It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Westworld Where the Truth Lies that Frogs and Killer Klowns From Outer Space are The Usual Suspects in The Last of Sheila...

Oh, and Angel Heart.

This week, Kathy had her first overnight business trip of her new gig, and that’s when I fire up a Trader Joe’s frozen pizza and dip into my DVD stash of guilty pleasures that I can watch again and again. Can’t believe that, back to back, I again watched “The Last of Sheila” (written by Stephen Sondheim and Anthony Perkins, no less!) and the 1972 eco-themed grindhouse horror cheapie “Frogs” starring a slumming Academy Award-winner Ray Milland. Brilliant! As one used to say, back in my stand-up comedy days, “It’s great to be here in your fine city of [looks inside suit jacket] Harris Tweed.”

But with my act, it was great to be anywhere.

Hey, we’ve written previously about CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) and I kicked off this post with Cinema that Shoulda Atrophied, but wanted to hip y’all to the progress of our garden here at the Oakley ranch. Last November, we hired a designer to dream up a drought-resistant yard to replace our weed-infested water guzzler. She hooked us up with a great installation dude, and five months in, even with the miracle of drip irrigation vs. pop-up video/sprinklers, the joint is filling in wonderfully! Truth be told, I think our cool neighbor Syed has permanently adjusted his pop-up sprinklers to water our lawn while watering his own, knowing how much trouble we had with our veggies in front last year.

2010 was our first full growing season in the house, and we were so excited about the abundant sun and 100-degree days; the citrus and fig trees that we put in the ground autumn 2009 were surely going to thrive. Wrong. By July of 2010, the trees were scorched and the raised beds in the front yielded stunted or nonexistent fruit and vegetables. A disaster.

This year, our garden design places all the raised beds in the backyard (where we had some success with more tempered sun exposure), and I’ve topped up to almost-overflowing each bed with a grow mix delivered from a local nursery. Kath has been in full-metal raised-bed-garden mode since last weekend, arriving from Orchard Supply Hardware or Navlet's with a hatchback full of seedlings or seeds to put into the beds.

With all of the beds amalgamated in the backyard this year, Kath has been able to refine her bed design, begun last year utilizing the book “One Magic Square” by Lolo Houbein. It’s a cool read: The idea is to instruct one how to grow organic, seasonal themed plots in small spaces. So, a few weeks ago, I heard Kathy up at the computer, printer buzzing away, and saw that she had input her chosen designs, suggested by the book, for our seven beds, all newly reacquainted in the backyard.

She has a Berry plot: a couple of different varieties of blueberry and raspberry canes with strawberries in the center. Another bed is her Pasta/Pizza plot, with red onions, arugula, eggplant, bell peppers, chilies, chives, basil and bush tomatoes, with onions center-stage. A couple of different Salad plots: six lettuces, bush beans, green onions, radishes and cherry tomatoes in one; endive, mizuna, garlic and three lettuces in the other. Then it gets funk-ay: the Stir-fry plot features broccoli rabe, sugar snap peas on a trellis, carrots and red mustard, with marigolds in the center. And the Aztec plot highlights pumpkin, sweet corn and climbing beans.

As noted, this was Kathy’s raised bed garden bible last year, but our unfamiliarity with Oakley’s heat, sun and the garden’s water requirements have given us a do-over in 2011. Our new landscape design puts all of our beds in one location with proximity to each other, and they’re all topped up with fertile grow mix. We’re seeing lots of honeybees, and not many earwigs (which devoured so much, overnight, last year).

There, but for the grace of denim overalls, go I.

Well, we’re down to the last bottle from the CoCo wine stash that Kathy assembled early on in the days of this blog. We pulled its cork today to taste the 2008 vintage of Turley Zinfandel Duarte. The Duarte plot is on Laurel a few blocks from the house here, and is also known as Jesse’s Vineyard, a designation that appears on Rosenblum bottlings in salute to the father of vineyard manager Dwight Meadows. Years ago, Joe Duarte sold it to a housing developer, and Dwight manages the acreage for these new owners, at least until the housing market rebounds. The Turley 2008 Duarte Zinfandel is a real spectrum of translucent blues, blacks and plum purples in the glass. The nose reveals Port-like whiffs of dried currant and stone-fruit richness. The wine coats the tongue with nice viscosity, a slight alcohol burn, bright acid and dried blueberry notes on a deceptively lengthy finish.

Birth(day) of a Blog

It was just too good an opportunity for Kathy to pass up: Groupon was offering 2-for-1 deluxe wine tasting at Wente’s facilities in Livermore. Even though we had recently motored down to the Valley on our “Port run,” the idea of an elegant lunch in their dining room, and an afternoon of winery hopping sounded downright civilized.

We hadn’t made a reservation, and the restaurant was packed: The sun was shining, their seasonal patio was open and diners were in absolutely no hurry to turn over the table. We were told that without a reservation, we had no hope for lunch. Kath had the brilliant idea of seeing if one of the staff in the tasting room could call over for us, and before we knew it Donna the Tasting Room Diva was booking us a table for two five minutes hence. We sauntered over to the dining room, and though we had to wait virtually another 30 minutes past post time (made bearable with the aid of a bottle of Murrieta’s Well Livermore Tempranillo), we were eventually seated where we proceeded to enjoy a wonderful lunch.

During this memorable meal, Kathy and I reflected on the fact that exactly 52 weeks ago today (Sunday), we posted our very first entry to this CoCo Fermented blog. What began as a series of investigations by a pair of newcomers as to who owns, grows and makes wine from the many acres of century-old grapevines found in our far-east section of Contra Costa County (and our newly adopted city of Oakley in particular) has resulted in some fascinating stories and interviews over this past year.

We’ve talked to third- and fourth-generation grape growers whose eponymous vineyard names have graced labels on bottles we’ve been drinking for years. Fruit from Oakley growers such as Rich Pato, Stan and Gertie Planchon, John Continente and Tom Del Barba has been the key component of bottles in our wine stash a decade or more before we even knew where Oakley was, let alone moved to live here.

We’ve had illuminating interviews with such respected winemakers as Randall Grahm, Matt Cline, Kent Rosenblum, Tadeo Borchardt and Shauna Rosenblum, getting all kinds of insight as to their reasons for, and occasional frustrations with, using fruit from these ancient vines in our neck of CoCo County.

Kathy and I have had several successes in our roles as “grapevine gumshoes” as we’ve been able to identify owners/growers of certain vineyards, and some wines made using fruit from them. But sometimes the trail runs a bit cold, and there are still dozens of plots around town sporting beautiful, gnarly, fruit-bearing vines. The vineyards are being tended and their fruit is harvested every fall, but we don’t know by whom or for whom.

So on this first anniversary of our little project, Kath and I would like to cast our net a little wider, to include ruminations on just what a rich agricultural and viticultural bounty we now officially happen to be a part of. We’ve dipped our toes into these subjects in previous posts over the last 12 months, but just as winemakers strive to create vibrant, bright product from our region’s 100-year-old vines, we too will attempt to keep things fresh and juicy.

Speaking of which, on our way to Wente yesterday, we pulled off the road to stop in at Rodrigue Molyneaux, a small Livermore estate producer. Established in 1998, RM has a penchant for Italian varietals and blends, but we were especially delighted yesterday to purchase a house olive oil made from Leccino olives grown on their property. Colorwise, it’s a bright translucent green, reminiscent of Yellow Chartreuse. It’s got a nose of black pepper and green grassy notes. On the palate, flavors of cracked peppercorns ride the roof of the mouth on a long finish with nice bite.

Disco Bay Redux

So Kathy gets a telephone call a couple of weeks back from the Discovery Bay Golf & Country Club, reminding us of their upcoming semi-annual wine tasting event.

We blogged about it last November, and the April event the other day was no less interesting: 17 tables of distributors, winery reps and even a winemaker or two pouring hundreds of selections from their assorted portfolios of brands and labels at all price tiers. And with $20 event admission for DBGCC members, it’s an absolute bargain at $25 for nonmembers like Kath and me.

The tasting is held at the clubhouse, set smack dab in the center of the golf course, which is in turn ringed by expensive homes in this gated community. We drove up to the gatehouse, told the sentry that we were here for the wine event, and were granted access to the road leading to the clubhouse, noting the dozen or so speed bumps and numerous “Golf Cart Crossing” signs along the route.

It was a beautiful day and we were some of the first in line, so after paying and obtaining wristband, tasting glass and program listing the wines being poured at each of the 17 “Stations of the Cross,” we made a beeline outside to secure a table on the patio, whence we could plan our tasting strategy.

We began with a round of white wines and a couple of bubblies, including Mumm and Perrier Jouet, before filling up our plates with a nice array of finger foods. In no time, the clubhouse was packed, and patio chairs were starting to migrate from one table to another as large groups made their way outside. Both inside and out, the crowd seemed to be predominantly country club members: lots of air-kissed greetings, über-tanned retirees, questionable facelifts, age-inappropriate clothing and married couples instantly splitting up to form separate tables for men and women, at which to chew the fat.

Country club living is pretty trippy, man: Kath and I have attended this event three times now, and this last time, for the first time, we actually saw a table of older gents, obviously members, at the table beside us flag down a busboy to order a round of beers! Here they are, surrounded by an ocean of wine for which they paid to taste, and dudes sign for Corona on their food & beverage tab.

Between the people-watching and the broad spectrum of wines being poured, the Discovery Bay Golf & Country Club Wine Tasting is always a fun event for us; we really do look forward to it every spring and fall. And this time, the folks at Diageo were actually pouring a Rosenblum Zin made from grapes from our ‘hood. The “Carla’s Reserve” is from that vineyard over by the Kmart in nearby Antioch. You may remember from a previous post of ours that the plot is managed by Oakley businessman and grower Dwight Meadows, who also manages Jesse’s Vineyard, located a stone’s throw from our house. “Carla’s” is named for Dwight’s wife.

We just so happened to discover a bottle of the 2006 Rosenblum “Carla’s Reserve” Zinfandel hiding in our own cellar, separate from our “locally grown” stash of wines (which is down to one bottle). Must have been misfiled due to clerical error — our gain. The ’06 Carla’s is indeed showing a nice bit of age approaching its half-decade. The vibrancy of a whippersnapper has matured in color to a deep black, dull garnet hue. On the nose, I detected earth and cinnamon notes on frame of plum and cranberry. The Ocean Spray cran/blueberry vibe continues in the mouth with a touch of soil acidity on a long, long finish. An adult effort from olde tyme vines.

Opening Day!

Though I’m not talking about baseball season, which started this past week. Nope, this weekend marked the first day of the season for the Brentwood Farmers’ Market, held every Saturday morning downtown. They close off a street for four hours, and dozens of vendors ply their wares, from organic fruits and vegetables to olive oils, jams and handmade soaps. There’s even a fishmonger a few stalls down from the ubiquitous Kettle Corn tent.

This past last week of March saw us in our neck of the CoCo woods enjoying temperatures in the low 80s; wouldn’t you know that Market opening day started off cloudy, cooler and threatening rain that, fortunately, never materialized.

Under initially hazy skies, the sun managed to peek out, not that its absence would have deterred anyone. In Brentwood, one gets the sense that the market is a big deal: The street was packed, kids’ faces were smeared with the remnants of freshly gobbled strawberries, and shopping bags were seen overflowing with leafy greens, earthy mushrooms and brightly colored citrus fruit as big as a puppy’s head.

As the market’s selection of produce changes with the seasons, Kath and I are excited to meld this weekend Farmers’ Market experience with another spring and summer of U-Pick excursions, in appreciation of all that our Oakley-Brentwood-Knightsen-and-Beyond ‘hood has to, literally, bring to the table.

Less about home plate than our dinner plate, this was the Opening Day boding especially well for the two of us. Batter up!

OK, so to “be-league-er” the baseball metaphor into the ground, on our home run back to the house after the market, we passed one of our local old vine vineyards and were surprised and excited to see these nonagenarians in glorious bud break. Those bright green shoots emerging from those gnarly limbs are a true rite of spring. It prompted Kath and me to dip into the cellar for an old vine CoCo wine. Fittingly, the Trinitas 2005 Old Vine Zinfandel from Contra Costa County just happens to be one of the two remaining wines in our “local” stash.

To the eye, it winks of a dusty plum color. The nose is very restrained, but does eventually reveal modest notes of glycerin and strawberries. The mouthfeel is earthy, with a certain tartness chillin’ with the modest fruit forwardness.