Wine Country Wander

The Life and Times of a Bon Vivant and Raconteur

I lightly smash my fist against the flat side of my big knife, squishing the garlic clove into its bed of coarse sea salt. The morning air is so ripe with this Mediterranean perfume I want to bite it…my seduction begins …I am treating you to a day of dalliance in wine country. I’m the captain of this cruise and I want to create memories you can tuck in your pocket and pull out when you need a smile…I start by filling my wicker picnic basket with food fit for the gods and you…chicken breasts marinated in blood oranges and lots of cracked black pepper…I grilled them in the garden early this morning… the garlic is for the tomato panzanella with freshly plucked oregano…of course a sour dough baguette…a Danish Castello cheese that I have decided is my new “cream of blue decadence”…some of the first plump, ripe cherries and a baggie of semi-sweet chocolate chips. I wrap up the chicken and chocolate, separately of course, with one of those ice thingies but not the cheese, tomatoes and cherries…I want them at room temperature. Lots of napkins and my checked tablecloth and a corkscrew go in and I can hardly close my basket. I lug the thing down and put it in the trunk of my purple convertible. A few years back on another wine trip I christened my car “The Naked Grape” and gave her a theme song “Peel Me a Grape” sung by Diana Krall…speaking of music that’s the next essential for a wine country excursion. I load the car with music to tempt you, music that will become the soundtrack of our day.
I’ve decided we’ll savor the delights of the Dry Creek Appellation. I had originally thought to show you around a bit of Napa but when I was doing my research, (a must), I discovered that it is a passport weekend in Napa. The place will be packed like a movie theatre with “Sideways” wannabe’s trying to hit 12 wineries in one day. By contrast our trip will be a leisurely stroll down a wine red carpet. I make it a rule on these trips to visit only about 4 wineries, that leaves room for changes in the itinerary. Today, I’m going to show you a little bit of everything, I want to see someone new “Christopher Creek Winery”, ogle the “nouveau riche” and check out the gardens at Ferrari-Carano , hug an old friend at “Preston of Dry Creek” then finish our quest with a surprise.
The Dry Creek Appellation is an area of Northern Sonoma County on the west side of Highway 101; it is parallel to Alexander Valley on the east side. It runs from about Healdsburg up to Lake Sonoma. The primary varietals grown here are: Zinfandel, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. This is not all you will taste in Dry Creek…here will be a Chardonnay, there a Viogner and every once in a while that grand daddy of the wine world…a fine port reminiscent of the days of grand sailing ships when the world turned a little slower and one had time to savor the end of the day. I collect ports, one sip at a time. Port is one of the reasons for our first stop today.
Patricia, my neighbor, climbs into the car with me. I put my sunglasses on and the ragtop down and sail off down the road with a heart felt ‘Yee-Haaaaw’ as K. D. Lang’s “Absolutely Torch and Twang” trots out of the speakers. The day is sunny and warm; the vineyards are lush and green; and the company is fine and feelin’ good…we’re heading north to our first stop, Christopher Creek.
Christopher Creek is at the very top of the Russian River Valley right about where Dry Creek Valley begins. We find our way to Limerick Lane and turn up the long driveway. past hills that are like a verdant green corduroy with row after row after row of vines. I park and we get out and head for the tasting room but I am completely waylaid by the absolutely stupendous roses. I have to stop and cup my hands around one blowsy piece of perfection and inhale the sweet, sweet… but I digress …on to the wine.
I tug open the wooden door and laughter comes bubbling out. My ears perk up, I hear locals talking; we may have struck gold here. The tasting room is presided over by the likeable and knowledgeable Christina. The door creaks and the locals leave with their treasures in tow and she starts explaining the tasting list to us; by the way I always ask for a copy of the list to make my notes on. Our first wine is a unique 2005 Russian River “Catie’s Corner Viognier. This wine is rich and lively with a wildflower-tropical nose. It would pair very well with Thai food or shellfish.
The way I remember all of that folderol about how to taste wine is to imagine the wine is a gorgeous woman making a grand entrance:
1. first I notice the color of her dress
2. then I hold her up to the light to better appreciate her
3. I set her down and she shows off by swirling around in front of me
4. I pull her close for a couple of quick sniffs of her perfume
5. slowly I take her in and let her dance all over my tongue
6. Then swallow to see if this one lingers like an almost remembered dream.
This is a little freaky but it works for me. Occasionally while performing this ritual some performer will pop into my mind, this happens to me with their jammy 2003 Russian River Zinfandel. The first thing that pops into my mind is the word naughty, then in walks Bette Davis. I respect this wine it is rich and sassy and would pair well with something spicy like Pasta Puttanesca.
Christopher Creek has several wines to chose from, be sure to finish with the ports to get a taste of the wide range of their abilities. This place has a genuine ambience and the tasting is complimentary. I recommend a visit.
Our next stop is at the top of Dry Creek Valley, the very grand, Ferrari-Carano Vineyards and Winery, for the visual candy of the Italianate Villa Fiore and the spectacular gardens. The Villa is surrounded by classic Italian/French geometric gardens and there is a magical enclosed garden. There you will find a foot path wandering along a little stream, crossing foot bridges and leading to gazebos and waterfalls. There is wonderful statuary sprinkled throughout both gardens. Today the grounds are a frippery of color. This place is also home to over 2000 varieties of trees and bushes among them a few successfully growing Portuguese cork trees. See if you can find them.
I have never been enthralled with their wines and today after an exceptionally weird tasting, (white poured on top of the dregs of a red), I‘m leaving and will have no recommendations. I am sure some people find their wines delightful; I’ve even heard they are served at the White House. I do love the gardens and recommend visiting them and I also found the ladies room quite nice. As we drive away the Moody Blues “I know you’re out there somewhere” pours out of the speakers.
We head for, Preston of Dry Creek. I see the sign and turn onto a dirt road that splits, around both sides of a lovely tree, then bends to the right past some very happy artichokes. To our left an old house, covered with wisteria vines, borders one side of a lawn with tables under trees, flower and vegetable beds, a fountain and a bocce ball court. Across the yard is the wide front porch of Sue and Lou Preston’s Winery. To the side of the door there is a table with fresh produce, a scale and a jar for leaving money. We walk into this genial place where we’ll be tasting not only the Preston wines but also their homemade bread and fresh virgin olive oil, all that and you! I just might start spouting poetry. I am a big fan of their 2005 Zinfandel. If you’ve ever wanted to know what is meant by “a peppery finish” taste this wine, it is a text book example.
From the tasting bar I take us to the doorway at the back of the room. We step through and are enveloped in cool air and the heady smell of wine in oak. We’re in the barrel room where people are clustered around a table. The guy behind the table is filling jugs, not bottles, with a wine that I instinctively know I am going to like. He looks up and smiles. This is Preston. He starts telling us how he only fills jugs, with Guadagni red, on Sundays. He created this wine in honor of his old, Italian neighbor, Jim Guadagni. When they first settled in Dry Creek in the early 70’s, Jim made it his job to pass on his wine wisdom to them. You can only buy this rich, red wine here and only on Sunday. If you are lucky Lou Preston will fill your jug and tell you about Jim. $30 bucks for 3 liters of good wine and a good story. Love it.
Now for the surprise! We’re going to Raymond Burr Vineyards and Winery, yes, the place that Perry Mason built. We turn up the driveway and shortly we see the greenhouses that are home to his world class orchid collection, (make an appointment and you can tour them.) We park and walk up to one of the most picturesque pergola’s in wine country. Immediately we are greeted by Francisco and offered wine. Turns out we’ve fortuitously arrived for a celebration in honor of what would have been Raymond Burr’s 91st birthday!
Patricia mentions port and Francisco says “let’s go inside and meet Sue.“
We walk in and my eyes are immediately glued to a high shelf, my goodness, those are real Emmy’s. I comment on a Bacchus on the wall and immediately realize the drawing looks suspiciously like Mr. Burr. We meet Sue who is a down home gal. She starts chatting with us like we come by every day to borrow a cup of sugar, inviting us to try the 2004 Chardonnay. I take my little sip and my tongue does a back flip…this is what I first loved about chardonnays and what I had forgotten about them…dare I say it… this is a buttery Chardonnay…honey overtones and a long vanilla finish…oh, I’m happy…and look over there all those TV Guides with Perry on the front.
The view is the rolling vineyards of the estate. The wines are 100% estate grown. This perfection was created by Raymond Burr and his partner Robert Benevides. I want to taste the 2000 Cabernet Sauvignon and Sue disappears… then pops back in with two pieces of chocolate birthday cake, yes! I do my silly “glamour gal” tasting ritual and gads this isn’t some movie queen of a wine! This handsome, rich, bold, red is Raymond Burr in a bottle. I take a bite of cake and it is shear bliss, no pun intended, but this is a match made in heaven. Immediately I’m planning a menu to go with this wine: a richly marbled steak grilled over wine cask staves, sautéed porcini’s, a baguette, green salad and this cake. Sue brings me back from my reverie to taste the 2005 Estate Port. Mr. Burr personally picked the Portuguese Grape varietals to make this rich, ruby wine. Sue says we have to have some more cake with the port …of course…why not?...one should never refuse birthday cake!
Join me next time in my pursuit of the “Julia Roberts” of bubblies.

“May your company be the kind you keep,
May your love be returned
And
May you find a way to give back to the world”

Charselle
© 6/1/08

The Stuff Of Our Life or How to Catch A Falling Star

Humans collect things. It is how we identify ourselves, how we judge others and how they judge us. Our ability to accessorize be it ourselves or our environment, has jokingly been said to separate us from the animals.

We start with little toys and tiny wonders like shiny rocks. As we get older the toys get bigger and the rocks get shinier. We amass the collections of our life, things as diverse as tools and bells or cars and stamps. Each of us has our own preferences. Yet there is one thing that we all collect. The one collection that is priceless and precious, that we never grow out of or give away…our memories, little snapshots that are frozen in time inside us.

This is the time of year that I peruse my mental scrapbook for the important moments of my life…here are a few from my collection:

1. on a photo expedition, to the Napa Valley Wine country, I was wandering the back roads, not knowing what I was looking for, when suddenly there it was…a giant tree with it’s bare dark branches reaching like a thousand hands up, up into the crisp blue sky…next to the tree a dirt road wound by and disappeared into the hills…I realized as I snapped a digital and a mental picture, that there I was smack dab in the middle of “the road less traveled”.

2. Sitting outside of Café Trieste in San Francisco’s North Beach on a wobbly little café chair. The day was one of those smoky, gray-fog days that make the whole city look like an old Sam Spade movie. I was jacking myself up on the smell of my double espresso taking little sips and thinking about the poetry reading I would be giving soon when I saw my friend George. George is yellow: yellow socks, yellow shoes, yellow jacket and yellow pants and I’m sure yellow underwear. Bright, brilliant, make you smile yellow. George smokes and for years I have been a notorious cigarette bum. I asked him for one. He laughed, knocked one out of a yellow cigarette pack and lit it for me with a yellow bic lighter. I immediately commenced coughing and hacking and to my utter surprise I realized that I had quit smoking without knowing it, after 20 years of trying! Haven’t had one since!

3. Snapshots of the friends I’m with now and my joy every year when I get that phone call from my friend Dorinda. Every year she shows up for a day and I revel in her company. She is a wise and gracious Southern Lady and being with her takes me back to my youth and the belief that all things are possible. We always do something cultural and girly, this year we visited the newly reopened DeYoung Museum and had pedicures. She is truly one of my lifelong friends. You know the kind you can count on one hand.

many, many memories of the little girl in my life....

4. Every year I get excited waiting for the trees to bloom, pink tree time is one of my favorite times of the year. I celebrate pink trees and photograph hundreds of them every year. This past Spring I decided to have a pink tree day with that special little girl. We packed a spring picnic with blue and yellow Easter Eggs and set off for Golden Gate Park. Our first stop was at the huge, glass, birdcage of a Victorian building “The Conservatory of Flowers." They were having a live butterfly exhibit. We walked into that magic fairy land as butterflies flew all around and frequently landed on her. (It might have had something to do with the pink outfit and the perfume.) She was so happy and so gentle as she learned to not touch them when they landed on her and used her ticket stub to gently place them on the plants. She was so pure and beautiful. Then we walked in the soft Spring rain through the Japanese Tea Garden, which was filled with blossoming cherry trees. We sat in the Tea house which is over the koi pond and sipped the jasmine tea while trying to draw the ephemeral beauty of the pink trees glistening in the rain. Then I noticed an exquisite, cherry blossom petal floating on the pond as gentle raindrops created little ripples on the water’s surface. Pure Peace.


5. Taking my special little friend to buy her first real ballet slippers and leotard. I felt like I was seven! Long summer days waiting for her at the ballet school, hearing the echoing laughter of the girls bubbling out of the dressing room, waiting outside of a sold-out ballet performance for a chance at a no-show ticket. She was all dressed up and had aching longing on her face that was so poignant that they gave us two of the best seats in the house.

6. Learning to play again while teaching her to swim. Giggling and building a fairy house, then watching her decorate it with fresh flowers and listening to her tell me about how the fairies would be happy when they found them.

7. Sad memories of her crying in the middle of the night as she told me about how hard it was to not have her important people all in one house. Being grateful that she could talk with me and praying for guidance to help her as her sadness ripped my guts out.

8. Helping her to rediscover the magic of Christmas after someone told her there was no Santa. Her excitement on realizing that we didn’t need money to buy Christmas presents because we were blessed with creativity and could make them. I watched her deliver her homemade treats to the neighbors. We visited the reindeer at the zoo and Santa at the mall, roasted marshmallows and brought the magic back.

9. Feeling truly blessed.

Take a little time to look through your memories for they are your true treasures.