The Art of Fire

“I tell my doctor, I only drink at work,” Chris Hansen jokes. We’re at the bar in Mustards Grill awaiting a table for lunch – the popular Napa Valley restaurant is, not surprisingly, jammed with people. In front of Chris are three open bottles of red wine, obviously attracting attention. Chris works for Nadalie Cooperage, and the three bottles are barrel samples of cabernet sauvignon brought along for tasting. Working over lunch is not unusual for Chris – and yes, I can hear scoffing, we are working. “My wife calls sometimes asking if I got to go to lunch today,” Chris says innocently, “and I say, ‘yeah, but we only had time for a quick bite – just an hour and a half at Bistro Don Giovanni’.”

I laugh along with Greg Lawson, a winemaker in the valley who’s with us at the bar. Chris grins, “My boss, who is something of a gourmet – we’ll go out to lunch, usually with a couple bottles of wine, when before you realize it,” he glances at his watch like his boss imitatively, “Could it be two-thirty already?”

Not only are we there to taste barrel samples, Greg’s brother Rob Lawson, a stellar winemaker of cult standing at the Napa Wine Company, has a pinot grigio on the menu being offered by the glass, so each of us start off with that. Try to remember we’re working. Greg tells us about it, “My brother made 6000 cases of this, just released it 3 weeks ago.” Chris and I nod, sticking our noses in our glasses. Greg then adds dramatically, “They’re already sold out.” Off our raised brows, he nods. So we taste, and it’s no wonder – the wine is delicious.

Greg has his own label “Valley Legend” a vineyard designated cabernet sauvignon that’s having its debut release in August. And like his brother Rob, Greg is meticulous about his winemaking – not only does he sort each cluster as it is brought in from the vineyard, but also each individual berry (meaning he’s removing individual berries that don’t make the grade) – yeah, fanatical. Greg says that he and his brother tasted through the wines before he came to Mustards and they were both very pleased. I can’t wait to try them myself.

The three Nadalie barrel samples Chris has with him are all of the same cuvee’ of cabernet sauvignon, the only difference being the barrel sources: the first being a barrel called Colbert, a blend of wood from different French oak forests chosen with one thing in common – extra tight grain. Chris explains that this mostly influences the wine’s body and mouth feel. The second sample comes from another French oak barrel called Troncais sourced from a single forest in the Troncais region – also tightly grained for slow extraction, giving the wine a light touch of oak, in a word finesse. The third barrel sample is of American oak, sourced from a forest in Missouri and of the three samples has the biggest, boldest flavors – very showy, but not so different than the French barrels. All three are unique, and each fantastic in its own right, but the exciting part is imagining how they could be used in unison to develop flavors. I’m impressed, like I was earlier in the week, when Chris gave me a tour of Nadalie’s barrel making facility.

The smell of sawdust was in the air. “Growing oak and making barrels is a lot like growing grapes and making wine,” Chris says, rubbing at the oak dust getting into his eyes. “There is a terroir for oak barrels, just like there is for wine.” I nod in agreement. Chris goes on, “Certain forests and certain types of trees, where they are harvested, which way the ground slopes, the elevation, the climate, and finally how the wood is seasoned and coopered, all influence the final quality. A lot of experience is necessary to build quality barrels.”

Located just north of Calistoga, next to Chateau Montelena, Nadalie Cooperage was the first cooperage to start building barrels in the Napa Valley, and is one of several branches of the family run business based in France, with another cooperage in Chile, and satellite offices in South America, Australia, Japan, and even China. The cooperage in Calistoga can build up to 80 barrels a day, which doesn’t sound like much, until you consider that each barrel is made almost entirely by hand. “What’s surprising,” Chris explains, “is that barrel making has remained basically the same for more than 2000 years with only minor changes. Barrels used to be made entirely with hand tools, but now, wood is often split with hydraulic power, and machines are used to plane and groove the pieces, yet the barrels are still fitted together by hand, and toasted and bent using fire.” Sounds positively primitive.

An oak barrel is basically made up of strips or planks of wood called staves – narrow at the ends (the chime) and fatter at the middle (the bilge), so that when bent and bound by hoops of steel, the barrel bulges in the middle in that familiar way. The staves get squeezed together by these hoops so tightly that they won’t leak. The ends of the barrel called heads are also made of staves, squeezed together though not initially bound by steel hoops, but instead held with headless nails called gudgeons. A number of gudgeons are placed between the staves, along with a strip of a grass-like reed, and then squeezed together to form a flat table-like plank. The gudgeons hold the staves tight, but the reeds keep the wine from leaking through staves. The heads are then cut into rounds and tapered at their edges before being set into grooves (called croze) cut into each end of the barrel. Then the hoops of steel are hammered down tightly, holding the heads firmly in place.

I came away from the tour amazed and impressed. Watching the toasting and bending of staves over open fire, the skill needed to feel the heat through the wood with bare hands and to know precisely how long the wood still needed to go. The brute strength needed to hammer down the hoops and muscle barrels to and fro. The hard won knowledge of proper technique. The marriage of innovation and tradition. Essentially, Nadalie builds barrels the same way barrel makers have been making them for thousands of years, but at the same time they are making them better for winemakers than ever before.

(When I told Chris I had forgotten to get a picture of him at the cooperage, he said to do like a friend of his once did, and use a picture of a dog. So, here’s my picture of Chris Hansen.)

Trahan: Wine Trapeze Artist

“Before this, I was an engineer in the bio-medical industry,” Chuck Custodio says above us, already ten feet off the winery floor. He’s scaling his way up a stack of wine barrels to secure some barrel samples. “I built the high-tech equipment drug manufacturers use to create designer drugs.” On the ground, a small group of patrons (and me of course) watch with trepidation, wondering just where he’s headed. Apparently the barrel he’s after is near the top, plenty precarious without also toting along a fistful of wine glasses and a wine thief. Chuck then quips, “That equipment I handled -- eventually gave rise to the drug Viagra!,” which of course gets a belly laugh.

Moments later, stepping down from the stacks without spilling a drop, Chuck dispenses the samples. A woman in our group takes her glass and asks, “How many bottles of wine can you get out of a barrel?” “Absolutely none,” Chuck quickly retorts. Off her bewildered look, he tells her straight, “Bottles are way too big to fit through such a tiny bung hole.” More laughs all around. Then he answers the question thoroughly and honestly, “Each barrel is slightly different in size, but on average, around twenty-four cases of wine can be bottled from a single barrel. Twelve bottles to a case makes it -- two hundred eighty-eight bottles give or take.”

He holds up his glass. “This Petit Verdot for example, will run a little over two hundred fifty cases--” “Which means you have …” The woman does the math, “ten barrels!” “That’s right,” Chuck nods, flashing a warm smile. The woman grins back thoroughly charmed.

Just what is it about Chuck Custodio -- winemaker, owner and apparently trapeze artist of Trahan Winery? Is it the Versace eyewear? Or maybe the killer long ball he often muscles on the golf links? Or is it the rocking wines he makes? I meet many people in the wine trade, some colorful, many talented, but for some reason Chuck stands out. Maybe it’s the quick wit and easy confidence. The charisma. The charm. Whatever the appeal, there are those few who just seem to put more of an electric charge into the air. His beautiful wife Janna, when asked how she and Chuck first met, will say without hesitation, “At a strip club.” For a second I ask myself, ‘Is that true?’ Janna’s coy grin belies the truth. (She’s actually a surgical nurse.) Then there’s Sadie, Chuck’s German shorthaired pointer and barrel bung fetcher extraordinaire, who can often be seen around the winery greeting guests and cajoling them into throwing her slimy silicone barrel bung she loves to chase.

Maybe it’s that everybody who likes wine has that secret fantasy of dumping their current job and running off to Napa Valley to make wine; it’s just that Chuck Custodio went ahead and did it. “My Dad thought I was cracked,” he remembers. “Throwing away a good paying job, to work for peanuts for four straight years? Commuting four hours a day from San Francisco? He was from the school of hard knocks, conservative, tough -- became a Staff Sergeant in the Army before taking a job as a Santa Clara Firefighter. He retired as Deputy Fire Chief. My mom on the other hand was a creature of the sixties, artistic and liberal to the core. When I told her what I was planning to do, she was so proud of me she cried.”

A young woman, no doubt influenced by the current climate of political antagonism, pipes up incredulously, “If your parents were so different politically, how could they get married in the first place?” It’s the type of candor that can kill a festive mood. Chuck pauses only a second, “Great sex, obviously!” meeting cheek with cheek. Then he throws up his arms with a mad twinkle in his eyes. “I’m proof of that!” Touché.

Besides, I see both of his parents alive in Chuck. In his father, the natural leadership -- currently Chuck is Vice President of the Silverado Trail Winery Association, and often you can find him acting as ringleader behind many golf games with winemakers and others in the trade, or getting a group together for networking over burgers and beers at some club or restaurant. His mother’s artistic side can be seen in his choice of profession. Though Chuck was never one for throwing pots or painting watercolors, making wine is an art and one he’s very good at.

The best part though is watching his easy way with people. Tasting wines with him demystifies the whole experience. A joke here, a practical insight explained over there. I think it’s because Chuck makes you feel like an insider. You’re part of the in-group. You feel hip, just like him. And you get the comfortable feeling there’s no pressure to buy. He’s pouring wines for you because he’s proud of them, for good reason. His wines are all like his personality: big and bold –- there is nothing shy or restrained about them. His Merlot for instance is one of the best I’ve ever tried. Most people who try his Merlot for the first time think it’s one of the best Cabernet Sauvignons they’ve ever had. Then Chuck tells them with a crafty grin that it’s 100 percent Merlot. Mouths drop open. His Petit Verdot is also 100 percent, which is rare. His Petit Verdot can wrestle satisfactorily with your taste buds without any help. His Chardonnay and Pinot Noir are both daring as well. These wines are never muddy, overly extracted or clumsy. They are honest, straightforward wines, nothing manipulated or phony. Chuck’s winemaking philosophy is let the wines be what they are, don’t get in their way (or I might add, don’t hold anything back). When someone in our group jokes, “Just like Viagra, you enjoy bringing pleasure to people.” Chuck says with candor, “Hey, I’m in it strictly for the booze.”

The Pursuit of Fun

Ah, Napa Valley – coconut palms and ocean breezes, grass skirts and tiki torches, nightly luaus of poke and poi, ukulele music and dancing girls – wait, hold it! The Napa Valley? Yes, if you’re hanging around Judd Finkelstein, who with father Art, mother Bunnie, and wife Holly, runs Judd’s Hill winery on the Silverado Trail. That’s precisely what Napa Valley looks like. Paradise.

Judd plays in a ukulele band called The Maikai Gents, and recently I had the pleasure of seeing him and his band mates perform during Halloween at Copia at an event called “The Spooky Lau,” and in another event at the grand opening of a new restaurant in Napa called “The Lobster Shack Luau.” They had costumes that reminded me of the fifties, with Hawaiian pastel shirts and short brim hats, and they sang classic Hawaiian songs like “Tiny Bubbles” and “The Hukilau.” I should also mention that it’s not just The Maikai Gents – it’s The Maikai Gents with The Mysterious Miss Mauna Loa (which I’m pretty sure is really Holly, Judd’s wife, but don’t tell anybody). She can often be seen dancing the hula along side while they play. On the band’s playbill, a Disney animator has created cartoon caricatures of Judd and Holly performing, which are spot on – you’ll immediately recognize them if you happen to visit the winery.

But let’s be honest, when people decide they’re going to start a band, it’s usually to get chicks or to seek fame – and more often than not it’s rap music or punk. To choose the ukulele, well, obviously that has an entirely different aim. It’s the pursuit of pure pleasure, and from the way The Maikai Gents play, with both enthusiasm and skill (and I especially appreciate Judd’s fine singing voice), you too can join in on the fun.

This pursuit of fun can also be seen at Judd’s Hill winery, with their most recent event, The Hanukkah Hootenanny and full latke bar with more Hawaiian music performed by Judd’s band. But just as important for the Finklesteins is family, which you notice right away from the office layout (through the glass windows in the entrance hall are Art’s desk and Bunnie’s, with Judd’s and Holly’s right next to them, everyone working happily along side one other). When Judd’s Hill moved from St. Helena to the property off the Silverado Trail, Art designed the new winery, and on my recent visit, he was outside busy putting on some finishing touches, laying ornamental rock and planting trees.

Art is no stranger to the wine industry. He and Judd’s uncle started Whitehall Lane Winery over thirty years ago, and the business became very successful. Judd remembers growing up in St. Helena, playing in the vineyards or down by the creek, living an idyllic childhood. But not all was fun and games with his uncle always on the road selling wine, and with Art working way too hard to keep the business growing. Neither had the time to make the wine anymore, which was why they had started the winery to begin with – so, in the end they decided to sell. Art started Judd’s Hill on a much smaller scale, where he could make the wines like he had always wanted. He chose to use his son’s name on the new winery label in hopes that someday Judd would join him in the family business. Judd went away to college in the Southwest, yet always returned every harvest to help Art make the wines, and in Southern California he met Holly, eventually getting married before coming back home to Napa Valley – and to the family winery.

Judd’s Hill winery makes only 3000 cases a year, which allows Art’s and Judd’s winemaking to be hands-on in every way. On my recent visit I tasted through their whole lineup of wines with Judd, and one detail jumped out right away no matter what the varietal – all the wines were very fragrant. They all had just terrific noses, which might be on account of their judicious use of new oak. When I pointed this out to Judd, he showed me his profile and quickly quipped, “Well, that’s because terrific noses run in the family.” Then he asked if I had ever tasted their estate Cabernet Sauvignon. I hadn’t, so Judd revealed his secret stash of Estate wines hidden in a large Hawaiian tiki. Perfect.

Reindeer’s Leap

I’ve been spending a lot of time at Chimney Rock Winery lately, partly because I’ve been signing books in their tasting room (and we’ve been selling a lot of books, which is fantastic), but mostly, it’s because the people are so nice, like Tom Trzesniewski (pronounced “tres-new-ski”, with an emphasis on the “tres”). Tom is the retail manager at Chimney Rock. He owned his own business for 11 years, ran businesses for other people, and retired in 2003, so he could do what he loves the most. The other day, Tom gave me, and some friends of mine from Chicago, a vineyard tour of the estate and barrel tasting. We were standing in the vineyard, and Tom was pointing out to us an outcropping of crags on the eastern face of the Vaca Range, called Chimney Rock, which the winery was named after. Tom tells us that a chief of the Wappo tribe that settled the area thousands of years ago had chased a white stag up into the palisades, and to escape, the stag leaped from one palisade to another. Considering the distance between those palisades today, either the chief was an awfully good storyteller, or it wasn’t a stag at all, but a reindeer. But Reindeer’s Leap doesn’t roll off the tongue quite like Stag’s Leap does.

Tom moved on to explain how these palisades on the eastern face of the Vaca Range tend to heat up during the day, causing thermal winds to swirl around the Stag’s Leap district in a unique way. In the summer months, the swirling air keeps the region cooler, lengthening the time the grapes will hang on the vines. This translates into softer tannins in the finished wine, while giving them an enviable ability to age.

Maybe the reason why Tom knows so much is that he’s not just the retail manager, he’s also a wine educator. It’s says so on his business card. Actually, all the wine tasting staff are wine educators, come to think of it, like Mike Morf (with an emphasis on “morf”). He was telling me this story the other day about his late father-in-law, which has nothing to do with wine, but it’s a really funny story. His late father-in-law immigrated to California at the early part of the last century with his identical twin brother, from the north coast of France, which, incidentally, is a region known for pirates. Mike jokes with a twinkle in his eye that the instinct for piracy was probably embedded in their genes. They somehow became owners of a gas station in the early 1940s and quickly made enemies of all their competitors by underpricing their gas and cornering all the retail trade by buying bulk parts and supplies by the box-car load. The funny part comes when the brothers discover that if they buy three box-car loads of parts, or more, they can get them even cheaper. So they hire a guy to go around to their competitors and his job is to bad mouth the brothers, complaining bitterly how they won’t do business with him, and he has all these cheap parts and supplies, and if they buy them from him, they can screw the brothers. No one ever caught on that they were actually buying from them. Classic.

And then there’s Tom Ebert (who needs no emphasis), who I’ve noticed is building his dinner menu while he’s pouring wines for guests. Some of them sound so delicious, when I hear him describe them, my mouth waters -- like his dry shiitake mushroom encrusted halibut. It sounded so good that I went home that night and tried it myself. What you do is you take some dried shiitake mushrooms, and you pulverize them in a food processor with some garlic powder, salt and pepper, and some rice flour to crisp up the coating. You coat your fish with the mixture, and sauté in some butter for 1-1.5 minutes on each side on medium high heat. And what a fantastic fish recipe it turned out to be, and I might add, a perfect pairing with Chimney Rock’s award-winning wines, red or white.

All the people I’ve met at Chimney Rock – Tom, Mike, Tom, Joan, Ashley, Curtis, and Doug Fletcher, the winemaker – have been a delight. Mrs. Wilson seems to agree with me. She is 94 years old, and started Chimney Rock with her husband in the mid 1980s. She lives in the house on the hill above the vineyards, and still comes to the winery to pick up her wine, shake hands, and visit. Who wouldn’t?

How Do They Sell So Much Wine?

Can you take a few more?” Rick Healy sticks his head inside the door, interrupting. We’re in Dennis Zablosky’s office at Frank Family Vineyards (that's Dennis in his office in the photo), where Dennis is giving me, along with David Harmon III, owner of Carneros della Notte, and about ten VIPs a private wine tasting. And with that many clinking wine glasses crowding his desk, the place is wall-to-wall jammed. Dennis sputters, “Absolutely not!” “OK,” Rick quips, “I’ll send them right in.”

Vaudeville. Everybody laughs, of course, why not. They’re having the time of their lives, sipping Frank Family Vineyards’ award-winning Chardonnay, described by Dennis as “liquid crème brulee”. It’s not just the office that’s jammed. It’s the whole tasting room. Dennis, who runs Frank Family Vineyards’ direct sales, has been a larger than life presence in the local wine scene for nearly four decades. Robert Mondavi, the most eminent wine celebrity in the valley, called him “a living legend,” and rightly so. Not many wineries get this kind of foot traffic, day in and day out, with much of it serious wine buyers: CEOs and business tycoons, sports celebrities and movie moguls, film stars and famous authors, well, almost famous – the movers and shakers of the world – who fly on private jets to visit wine country, and to sit down with Dennis. “It’s a day-long party,” Patrick Cline says to me, “from the moment we open until closing time.” I marvel at their stamina. Patrick is one of Dennis’ raconteurs, entertaining and pouring wine along with Rick Healy, and Jeff Senelick, and Jerry Smith, and Tim Murphy – all men, mature and self assured, who create a club-like atmosphere that’s as inviting to women as it is to men. Somehow they manage to juggle a host of new visitors everyday, who arrive by the minute, spreading them out amongst three pouring bars in that old ramshackle building, more like a small-town Mayberry government DMV than a grand wine palace. (Rumor has it a new winetasting room is in the works at Frank Family Vineyards.)

Rick is back moments later with the two new VIPs, a business executive who had visited Dennis on a previous trip, and is back for more star treatment with his gorgeous girlfriend. As Dennis tries to explain once more about the lack of room, he catches sight of her at the door. “Well, hello sweetheart.” To the executive he says, “If I’d known you brought such a beautiful woman with you… Make more room!” He motions at the rest of us to clear some space as more laughter erupts. “What do you do, honey?” “I’m a masseuse,” the girlfriend says carefully, aware that all eyes are watching her. “Oh,” Dennis moans with true feeling, “you can save my life. Come closer honey. Give her room.” He rolls his shoulder painfully. “I have this old rotator cuff injury that stiffens up on me.” Obviously, this is the price of admission. As room is made, the girlfriend happily obliges.

There’s something special about a visit to Frank Family Vineyards. When you’re near the pulse beat of a place, the very heart of what’s happening, where the who’s who gather, you can feel it – that same draw that pulled Marilyn Monroe and joltin’ Joe DiMaggio north from Hollywood years ago when Frank Family Vineyards was called Hans Kornell, and when Marilyn fell in love with pink champagne that later she was rumored to have bathed in, and is still being made in the old Champangnois method by Frank Family Vineyards’ winemaker, Todd Graff.

Many wineries in the valley draw huge crowds, and have great stories to tell, and have fantastic wines, but Frank Family Vineyards not only gets visitors packing bottles out the door, but whole cases. Cases and cases and cases.

I’ve wondered how exactly they do it. Somewhere near 85% of the wine is sold directly at the winery. What makes this wine tasting room so successful? It’s actually quite simple. They make you feel like a star. And being a star means getting star treatment. From the moment you step foot inside, you’re in the spotlight, greeted with a smile at the door, offered a glass of champagne, and asked, “Where are you from?” and “What brought you to wine country?” You’re special. And to prove it, they’re putting on a party, just for you. It doesn’t cost you anything. Just showing up makes you a member of the club. And club members get privileges. Maybe even a private pouring at Dennis’ office. And that special feeling can keep going just by taking some wine home with you when you leave. Cases and cases and cases.

Smokin’ Wines

Recently, I attended the J.Moss Wines release party, where James and Janet Moss (the “J” getting double billing for James and Janet) poured their newly bottled 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon, and I had the added delight along with the many fans of J.Moss Wines on hand, to taste all their Cabs going clear back to their first release in 2001.

Tasting the 2001, their debut wine, was a rarity, precisely because of how rare the 2001 Lauer Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon actually is. Tragically, nearly all of the 2001 bottles were burned up in a warehouse fire in Vallejo in October 2005.

“This was our first vintage, our first commercial release,” Janet said to me, a touch of emotion still in her voice. “We had just hand labeled the bottles the week before, and then, when we heard about the fire, we thought it had to be a joke.” Not only were the J.Moss Wines debut Cabs lost, but also over $200 million worth of wine from other wineries and private collectors. In March 2007, a Sausalito businessman was arrested for the arson, charged with 19 felony counts. Some of the larger wineries could afford insurance and absorb the loss, financially anyway, but many of the smaller wine businesses were completed ravaged.

Janet went on. “How could somebody do such a thing? So many people lost everything.” Hearing her recount the story, it was clear that the anger hadn’t gone away with time. But unlike Janet, who needed to talk about the arson fire to cope with the loss, James reacted to the tragedy exactly the opposite. He wanted to put the terrible episode behind him. “I wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened. I was so sick of hearing about it. I just wanted to move on.”

After the fire, James and Janet immediately raced down to the warehouse and of course no one was being allowed in. But determined to see if any of their wines could be salvaged, they eventually pushed and cajoled their way past the gatekeepers, and saw the devastation firsthand. “Everything was burned up,” James said, “with all these stacks of wine toppled down into huge piles. Broken glass was everywhere.” He shook his head at the memory. “We had to dig down through these stacks of toppled burned up bottles, which was very dangerous, just to find our wines. We managed to save a few cases on the bottom of the collapsed piles, that had escaped the heat of the fire.” Only then did James’ eyes light up. “But, tasting the 2001, dude, that wine blew me away. I mean, it was smokin’.” I smiled back at him, not sure if he had caught the double meaning in what he had just said.

But I knew exactly what he meant after tasting the wine for myself, and not only that, but tasting all the wines straight through to the 2004s. These are vineyard designated wines, meaning that the grapes from one vineyard are not blended together with other vineyards or varietals, but are kept separate to highlight their uniqueness. The Spicer Vineyard in Stag’s Leap (photo above of the Spicers with Janet and James), the Puerta Dorada and Galleron Vineyards in Rutherford, or the Lauer Vineyard in St. Helena that makes up the 2001. Only you can still recognize James’ hand at the helm, because all his wines have qualities in common, the foremost of which is clarity. They are the perfect example of terroir, that hard-to-wrap-your-mind around French idea of totality, that includes vineyard site, soil, climate, weather, and winemaker that make up a given wine’s individuality.

If you hang around the Napa Valley, you’ll soon discover that the topic of wine is the constant background conversation. But every once in awhile, a wine comes to the foreground. The very first time I tasted a J.Moss wine, it commanded my full attention - one of those moments when the world seems to withdraw, and you’re left alone with the wine thinking, “wow”.

One evening, I asked James how he does what he does, and he gave me an example. “A while back, I decided to taste grapes from all over the Valley, from all these different appellations, just asking friends and farmers and winemakers I knew if I could walk their vines and sample some grapes just before they were harvested. And what I discovered is that you can really tell the difference. Dude, just from tasting the grapes.” He went into the vineyards, and saw how different places had distinct flavors and elements. I feel thrilled when I hear stories like that, when winemakers build sense memories and build their palates, so that they can make wines that stop the world.

The Ninth Hawaiian Island

There was something faintly Hawaiian in the air during harvest this year in the Napa Valley. And it wasn’t just my imagination. I was with Terry Kakazu, and her seven-year-old son, Nick, and we were at the Mansfield Winery on Conn Valley Road, a few miles east of the town of St. Helena. Terry is owner of Paul and Terry’s Place and HASR Wine Company out of Honolulu. HASR is short for Highly Allocated Spoiled Rotten. Terry is the proverbial “juice queen” visiting wine country once again on her continuing pilgrimage to procure the best of the very best wines Napa Valley has to offer for her eager wine shop patrons. Being curious to see firsthand how she goes about making everybody a member of her extended family, I decided to tag along, and apparently, so did Hawaii.

We were visiting with Leslie Mansfield, who had been kind enough to give us an amazing walking tour of the old winery built in the late 1880s that she currently owns with her husband, Richard. This is the last of the great ghost wineries that had been built before Prohibition and, unfortunately over the years, had been allowed to fall into disrepair. Leslie had been filling us in on their ambitious plans to restore the old stone winery and surrounding grounds, bringing everything back to its proper glory. And what a magnificent project it will be. I plan to go into more depth in a later blog.

But what struck me just then wasn’t anything about the old winery or the fantastic wines Leslie had been pouring for us, or the even more fantastic ghost stories that Leslie and Richard had personally experienced. It was what I had noticed occurring and reoccurring all over Napa Valley often enough that I could no longer shrug it off as mere coincidence. It was happening inside the Mansfield’s house. One of their guests visiting from Alaska was playing…a ukulele. Yep, and singing Hawaiian ballads…in native Hawaiian! Ah, Hawaii. There it was again. It seemed that wherever Terry Kakazu and her son traveled in wine country, Hawaii wasn’t far behind. Or maybe it was already there in front of us.

Terry catches my eye and laughs at the familiar tune coming from the house. The “aloha spirit” springing up again is not lost on her either. Then it dawns on me. Maybe this isn’t purely a coincidence. Maybe this connection Napa Valley has with Hawaii has deeper roots, to use a vineyard metaphor. Maybe, dare I say it, Napa Valley is the ninth Hawaiian island. I know this sounds like crazy talk, but I’ve just thought of this. Bear with me. There’re a lot of similarities. I mean, Hawaii is volcanic. And Napa Valley is volcanic. And look at all the hot springs in Calistoga.

And I could give you other examples. Like when Terry, Nick, and I stopped in at Schramsberg Vineyards for a tour of the two miles of wine caves under the mountain, and tasted some terrific bubbly with CFO Fred Zammataro (in the photo above with Terry), and he greeted us warmly wearing…get this, a flower print Hawaiian shirt. Yeah, I know, everyone has one of those in his closet. But, he was wearing it that day, and it wasn’t planned in advance. And what about Carneros della Notte’s harvest party a couple of weeks ago, when the women on hand were asked to see if they would like to stomp grapes, a la “I Love Lucy”, and nearly all who did, amidst much laughing and carrying on, turned out to be…Hawaiians. Terry Kakazu was one of them, and none of these “wahine” had met before. What are the chances of that? If you don’t believe me, the whole thing was caught on film by the NBC TV show, “In Wine Country”. So, I’ve got them to back me up. I wouldn’t be surprised if the 2007 vintage of Carneros della Notte pinot noir turns out to have a faint tropical flavor. And have you tried Hawaiian sushi with pinot noir? Wow. Such a perfect match can’t be coincidental. Still not convinced? How about the non-scientific survey I conducted of Napa Valley winemakers, and it turns out their favorite food is…poké. Yep, if I had been asked to guess beforehand, I would have said Kobe beef sliders, but poké? Then there’s Terry and her son Nick, greeting winemakers all across the Valley, with wide grins and warm embraces, calling them “uncle” or “auntie”. I mean, the whole Valley is her extended Polynesian family. Oh, and one last thing, back to the Mansfield Winery. One of their most successful wines, besides their small lot Cabernet Sauvignons, Merlots, Zinfandels, Rieslings, and Chardonnays, is their…pineapple wine. Pineapple wine in Napa Valley? I’m telling you, it’s more than mere coincidence.

Everybody knows of the Big Island, Hawaii, and of course, Oahu, Maui, and Kauai. And many know of the smaller islands, Lanai, Niihau, and Kahoolawe. But I bet you didn’t know about the furthest island to the east. Napa Valley could very well be the lost ninth Hawaiian island. Think about it.

The Smallest Winery in Napa Valley

Rollie Heitz was measuring his cellar – he had about four more inches of room along the left wall and another eighteen inches in depth and was trying to figure out just how best he might use that extra space. “Since I’m paying for it, I might as well try and use ever bit of room I can,” he said with a crafty twinkle in his eyes. Rollie was showing us his new winemaking facility on Sage Canyon Road, about two tenths of a mile off the Silverado Trail – in the old Limur winery – where he was currently making wine under his Midsummer Cellars label. Once off the Trail at 771 Sage Canyon Road, those with quick eyes will catch sight of the small sign at the roadside on the right identifying the entrance. “I wanted to have a bigger sign out front,” Rollie explained, “using a full sheet of plywood, but I couldn’t get permission. Then I proposed half a sheet . . . I ended up with sign measuring two feet by three feet.” Which was apropos, since the Midsummer Cellars winery was probably the smallest winery in Napa Valley, every bit of a thousand square feet tops and with a ceiling height of barely seven feet. That was why all the measuring. “I could get another ten gallons, if I could purchase larger barrels that still fit in the same sized barrel racks,” Rollie calculated. With the tight overhead most wineries have to contend with (no pun intended), it was no wonder Rollie had out the measuring tape. “Now, if barrel coopers would start make barrels six inches around and four feet long, then I might slide a couple more underneath along the walls,” Rollie joked, and I laughed along with him about the newly discovered business model for barrel coopers – oddly shaped barrels for tight cellars – square ones, and triangular ones, and tall narrow ones, and long skinny ones shaped like torpedoes.

But don’t think for a moment that the wines are small coming from this winery, especially the 2004 Midsummer Cellar’s Cañon Creek Vineyard Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, which Rollie poured for me over lunch. We were having carnitas burritos and gourmet chocolate brownies at a small outdoor table next to the winery under what Rollie informed me was one of the oldest Valley Oak trees in the area. The tree, clearly old and massive, with limbs reaching out above our heads thicker than most tree trunks you might happen to see, looked more like something created in a Hollywood special effects shop for another The Lord of the Rings movie than a real living thing. Rollie informed me that for a long time the massive tree was a corner marker for the area. It had been significantly old enough a couple hundred years ago to be chosen for that purpose when George Yount was still exploring the Valley (the town of Yountville was later named after him).

The Cabernet Sauvignon was obviously amazing – obviously because Rollie put in eighteen plus years working for his families’ legendary Heitz Cellars winery when he was younger – that was before branching out on his own with his Midsummer Cellars label – and also obviously because his perfume-laden wine was going so amazingly well with carnitas burritos of all things. Rollie just smiled knowingly as I helped myself to another glass. You always know when you’re drinking a wine of extraordinary quality when you have to hold back the primitive impulse to shove everybody to the ground and hog the entire bottle for yourself.

The 2004 Midsummer Cellars Cañon Creek Vineyard Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon retails for $48 with just over three hundred cases made, and Napa Cabs this good usually go for three times this much. Rollie just shrugs when I point this out. Maybe if he can figure out that barrel space dilemma there might be a few cases more for those lucky enough to get their hands on some. Hey, no shoving!

If you’re in the area, and would to like to visit Rollie and the giant Valley Oak at Midsummer Cellars, please call to make an appointment. Contact Rollie Heitz by phone at (707) 967-0432, or visit his web page at www.midsummercellars.com.

The Most Affordable Vacation in Napa Valley!

Have you ever wanted to escape it all and go live in wine country? Make award-winning wine, maybe fall in love? Or maybe just visit, but can’t seem to find the time? Now the wine country comes to you in The Good Life, A Chris Garrett Novel by David G. White, a fictional story about a winemaker whose winemaking skills are put to the ultimate test — solving a murder!

It’s harvest season, the most exciting time of year for winemaker Chris Garrett and also the busiest, where working long hours is the rule, not the exception. So when his mentor legendary winemaker Vic Miranda is found floating face down in a vat of fermenting wine, everyone assumes the drowning was an accident caused fatigue and overwork.

That’s the official line. But like badly made wine, Chris just can’t swallow it. Vic was too experienced. He must have been pushed into that vat. Only who did the pushing? With help from his friend Deputy Sheriff Jeff Beckwell, Chris investigates on his own, but poking your nose into other people’s business much like finding flaws in a highly touted cult cab is usually resented, and soon Chris is fending off accusations, threats and even an attempt on his life!

Who could want Chris dead? And does it have anything to do with Vic’s illicit love affair? Or was it more about the questionable land deal Vic was involved in? And who is the alluring woman in the red dress that is so curious about Vic’s death — and Chris’s interest in it? Can highly honed winemaking skills help Chris detect the clues into why his mentor was murdered? Perhaps it’s those very skills that will make it possible for Chris to solve the mystery.

The Good Life: A Chris Garrett Novel is available for $24.95 at Amazon.com, BarnesandNoble.com, select bookstores and outlets. To download Chapter 1, please go to www.harmonandwhite.com.

Sweet Grapes at Bouchaine

“Starlings really aren’t that tasty,” Adam Leach says, making a face at us for added emphasis. “Trust me, I trained and worked as a chef before becoming a winemaker.” I’m at Bouchaine Vineyards in the Los Carneros region of Napa Valley, discussing the menace of starlings that descend on the Appellation during harvest season, happily gorging themselves on wine grapes. Chatting with Adam is Sal Godinez the winemaker for Carneros della Notte, who custom crushes at Bouchaine and who earlier offered up an effective though novel measure of dealing with the starling hordes. “In Mexico, we just eat them,” Sal said with a wolfish grin, which brought on Adam’s reply. “Of course, in Mexico, we eat most everything,” Sal jokingly points out. “Chapulinas anyone?” Chapulinas if you’re not familiar are a kind of grasshopper that is dried and then seasoned with chili powder. Deliciously crunchy, I’ve heard, though I’ve been too chicken to try them myself. As if reading my mind, Sal says with a shrug, “They’re not bad.” Adam goes on, “If I had a choice I’d prefer cooking quail,” which is apropos since we earlier this morning flushed a covey of them next to the winery while driving down Buchli Station road. Do quail also eat wine grapes? -- Pretty sure they eat grasshoppers.

Bouchaine, if you haven’t already guessed it, is off the beaten path in the southern most leg of Los Carneros away from the traffic and the crowds and is still very rural. A nearby neighbor has put up a hand-painted sign at the edge of the road that reads, “Pigs for sale.” Bouchaine grows primarily pinot noir and chardonnay fruit -- not pigs – and these days is making some amazing wines, though if you happen to visit the winery you just might get a chance to taste some wines made from other varietals as well, since winemakers love to tinker. On a recent visit I got to try a dry pinot meunier (a red grape -- cousin to pinot noir usually used in sparkling wines), a locally grown Los Carneros syrah, and even some sweet late harvest chardonnay, which had gotten us talking about the starlings in the first place. Late harvest wines are made from grapes that are left on the vine, hence the danger from hungry birds, and allowed to increase in sweetness well beyond the level at which still wines are usually harvested, sometimes upwards of 30 degrees Brix (Brix being the measurement of sugar in grape juice). Still wines for example are usually picked between 20 and 24 degrees Brix, depending on what type of wine is being made. “Late harvest” is a term used by wineries to identify wines that are fermented to a certain point and then left with a percentage of sugar remaining, keeping it sweet. Mike Richmond, the General Manager and Winemaker at Bouchaine whom Adam refers to as the Grand Master, joins us, smiling kindly with his bushy white moustache and glances at the birds. He doesn’t seem alarmed about the starlings. To tell you the truth, he doesn’t seem alarmed about anything. Mike’s been making wine in Carneros since the early 70’s, co-founding Acacia Winery down the road and showing the rest of the world what could be accomplished growing grapes and making wine in this most southern Appellation of Napa Valley. Now, Mike is the visionary behind Bouchaine, and tasting the impressive wines he and Adam and the crew at the winery are currently producing, we quickly note it’s not only the birds who will be flocking here.

Knowing a good thing when you taste it was exactly what was in store at the Officers Club at Fort Mason in San Francisco on February 10, 2007, where The Affairs of the Vine held their annual Pinot Shootout. The event as it is aptly named, is all about pinot noir with seminars and a tasting of over forty of the top wines previously judged and proffered blind for enjoyment, wrapped in tinfoil to hide their identity, letting everyone have a chance at picking out the best of the lot, pitting their palate against the panel of judges. If you want to find out more about which pinot noir wines scored highest, check out The Affairs of the Vine, website at affairsofthevine.com.

Takes A Lot of Burgers to Make Wine

There’s something deeply satisfying about pruning grape vines—the clearing away of last year’s unruly growth and tidying up the trellis—spring cleaning, only it usually happens in the winter. Or maybe it’s better described as giving the vines a much-needed haircut, because that’s just what it looks like. We’re in David Harmon’s DIII Vineyard in the southern part of Napa Valley in the Los Carneros Appellation, from which Carneros della Notte makes their vineyard designated pinot noir (that's David Harmon pruning grapes in the photo). It’s gorgeous outside—the kind of day people can’t keep from smiling about—clear blue skies, the air fresh and clean and a pleasure to breathe with just the right amount of chill to make pruning enjoyable. Indio, a black Labrador of David Harmon’s hustles up and down the rows packing cut shoots like prideful trophies. We’re pre-pruning, which is the first step in pruning that takes off the bulk of last years wood, but still leaves on about eight inches of the shoots with as many buds, while at the same time leaving wood still needed to fill in any gaps in the trellis. The task cleans up the vines so that it is easier to see where to make the final pruning decisions. David Harmon says, “There’s another reason we leave more wood on the vine at this first pass through the vineyard. It’s weather insurance. For example, if the weather happens to turn warm early in the spring and buds begin to push, buds on the ends farthest from the roots open first. So when the weather turns cold again, those buds will be lost to frost, but the buds lower down that haven’t pushed yet will remain protected.” Though, speaking from experience, pre-pruning can have its hazards as well, like when a just clipped shoot whips back and catches you in the eye! Ouch!

Later we stop in at the Napa Valley Grille in Yountville (which, unfortunately, is no longer open), because it’s Thursday, and Thursday’s Slider and a Beer night, a popular get together spot for winemakers to catch up and network. For five bucks you get a Kobe beef burger (Slider)—that’s right Kobe beef, from Japanese cows that drink sake’ and whose muscles get regularly massaged so the fat is uniformly distributed throughout the meat (meaning juicy)—and your choice from a plethora of micro-brewed beers. All for five bucks! No wonder you’ll find so many winemakers hanging out—they generally know a good thing when they see it, or better, taste it. Chuck Custodio, of Trahan, who happens to already be at the bar sipping a beer when we arrive claims he once downed as many as six Kobe burgers at one sitting, with even more beers. “They’re that good,” he says nodding for added emphasis. Somehow, when he says that it feels more like a dare.

Some of the other winemakers on hand are Mark Raymond the General Manager of Tamber Bey, and Jim McMahon from Luna, who also has his own label Athair, along with Jarred Pearce and what often occurs is that some wines get brought in and passed around to be evaluated and enjoyed by those on hand. Tonight, Mark has brought a 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon from Tamber Bey that gets poured liberally and expert noses take a serious appraisal. Mark smiles knowingly as the wine gets many satisfied nods. Also tonight, David Harmon has brought in his 2004 Los Carneros Pinot Noir along with his sweet 2005 Late Harvest Botrytis Pinot Noir for general perusal, catching the eye of the Napa Valley Grille’s Chef Thad Lyman who somehow has escaped the kitchen and sauntered over to try Dave’s wines. The 2004 Los Carneros is fabulous juice, and arguably better —believe it or not—than the 2003, which won last year's The Affairs of the Vine 2006 Pinot Shootout, being picked by women as the number one wine out of 240 entries. That’s saying something. Only what has caught Chef Lyman’s attention is the Late Harvest Botrytis Pinot Noir. The novelty—being the only wine of it’s kind made in 2005—brings people over, like the Chef. But make no mistake it’s the taste that makes his eyes sparkle. When Chef Lyman asks to take the bottle over to his sommelier for a private discussion, David Harmon can’t keep his own eyes from sparkling as well. (Chef Lyman has moved to Brix 25 Restaurant in Gig Harbor, WA - we wish him all the best)

The New Turks

Visiting with Chuck Custodio (in the photo to the left) and Ted Osbourne at Piña Napa Valley in Rutherford off the Silverado Trail, I noticed right away they were running out of room. Barrels, barrels everywhere, with not a place to drink, but drinking was why I had stopped by – I wanted to taste some wines and grab some last minute gifts before the holidays. Actually, there was hardly a place inside the winery to turn around. “Yeah,” Ted said, grinning, “we’ve been planning to add on to our barrel storage, but this year things kind of got away from us.” Besides the barrels stored in the cellar stacked on racks twenty or more feet clear to the ceiling (mostly French oak, some costing upwards of $1200 a piece) were more barrels crowding the space in front of the wine-tasting table, and still more barrels blocking the stairway to the offices and even more barrels squeezing the area before the doorway to the wine lab. The only way to get to the restrooms at all was stepping under and through the rolling barrel ladder!

Granted Piña is small, even by boutique standards, but because of the obvious success and fantastic wines Ted and Chuck were producing, both for Piña and for their own respective labels – Chuck Custodio makes superb wines under his Trahan label, and Ted Osbourne has recently garnered stellar ratings from the Wine Spectator for his Olabisi brand – word is getting out, which accounts for the current space limitations. “We’re growing, obviously,” Chuck said, smiling. “We’ve tried keeping things organized so the barrels we need to get at are those easily at hand,” he said shaking his head at the stacks, “but of course that never happens. The barrels we need to work with next are always buried someplace in the back.” The best laid plans of cellar rats and men. Only in the last few days have all the fall chores that started up during harvest finally wound down enough for the men (and women) to catch their breath. With this season’s fermented wine now finally barreled down, both of these men were looking forward to a relaxing holiday.

In the Los Carneros appellation of Napa Valley though, Sal Godinez, winemaker for Carneros Della Notte was still at it, busy even this late into the season with a unique project of his own. Only calling it unique hardly does it justice. Sal is making a Late Harvest Botrytis Pinot Noir and last year, the first year Carneros Della Notte made this wine, called Eclipse, trying to get label approval turned out to be unexpectedly difficult. Apparently no one had ever applied for such a wine before. There certainly are Pinot Noir wines, and Late Harvest wines, and Late Harvest Pinot Noir wines, but never a Late Harvest Botrytis Pinot Noir. The government had to create a whole new category. So yes, Eclipse is unique, but more than that, it might be the only wine of its kind in the world.

Botrytis, sometimes referred to as Noble Rot is a mold that grows on grapes, especially in moist rainy years. “It isn’t something winemakers usually ask for,” Sal chuckles, as he finishes explaining to the pickers what he’s after. He’s in the Thompson vineyard and the picking crews are following his orders to pick only the clusters covered with mold. “Telling them not to pick the beautiful clusters, but to leave them on the vine goes against everything they’ve come to know. But the good clusters just water down the wine.” Not only is the picking crew looking at Sal as if he’s lost his mind, David Iund the grower tries to smile, only the smile is one of incredulity. He’s holding in his hands a bottle of Eclipse that Sal made last year. The clear bottle lets the brilliant ruby color of the wine shine through, but even this doesn’t seem to entirely convince him. “Farmers see only spoiled grapes,” Sal says, “but what I see are peach and apricot flavors, and maybe some walnuts, in the finished wine.” Taking a cluster from the vine, Sal sticks his nose into the mold and inhales and I follow suit. The Botrytis smells like truffles or mushrooms, along with the hauntingly sweet perfume of the pinot noir fruit. The finished wine is lip-smackingly sweet. A noble nectar to be sure.