Category: Experiences

Close to 20 years ago, Lucie was on vacation visiting her friends in Provence and what better to do while her friend was going to work than a little wine tasting?  Let’s point out here that the Southern Côtes du Rhône is not California with its large wineries and palaces but a lot more modest in style and size.

Photo courtesy Domain la Soumade

On a cold January weekday, she was driving  in the small village of Rasteau, looking for the home of one of our favorite wines, Domaine la Soumade.  Driving back and forth along a small road, she finally spotted the name on a little signpost, but the only building there was a private house with a little shed in one corner of the garden.  As she approached the shed, a big dog barked at her loudly enough to alert the owner of the house.  A woman bundling a wool sweater around her shoulders against the chill opened her door to look at the intruder, asking what she wanted.  When Lucie told her that she came as far as Québec to taste her wine, the woman said she’d be downstairs in a moment.  As it worked out, this was Madame Romero, the wife of the owner and winemaker of Domaine la Soumade .  She invited Lucie into the shed which was the tasting room.

While tasting Domaine la Soumade wines, Madame Romero was intrigued why Lucie had come so far to Rasteau and where she was staying.  When Lucie explained that she was staying with her friends in Nyons, Madame Romero gave her a bottle of wine with a smile, saying, enjoy it with your friends tonight at dinner.

Photo courtesy of Domaine la Soumade

A few years later, Steve and Lucie were wine tasting together in Rasteau, during the harvest. Lucie wanted to take Steve to Domaine la Soumade but could not find the place.  The house was still there, but not the shed.  And where were all the people who should be wine tasting at that time of year?  Driving on the road to Orange we saw a beautiful building with Domaine la Soumade written on it.   Since Lucie had been there, they had built a winery and tasting room that could now compete with some of California’s (humbler) tasting rooms.  Madame Romero was there, serving behind the bar and when Lucie introduced herself to Madame, she immediately said, “Vous êtes la Québécoise! I remember you, you visited us before we moved here.”  The conversation went around that first visit, and then we were introduced to her husband, the winemaker, André Romero.  We had the immense pleasure of tasting some of their best wines, some traditional and others reflecting the enterprising spirit of Domaine la Soumade.  The highlights included the flagship red wine,  Fleur de Confiance and a delicious Rasteau “Vin Doux Naturel“  a sweet wine that is great at aperitif, but can be found only in France.

This experience will forever be one of Lucie’s most cherished wine tasting memories.

 

 

A few nights before we began a trip to Tuscany, we opened a bottle of Italian wine that we had bought from a favorite wine web site.  At that point all we knew was that it was a Brunello,  had a beautiful label and that it was called Terralsole (“Land toward the Sun”).  Tasting it, we were very impressed and were glad we had more in the cellar.

Montalcino, in Tuscany, is famed for the wine first made in the castelli around the town: Brunello, made from 100% Sangiovese grapes.  The road system is radial around Montalcino; whichever direction you go you will find vineyards and wineries.  However, each direction also brings you to different terroirs, so the wines from each exhibit distinct characteristics and personalities.  As we drove down a road to the southeast of the city, we saw a sign that told us we had just passed the entrance to Terralsole.  One U-turn and five minutes later, we pulled up to the winery.  And no one was there.  Maybe, we thought, we were at the wrong building.  There was a nice looking structure at the top of a small hill, maybe that was it.

Terralsole  vineyard and winery.  Photo courtesy of Terralsole.

So Steve was delegated to climb up and see if anyone was at home, while Lucie stayed with the car.  After he shouted a few “Hello’s”, a young girl about six years old came out to see who was there.  Steve asked, “Is your mommy or daddy at home”, speaking slowly in hopes that she had a little English.  She shouted back into the house, “Mommy, there’s somebody here about some wine”.  Steve told her that she spoke perfect English and she replied, as only a six-year old can, “And I speak perfect Italian, too.”  Such was our introduction to the Bollag family, proprietors and winemakers of Terralsole (www.terralsole.com/).

Mom turned out to be Athena Tergis Bollag, a violinist, who had an appointment and was anxious to get away.  But graciously she told us that a) tastings were by appointment only b) there was no one able to serve us and c) maybe her husband, Mario, would accommodate us.  We were led back down the hill and met Mario Bollag, who proceeded to lead us on a tour of the property and the winery.

Mario then led us up to his office-atelier above the winery floor.  There he showed us sculptures and paintings, including the original used for the label of the wine we had drunk in New York.  It seems that Mario was also an artist and had in his earlier life been to Haiti, where he fell in love with the arts community there.  So he would sketch what he wanted for a label, send it to one of his Haitian friends who made a painting of it, which was then used for wine bottles.  Everyone benefited.

A Terralsole label.

We learned that Terralsole comes from vineyards in two sectors of the Brunello region, which gives Terralsole’s Brunellos the taste we had liked so much.  Mario opened something unusual, a Syrah that we tasted together.  It’s marketed as a Super Tuscan, but really has more of a French character.  We never did taste a Brunello there, although we bought some to take home with us.

They say that no good deed goes unpunished.  Be that as it may, it’s not always the case and here’s a story to prove it.  In the summer of 2000, Steve got into a cab in New York City and there sitting on the back seat was a wallet, full of cash and credit cards.  He could have given it to the driver to turn in to the city’s Lost and Found, if there is such a thing, but instead he leafed through the cards and found a driver’s license.  Using his cell and Directory Assistance, he called the owner’s home in Windsor, CA.  Of course no one was at home – Steve found the wallet in New York after all – but he left a message.  Minutes later he received a call from the fellow who had lost the wallet.  He was amazed that he would get his wallet back, in New York of all places.

When the handover occurred, the gentleman offered Steve some money, which he turned down.  Steve told him to pass the word along in California that the nasty myths about New Yorkers weren’t all true.  Steve was asked for his business card and, expecting a thank you note, he gave one and sent the lucky tourist on his way.

A few weeks passed and Steve found a box on his desk with three wine bottles in it, his reward for returning the wallet.  Two of the wineries have become favorites of ours; sadly the third never lived up to its promise.  The two were Limerick Lane and David Coffaro.  In keeping with our practice not to speak ill of a winery, the third one will go unnamed.  They are still there to be visited and we’ll reflect on what they were like then as well as how they have changed since.

 

As it happened, Lucie and Steve made their first visit together to Napa/Noma a few weeks after the bottles arrived and we made Limerick Lane, in Russian River, our first stop.  Then and now it’s a bit hard to find, although in the ensuing years more wineries have opened on the eponymous road.  Lucie had never tasted a proper Zinfandel, nor had she seen or tasted the grape itself. (It is small and very sweet.) So this winery was a revelation.  At the time, the tasting room was little more than a garage with a folding table and some bottles, but the wines were eye-openingly good.  Back then it was owned by  Michael Collins, who focused on the Zins and in time added a very good Pinot Noir.  We joined the wine club and were quite happy with the wines Limerick Lane sent us.

The Bilbro brothers in today’s Limerick Lane tasting room.  Photo courtesy of Limerick Lane Winery.

In 2011, the winery was sold to the brothers Jake and Alexis Bilbro.  They changed the label (we preferred the old one), dropped the Pinot Noir and somewhat amped up the wines.  We were unhappy at the time and dropped out of the club.  In retrospect, 2011 was a terrible year across California and the Bilbro brothers picked a lousy time to take over the property.  We are happy to report that Limerick Lane no longer has a wine club because their wines have improved to the point that they get huge numbers from the press and many of their wines are allocated.

David Coffaro in his vineyard, in his habitual “suit”.  Photo courtesy of David Coffaro Vineyard and Winery.

As much change as there has been at Limerick Lane, there has been very little at David Coffaro.  It is still sitting alongside Dry Creek Road, with Dave very much still in charge.  If you like big, fruit-forward wines made from familiar and unfamiliar grapes alike (and often blended together) then you’ll like what come from this winery. For sure, Dave’s wines aren’t for the faint of heart so if you like big, bold California wines, Dave’s your man.  See our previous review of David Coffaro Winery for more information.

Don’t you just like stories with happy endings?

 

If you love going wine tasting, as we quite obviously do, and if you enjoy telling friends about it, you will inevitably be asked whether you have seen the movie Sideways.  Well, yes we have and we liked it quite a bit.  But since the movie may be all your friends know about a wine tasting trip, you owe it to them to point out what is and is not realistic about it.

First, the film gives you the idea that people who visit Wine Country for tasting are jerks and geeks.  (We deny being either.)  In our experience, the jerks are most often people who want to drink rather than taste and have often been previously overserved.  Most wineries are pretty good at dealing with this sort, for their own protection and to preserve the positive experience of other visitors.  As for geeks, these are often normal people who are enthusiastic about one topic – wine tasting, in this instance – and are eager to share it.  As long as they aren’t intimidating wine snobs, they are usually nice to deal with.

Often, people will tell you that they really liked what they saw of Napa Valley in the movie.  However, the wineries and other locations shown in Sideways are from the Central Coast, in and around the town of Los Olivos.  This is a wonderful sector of Wine Country, with Pinot Noir and Chardonnay grown to the west and Syrah to the east.  There are some excellent wineries in the movie such as Fess Parker, Foxen and Firestone, well worth visiting.  But they are hardly representative of California wine tasting as a whole.  In particular, the town of Los Olivos is unique.  It’s a quiet little California village that just happens to have an exceptionally high concentration of tasting rooms along its Grand Avenue.  This is an opportunity for some interesting wine tasting, but this kind of atmosphere usually is found in urban settings, not a small town like Los Olivos.

What we find most evocative in the movie is the passion for wine experienced by its protagonists (well, some of them).  The scene in which Paul Giamatti and Virginia Madsen explain what wine means to them is eloquent and affecting.  Of course, you would be eloquent and affecting too if you had script writers.  All the same, there is a spirit of seeing beautiful scenery, trying fine and not so fine wines and eating Wine Country meals that comes through in Sideways.  That spirit is instantly recognizable to those of us who go wine tasting often.

There is much in the movie that evokes the real experience of wine tasting, despite the characters’ love lives and other shenanigans.  Probably the worst thing in the movie is what it did to Merlot production in California.  The fellow who keeps crying “No more Merlot” is a Pinot Noir lover, fair enough, but he doesn’t really know what merlot tastes like, as shown by the St. Emilion he drinks at McDonalds.  That’s right, it’s made primarily from Merlot grapes.

So when Sideways comes up in conversation – and even thirteen years on from its debut, it will – tell your friends that it’s a fun movie and that some of it actually reflects your own experiences in Wine Country.  Then suggest that they take a wine tasting trip and experience the real thing for themselves.

Cheers !

If there’s anything better than a good wine, it’s a good story.  And a good story about a good wine is even better.

Many years ago, Steve was vacationing in the south of France and of course he had to go wine tasting.  At the time – this was a long while ago – he hadn’t had much experience with Rhone wines.  Being in the Rhone valley, this trip was in fact his real introduction to the wines of the region.  He asked the hotel he was staying at for recommendations of wineries to visit and they handed him a list of their favorites.  Thus informed, Steve set out for wine tasting adventures.

Adventures indeed!  The hotel didn’t mention how small and convoluted the roads are in the southern Rhone valley and he got thoroughly lost.  But little by little, he did locate most of the wineries on the list.  Of course, in France they are all closed for lunch, so many of Steve’s finds did not lead to wine tasting.  Near day’s end, he rolled into the village of Vacqueyras (va-KAY-rass) and asked about one of the places on his list.  His French was good enough that the local folks knew what he was talking about (okay, maybe they read it off his list) and with some finger-pointing and sign-reading, he eventually arrived at Clos de Cazaux.

What he saw was a farm house, surrounded by a vineyard, with a few outbuildings scattered around the house.  A very small, frail, old woman came out of the house, looked Steve over, and figured out that he must be a wine tourist.  What ensued was a conversation in Steve’s barely adequate French; fortunately the old lady spoke very slowly so Steve could understand her.

Here’s what ensued:

 

Entrez dans ma cave, monsieur.

Come into my cave, sir.  This was one of the outbuildings.

 Nous avons quatre vins, deux Vacqueyras et deux Gigondas.

We have four wines, two from Vacqueyras and two from Gigondas (the next village over, also well known for its red wines.)

Les vins de Vacqueyras sont traditionnelle, fait de Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre et Cinsault.

The Vacqueyras wines are traditional, made of Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre et Cinsault.  Steve nods.

Un de Gigondas est traditionnel aussi, mais l’autre est fait juste pour les Anglais.  Syrah pur.

One of the Gigondas wines is traditional too, but the other is made just for the English.  It’s pure Syrah.

Steve realized that by “les Anglais” the woman meant him.  And so she poured him the first taste he ever had of a Rhone wine that’s one of his favorites even today, Cuvée des Templiers.  The Templiers, or Knights Templar in English, were an order of knighthood in the Middle Ages who (supposedly) kept themselves pure to fight the Crusades.  They were and are well represented on the label.

Photo courtesy of wine-searcher.com

Now roll forward some 25 years.  Steve and Lucie are vacationing in the southern Rhone valley.  Steve has learned quite a bit about Rhone wines in the intervening years, but Lucie is an expert, a Chevalier de la Commanderie de Costes de Rhone.  They are in Rasteau on a Sunday and all the wineries are closed.  The only place in town to buy wines is the Tourist Information Bureau.  So they go, buy a few bottles and chat with the young woman who is staffing the bureau.  By now, Steve has forgotten the name of the vineyard but remembers the story, which he relates in his now much improved French, courtesy of Lucie.  Can the information woman help them to find the winery again?

She says (in French, of course), “Of course I know the winery.  The old woman is my mother-in-law and she’s still alive.  But Cuvée des Templiers is not made just for the English.  We love it too.  And it’s not and never was pure Syrah.  I’ll be working there tomorrow, so come by and I’ll open a bottle for you.”

Small world, n’est-ce-pas?

Some time ago, we took a class at the Joseph Phelps winery in St. Helena on the subject of cooperage, the making of wine barrels.  We learned that the source and treatment of the oak makes a distinct difference in the taste of the wines matured in them.  Then, on a visit to Paso Robles we got a graduate course.

The location was the Écluse winery (www.eclusewines.com), on a hill on the west side of town.  Écluse is the French word for the locks that accommodate slopes in canals, opening and closing to allow boats to pass at different levels.  The owners are Steve and Pam Lock, hence the name of the winery.  We had heard about their Rhone varietals and asked for an appointment to come visit.  Like many wineries in Paso Robles, Écluse is only open for the public on weekends.  As we were in the area Monday through Thursday, a special appointment was de rigeur (more French).

We pulled into a gravel lot in front of a barn-like structure and were greeted by Steve Lock himself.  Inside the barn were racks of barrels full of maturing wine and a small bar area with some boards stretched between a few barrels and wine bottles resting on them.  This was wine tasting like it used to be, Napa in the ‘70s!  We explained to Steve that our interest was in the Rhone grapes and he was happy to oblige us.  Then he explained that Écluse is as well known for its Cabernet Sauvignons as its Rhones.  Would we like to try some?

Steve Lock serving in the barrel room.  Photo courtesy of Yelp

We guess we must have given Steve an idea that we were really interested in wine because he then involved us in a fascinating experiment.  He had juice from the same vintage of his Cabernet Sauvignons aging in new French, American and Hungarian barrels.  The French barrels have the finest grain, imparting a mellow, oaky flavor.  The Americans have the widest grain, giving the wines a distinct top note.  The Hungarians are in-between and project a creaminess to the wines.  Steve took a wine thief and poured some of each, one at a time, into three different glasses.  We sipped each and had never understood the impact of the cooperage on the taste of wine as much as we did that day.

A wine thief in use.  Photo courtesy the Weekly Grape.

Then we got to play assistant winemaker.  Steve gave us each another glass and encouraged us to blend some of the wine that we still had from the three barrels.  We have no memory of what we made that day, but we are quite certain that it wasn’t as good as what came out of the bottle we received a few years later, since we joined the Écluse wine club that day.