Finally, it’s time. 

The beginning of harvest season officially kicked off over the Labor Day weekend with the arrival of the first sauvignon blanc grapes into the CrushPad winery.  You can see a short video about that event by clicking here. 

As for our grapes, it’s looking like early next week for the pinot from Doctor’s vineyard in the Santa Lucia Highlands to come in.  Our winemaker Chris Nelson sent us the following note on Monday:

Brix: 24.8
pH: 3.20
TA: 10.0

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Note that these are the numbers on the earlier ripening fruit (Calera and 115). We’re getting there for sugar and flavor, we just need the acid to drop a bit so we’re going to push it into next week for the first pick.

Wondering what we’ll be doing on crush day?  You can see a short video about it by clicking here.  We’ve been told to expect to get very dirty and covered in grape juice stains (how is that different from being at home with three young kids every day??)

If you want to join us, CrushPad is offering 3-hour Crush Camps that will provide a fun and intensive experience at the winery.   We expect to be up there at least four times over the next six weeks so we can definitely arrange for a fun experience for anyone who wants to get dirty (and can get to the winery on relatively short notice).

It’s amazing to think that eight months ago this was all just a hair-brained idea and now we’re about to bring in our first grapes.  It’s going to be a great few weeks!

The estimated harvest dates for Doctor’s vineyard in the Santa Lucia Highlands are September 8 - 16 and for Annahala vineyard in Anderson Valley it’s September 26 - October 10 (note that the Doctor’s timing has been moved up by a week since our last update).  Why the spread?  Why the secrecy?  It sounds like a conspiracy by Southwest Airlines to force us to buy the most expensive seats at the last minute possible.  If you’re vexed, we are too.  But in reality, deciding when to pick your grapes is arguably the most important winemaking decision one makes after selecting a grape variety.  After all, the flavor of the grapes at harvest and the sugar level at that moment, largely predetermine the outcome of your finished product.  While oak barrel aging can soften some viticultural sins, wood can only ameliorate a finite amount of damage before your wine tastes like a 2 x 4 plank from Home Depot.  So really, it all begins with the caliber of your fruit.

Being practical, we give a range of dates because a vineyard may not ripen evenly.  Vines further up or down a slope, facing more southwardly, closer to an irrigation drip line, or under the shade of a nearby tree may ripen before or after berries at the other end of a property.  Some vintners specifically pick and re-pick at delayed intervals, forcing Nature’s hand and playing the odds, hoping for a little more sun and a bit more sweetness.  Harvest roulette is routinely practiced among Germany’s vineyards, where acreage is planted at the northernmost limit of viticultural boundaries, so maximizing sugar is the foremost objective.  Wait one more day and perhaps you’ll be rewarded with that coveted bump in brix, but gambling for sunshine (and subsequently more sugar) is always tempered by the threat of rain, rot, and unusable fruit.  Josh Jensen of Calera Wine Company here in California has famously oscillated between keeping grapes from first, middle and final harvest sweeps together or separate and treated uniquely. 

So it would seem that waiting longer to harvest your fruit is better, right?  At budbreak, spring’s minute, green berries are characterized by mouth-puckering acidity.  This gradually mellows to balanced sweetness after veraison, as grapes mature from hard green nodules into succulent, purple globes.  You’d imagine that since “riper,” sweeter fruit contains greater natural sugar, this yields a more desirable end product.  Indeed some regions like the Southern Central Coast (think Santa Barbara) are lauded for “long hang times,” where grapes have spent more time on the vine, theoretically developing a fuller, more intricate and layered flavor profile.  Yet as grapes grow and pulp increases, acid is diluted, which is not necessarily a desirable attribute.  After all, some acid is compulsory for structure, balance, and spunky vibrancy.  And so it appears the best fruit hails from a long, steady stint on the vine with just enough sugar that acid isn’t sacrificed completely.

But as always, pinot noir plays the maverick.  Thin skinned and less intensely pigmented than other famous red Vinifera, pinot naturally tends towards less deeply colored wines.  Thus exacting pinot wine makers rely on higher alcohol concentrations to coax the maximum color extraction from their fruit.  And what determines alcohol levels?  Why the sugar level, of course.  The natural sugar in the berries at harvest provides the primary substrate for those carb craving yeast during fermentation.  Thus the sugar concentration at harvest (known as percent brix) is the primary determinant of the percentage alcohol in the finished wine.  Farmers use all kids of contraptions, from simple refractometers in the field to complex hydrometers in enology laboratories to measure and monitor percent brix.  Pinot is harvested at the higher end of the scale, usually between 24 and 25 percent brix.  But can science trump the human palate?  What if brix is maximized but the varietal character of the berry is not yet fully realized?  What cutting edge technology, beyond our maximally evolved taste buds, can better measure and interpret the intensity, depth, or complexity of flavor?

And so we come full circle.  Sometimes the best way to determine if a crop is ready for harvest is for a wizened farmer to trek into vines at dawn, when the berries are still slick with condensation, and to taste them.  When the fruit is ripe and balanced, deep and layered, robust yet refined, and tastes entirely the way a pinot grape should, well then, the berries are ready.  And clearly we cannot plan for that day too far in advance.

Vote for the August Charity Winner:  Well, we learned that the polling software doesn’t get picked up in the e-mail feed.  So, if you want to vote for the August charity winner, you need to CLICK HERE and vote on the site.  Over 50 votes have been registered so far, but it is still an open race.  The poll is only open until 8am on September 2^nd, so vote now!

Harvest Update:  We’ve received the following date ranges for the upcoming harvest periods.  We should get about 48-hours prior notice for our specific crush/sort date and time.  Doctor’s Vineyard:  9/16/08 - 9/30/08.  Annahala Vineyard:  9/26/08 - 10/10/08.

Wine Spectator Snafu:  Wine Spectator recently published their annual restaurant review issue.  Splashed across the cover was the headline:  “Restaurant Wine Service - Not Good Enough!”  Maybe it should have read:  “Restaurant Review Service - Not Good Enough.”   It seems that one Robin Goldstein entered a fake restaurant for review by Wine Spectator this year and was actually awarded their Award of Excellence.  Not only did the restaurant not exist, but the wines that Goldstein provided on the fake wine list were among the lowest rated wines in Wine Spec’s recent history.  According to Wine Spectator their Award of Excellence is, “the basic award, for lists that offer a well-chosen selection of quality producers, along with a thematic match to the menu in both price and style. Typically, these lists offer at least 100 selections.”  You can read about the exploit here.  A reminder to all of us not to take any of these things too seriously!

Sagient Update:  I’m very pleased to announce that for the second year in a row Sagient Research was named to the Inc. 5000 list as one of America’s Fastest Growing Companies.  We’ve got a ways to go to match the #1 performer who had a three year revenue growth rate of 31,525%!  How is that even possible??  Needless to say, I’m very proud of the great team we’ve got here and all the hard work they’ve been putting in over the past few years.

Bruliam Brigade:  The pictures keep streaming in and we currently have a nice backlog of pictures.  But don’t let that dissuade you from sending in your shots.  Remember to take your Bruliam t-shirt on your next trip, outing, or escapade.

As we enter the last week of summer, the anticipation of our pending harvest is almost overwhelming.  When will the grapes come in?  What is the yield?  Is there any frost or smoke damage?  Will the stems look ripe (for whole cluster fermentation)?  What’s the brix?  And so on. 

We can’t wait to go up to CrushPad and sort our grapes for the first time.  In fact, we’d love for you to join us!!  Since we’re sourcing our grapes from colder weather regions, the pick date is still probably a month or so away.  But if you are in the Bay Area or feel like flying in on the spur of the moment, Brigade members are welcome.  You’ll be able to tour the facility, help us sort grapes, drink some pre-fermented juice, star in the videos we’ll be taking for this site, and we’ll even treat for lunch or dinner at one of our favorite restaurants in the city.  Unfortunately, we probably won’t have more than 48-hours advance notice.  But if you are interested in being alerted, shoot us an e-mail or post a comment on the site (click here) and we’ll try to give you as much of a heads-up as we can. 

In the interim, below I’ve listed what we know about the status of our grapes.  I’m not sure how this data is going to look in the e-mails, so if it is difficult to read please click here to view it online.

Annahala Vineyard, Anderson Valley:

 Doctor’s Vineyard, Santa Lucia Highlands:

Harvest Update - 8/27/08:  We’ve received the following date ranges for the upcoming harvest periods.  We should get about 48-hours prior notice for our specific crush/sort date and time.  Doctor’s Vineyard:  9/16/08 - 9/30/08.  Annahala Vineyard:  9/26/08 - 10/10/08.

An oversized, glossy, local magazine recently published its restaurant issue.  Nestled among write ups of San Diego’s newest foodie havens was a cryptic shout out to one Jesse Rodriguez, marked by a blurb espousing, “We heart you Jesse.”  What is this - a line from Tiger Beat magazine (by the way, did you know this mag still exists?)?  Is some San Diego teeny bopper plastering her bright, pink wall with a poster of “Jesse” right next to the Jonas Brothers?  Is Jesse in a rock band?  Nope.  Is he a Padre or a Charger?  Nope.  Is he a ripped, shirtless surfer type or model?  Not even close- well, the surfer part, I mean.  Jesse is the Wine Director at The Grand Del Mar and a Master Sommelier candidate.  On top of that, I haven’t actually seen Jesse in months.  He’s been holed up in the resort’s cavernous wine cellar stocking and organizing wines and drinking his way though Europe (lucky bastard!).  So how did those ingratiating magazine wine groupies get a grip on San Diego’s latest and greatest thing?  Folks, I think we have we entered the era of the celebrity sommelier!  If the hunky chef-cum-US Magazine celebrity is passé, then your sommelier may be your new BFF.  (In fact wine could be the next, great, untapped frontier of reality television.  Wouldn’t you rather see a handful of blindfolded sommeliers duke it out over unmarked vintages of Latour instead of petty, camera hungry line cooks making Padma breakfast sandwiches?).  If I sound snarky, it’s only because I thought Jesse was my secret, but it looks like the word’s out. 

I cannot emphasize enough the ways you should love your sommelier.  Not only are these men and women on staff to provide you with a free education in the global world of wine but also they are your ticket to an infinitely more exciting meal.  They love wine, and they love their job, which is to get you to love wine, too.  Personally, I have only experienced a few uninspired, passionless, or uninterested sommeliers.  But if you’re lucky, the best are warm, down to earth, unintimidating individuals who will take your hand and guide you through a 155 page tome of a wine list with grace and ease.  They shouldn’t make you feel bad about ordering the cheapest bottle in the book or uncomfortable and self conscious if you’re a Vitis neophyte.  Instead they should make you look smart and confident, so you dazzle your future father-in-law with your erudite and thoughtful selection.  Here’s a fortune cookie secret: if you dare to order outside of your comfort zone or are bold enough to ask for help, you will be richly rewarded.  Really, who else has tasted 15 different wines from Estonia or knows the ins and outs of Israeli cabs?  Plus, if they even suspect you’re a geeky wino, well then there’s no telling what you’ll be treated to next.  You may even be shocked.

Here I innumerate some of the highlight of the free (yes, I said free) glasses of wine Brian and I have received from kind and generous sommeliers over the years: Chateau d’Yquem, Chateau Mouton Rothschild, killer small production Hermitage, aged Barolos that weren’t even listed on the menu, and innumerable, delectable glasses of sparkly Champagne.  Years ago, at Picasso in Las Vegas, an eager sommelier even sketched a map of Spain on a cloth napkin when I inquired after a Rioja we’d been served.  In fact, his off the cuff lecture on Spanish wine was infinitely more detailed than my UCD syllabus.  Even small eateries are not immune.  Today, we waltz into our neighborhood Italian joint, Lupi, and query the owner, “What’s not on the wine menu tonight?”  A few years back, Raffo excitedly introduced us to a grape we’d never tried, Nero d’Avola, which makes an iconic, dark, rich Sicilian wine.  Then last summer, in discussion with the Italian wine gurus at A16, I confidently told the sommelier, “Nero d’Avola?  We drink that all the time at home.  Show me something I’ve never tasted before…”  And she did.

In the coming months we’ll interview some of San Diego’s finest sommeliers to answer all of the questions you’ve ever been afraid to ask about ordering restaurant wine.  If you have any specific questions, just drop us a line, and we’ll add them to our list.  If you’re lucky, we’ll even capture the elusive “Jesse” on film!

So you’re out to dinner with your best, metrosexual, big wig buddy.  You know the type: a Ray-Ban wearing, Armani suit doffing, mildly irritating, name-dropping, B-list celeb clinger-on.  Out to impress, you present the magnum of Screaming Eagle you won/purchased at your kid’s preschool auction (note: if this was an actual auction item at your child’s school fundraiser please drop us a line so we can re-enroll our children elsewhere), and he sighs with ennui.  Clearly bored, he taunts you to dazzle him with something more exotic.  Dramatic commotion below your table, followed by a voila, and an abracadabra, and a bottle of La Tache vaporizes beside your breadplate.  Then, you reveal the piece de resistance: a bottle of Calera Jensen Vineyard Pinot Noir?  Gentlemen, we have a winner!  Now in a possessed trance, your dining companion lapses into a droning, mind numbing dissertation about “Calera clones,” Domaine Romanee-Conti cuttings, merits of Dijon 115 versus 667, UCD 1A, and the origin of UCD 4.  What have you done?

Wade though the murky grape must and thick pomace of pinot production deeply enough and you’re bound to get stuck in the thorny notion of clones.  Now, to paraphrase Samuel L. Jackson, “I am about to get scientific on your ass.”  Simply put, a clone is a vine or group of vines that were propagated asexually from a single “mother” vine; thus all of the progeny are genetically identical to the original parent plant (talk about growing up to become just like your mother!).  Presumably, all of the resultant vines have the same growing characteristics, berry size, berry weight, ripening profile, and most importantly, flavor.  When a grower picks out a particular clone of pinot noir, to further a specific flavor characteristic or mouthfeel or color, tannin, structure, composition, or whatever, that process is “clonal selection.”  Today specific clones of pinot noir are available to growers via commercial nurseries or through university programs like UC Davis.  Some of these clones are imported directly from France, plants known as Dijon clones.

As it relates to modern viticulture, clonal selection began in France in the 1950’s, with Raymond Bernard’s work in Morey-St.-Denis.  His original efforts sought to propagate disease free plants, so he tagged and observed visibly healthy vines over many growing seasons.  However, he also conspicuously selected and compared vines of different berry size, weight, and growth patterns.  Individual cuttings from different mother vines were grafted onto new rootstock, compared for many more years’ observation, made into individual, small lots of wine, and taste tested by experts in Beaune.  Simultaneously, the same cuttings were cataloged by the ENTAV (Etablissment nationale technique pour l’amelioration de la viticulture), a government agency.  When stars aligned and a particular selection’s yield, consistency, flavors, color, and disease-free status coincided, the first Dijon clones were born.

Around the same time, in California, Harold Olmo, a plant geneticist, began to collect, catalog, and follow budwood from local heritage vines.  He compared his findings with European cuttings he imported himself.  Meanwhile, in the early 1950’s, fearing the devastation of foreign vine blight, the US Department of Agriculture banned importing “uncontrolled” plant material without permits  This forced the government and the University of California to collaborate in the Foundation Plant Materials Service (FPMS), i.e. the “clean stock program.”  The FPMS (now the Foundation Plant Services- FPS) remains the predominant legal vehicle for introducing European vine cuttings into United States vineyards.  It catalogs its ENTAV-sanctioned French clones with confusing, nonconsecutive three digit designations like UCD 113, 114, 115, 667, 777, and 828.  In California, UCD/ Dijon clone 115 is the most widely planted, lauded for its perfume, brilliance, consistency and completeness.  Clones 667, 777, and 828 are favored for concentrated flavors, intensity, and depth.

In the 1970’s, Francis Mahoney of Carneros Creek Winery established a controlled study pitting 11 FPMS clones against budwood from 9 respected, California pinot producers.  After 10 years of investigation and comparison, 7 of 20 selections reigned supreme - 5 were UCD “clean stock” selections and the other two hailed from famed Chalone and Swan vineyards.  The “Chalone” and “Swan” clones now have UCD numbers too, like the others.  And this is just part of the story!

Zikes!  What’s a grower to do?  There now exists a dizzying array of numbers, uh I mean plants, to select and cultivate.  Yet pinot is a genetic chameleon that always changes its stripes; over 1000 clones a.k.a. phenotypes a.k.a. variants of Vitis Vinifera ‘Pinot noir’ are known to exist in Burgundy alone.  Presumably, each particular variant is a product of natural selection: molded, mutated, and genetically nudged by the distinct variables of microclimate and soil composition.  What is to say that 3 or 7 or 20 years from now the Dijon 115 in my backyard is still genetically identical to your Dijon 115 across the state?  Is this the gout de terroir? Or is it just hokey B.S. and voodoo?  Most grape growers insist a good site with well drained soil trumps clone anyway.

On the side of our palate, however, our tastebuds tell a different story.  In fact our winemaker, Chris Nelson, had this to say, “115 is creamy with mid palate weight while 667 shows more tannin and structure.   777 is aromatic and fruit forward compared to the Swan clone which is floral and elegant.”  He insists that overriding traits do exist among certain pinot clones but concedes that grapes grow differently in different places.

Shiftier still, compare these above the board plant genetics to the darker, unpoliced, clandestine underbelly of the business: “suitcase” clones.  In the U.S., certain pinot obsessed producers believe that making superior Burgundy-styled wine demands top rate budwood from Burgundy.  Thus begins an oral tradition of grape lore involving certain California winemakers scoffing in the face of the USDA and importing prized French vine cuttings themselves- often procured/ snatched from the top rated wine producers in Burgundy.  (Ironically, as you now know, building a vineyard from a pile of discarded plant cuttings from yesteday’s pruning in La Tache isn’t even clonal selection!  It’s technically a field selection, advancing a vineyard from lots of different “mother” vines.  But never mind that).  Nonetheless, tales of folks smuggling back cuttings from La Tache or Domaine Romanee-Conti in their underpants abound.  Most folks in Burgundy didn’t seem to mind until cocky California growers advertised the origins of their personal “clonal selections” too loudly, too proudly, and too often.  Fearing their pedigreed plants would lose cred if California flaunted parallel wares, the French appellation nomenclature institutions cried, “Mon Dieu! C’est unfair! This violates our intellectual property laws!”  So now, these fabled California cowboys are more circumspect and thoughtful when asked “Mary Mary quite contrary, how does your pinot clone grow?”

Sourced from North American PInot Noir, John Winthrop Haeger, University of California Press, 2004.

First an update:  For some reason, some of you did not receive our Monday e-mail.  If you didn’t get it, you missed Kerith’s second fabulous cooking demonstration.  You can check it out by clicking here. 

Now, on with our story:

So far we’ve spent quite a bit of time telling you about the Anderson Valley.  We’re now going to shift gears and begin a discussion of our second source of grapes, the Santa Lucia Highlands.

The Santa Lucia Highlands AVA (apparently pronounced Lu-see-ya, not Lu-chee-ya, as I just learned after five years of mispronunciation) is located about 30 minutes east of Monterrey, CA, on the east side of the Santa Lucia Mountain Range.  The AVA is approximately 13 miles long and encompasses approximately 5,500 acres of grapes, all of which grow on the southeastern facing side of the mountains, overlooking the Salinas River Valley.  The vineyards are scattered along varying elevations above the valley floor, protected by the mountains from the ocean’s temperature shifts, yet still benefiting from the cooling effects of ocean fog and ocean breezes.  The resulting climate is ideal for pinot noir and chardonnay.

Over the past ten years, the Santa Lucia Highlands has become world renowned for its pinot noir, largely due to the effort of two men, Gary Franscioni and Gary Pisoni.  In 1997 the two partnered to create the famed Garys’ Vineyard which has become a go-to source of top quality pinot noir grapes for many producers.  You’re probably familiar with their “side ventures”.  Franscioni is the proprietor of Roar Wines and also owns Santa Lucia Highland’s other famous grape source, Rosella’s Vineyard.  Pisoni is the owner of the equally formidable Pisoni Vineyards.  If you’re looking for an explosive wine that exemplifies this area, you won’t go wrong with anything these men produce.  Our other favorites are the offerings from Loring Wines which specializes in a number of boutique, single vineyard pinot noirs, including Garys’ and Rosella’s.

When we learned that we could make wine for our launch sourcing fruit from the Santa Lucia Highlands, we jumped at the chance.  You see, the Santa Lucia Highlands grapes ignited our love affair with pinot noir in the first place.  Up until about five years ago (ah, callow youth), we were all about the big, bad ass Napa cabs.  Then, on a fateful winter trip to Napa, we visited Miner Family Vineyards and, whether by luck, divine intervention, or the fact that it was pouring rain and the tasting room was empty, we were invited into their wine cave to barrel sample their wines.  I don’t remember every wine we tried, but I do remember the moment I first had their Garys’ Pinot Noir.  It was an absolute revelation for two devoted cabernet drinkers, and it changed everything.  We’re still “aging” most of the cabernet sauvignon we had purchased prior to that fateful day in Napa, but our wine fridge dedicated to pinot noir has now been filled and consumed more times than I care to admit.  While our pinot palate and our appreciation for its unique geographic qualities and differences have expanded over the years, the Santa Lucia Highlands will always remain our first pinot love and opening a bottle of Garys’ always seems like a homecoming.

So, what’s to look forward to with the Bruliam Santa Lucia Highlands Pinot Noir?  Pinots from this AVA are usually darker and denser than their Burgundian cousins.  That’s not to say that they are heavy or without finesse, but they tend to have a little bit of tannin, a lot of dark fruit, and great leather and smoke on the nose.  There is absolutely no mistaking a well made Santa Lucia Highlands pinot noir, even if you are a novice wine drinker.  The contrast to our Anderson Valley pinot, which will be lighter and brighter, will be dramatic and should make side-by-side tastings a real blast.

We’re sourcing our 2008 Santa Lucia Highlands pinot grapes from Doctor’s Vineyard (have you noticed yet how everyone in this AVA is big into the apostrophe??).  Doctor’s is located toward the southern end of the AVA, roughly between Garys’ to the north in the mid-valley and Pisoni at the far southern end.  The more southern placement of our vineyard will mean warmer temperatures, resulting in the bigger, bolder taste that we’re aiming for in this wine.  Doctor’s has 243 acres of fruit, including eleven different pinot clones (clones will be a topic covered in more detail in a future post).  One of those clones comes from Calera Wines (another favorite) which, apparently/never confirmed/only rumored/please don’t sue us, was sourced from vine clippings “borrowed” many years ago from Domaine de la Romanee- Conti, the most famous pinot noir producer in Burgundy.  If you want to learn more about our grape source, there is a great short video on Doctor’s Vineyard on the Crushpad website that you can access by clicking here.

We’re super excited to have access to grapes from this great vineyard and can’t wait to share our wine with you.

I am a fairly conservative individual and generally, a rule-follower.  I stop at stop signs, am timely with federal and state taxes, abide by our neighborhood noise ordinance, and use commas with great care.  As both a wine and grammar aficionado, I read the following tidbit with great interest, “Note that in general the names of grape varieties are capitalized,” (excerpted from the UCD syllabus for the Introduction to Winemaking, Viticulture and Enology 3).  Despite a college degree in English, this oeno-grammar rule is new to me.  While Pinot noir (their caps, not mine) is fundamental to our business plan and central to our personal enjoyment, “Pinot noir” (again their grammar rule) pales in proximity to other legitimate, proper nouns.  Mount Kilimanjaro, First Street, San Diego Padres - all caps to be sure.  President Bush - even if you don’t like him, he’s still our leader.  Burgundy, France.  Yup, both places, caps all around.  But Pinot noir?  A true proper noun?  This requires further evaluation. 

I can understand the capitalization of grape varietals when part of a bonafide title, as in The 2004 Robert Mondavi Carneros Chardonnay.  But what about, “I prefer my chardonnay unoaked?”  The difference is akin to capitalizing the word “mayor” when it precedes a gal’s name versus its use in a general context.  For instance, we capitalize here: “Mayor Jerry Sanders has a difficult job.”  But not here:  “Kris Curran is so central to the evolution of cult, California Pinot noir that she is its unofficial mayor.”  But apparently, I am wrong.

 Confused, I consulted the famed Little Brown Handbook.  In no explanation did grape varietals conform to any criterion for proper nouns.  While Bruliam Wines, a trade name, is, of course, capitalized, “wine’s fall harvest” is not (unless it is the title of a book, unbeknownst to me).  Pinot noir may be difficult, trying, tough, willful, and capricious, but these are actually descriptors of a rigorous viticultural process, not categories of the Playboy Girls Next Door.  Although attributing human foibles to Pinot noir’s notorious “personality” constitutes a goofy, oeno-lit tradition, it is a stretch to equivocate grape varietals with race or nationality (i.e. Caucasian, American Eskimo, or German).  So is Pinot noir really a proper noun?  How often is “in general” a means to a capitalized end?

I have since e-mailed the famed grammar girl for her explanation of this thorny grammatical dilemma and still eagerly await her response.  Meanwhile, I solicit help from you, gentle readers.

Sometimes when I taste wine, especially in the company of either wine lovers or accomplished sommeliers, I have a gut-wrenching, anxiety-provoking moment of deja-vu that transports me back to my third year of medical school.  In that particular, humiliating instance, I failed to recognize what was arguably the world’s loudest heart murmur.  (To be sure, this should have been the first red flag that I belonged in pathology, but that is another post altogether!).  As the star regurgitator of all medical minutiae, I was tested, and failed, when the cardiology professor incorrectly presumed I possessed a modicum of aptitude with my stethoscope.  Before a medical posse that included my professor, sundry residents, fellow medical students, and the patient himself, I reluctantly listened to the guy’s ticker, as the professor prodded, “So, what do you hear?”  I panicked, groped for words, hemmed, hawed, and hedged.  Finally, since his heart sounded entirely normal to me, I meekly proffered a squeaky, “a fib?”  

“What?!” the cardiologist yelped.  “You can’t hear that machine gun roooar?  It’s like a Boeing 747 landing in the jungle- a jack hammer.  You don’t even need a stethoscope to hear that ‘lub-groosh, lub-groosh, lub-groosh.’” 

That dreadful moment of humiliation has indelibly remained and now recurs sporadically at wine tastings.  I savor a swallow only to be faced with that same, expectant look, followed by the inevitable, “So, what did you taste?”  I fear I might let my drinking companions down, or worse, yet, fail altogether.  They’ll realize I’m a phony, and I’ll be demoted to Red Lobster and Sizzler for life.  So I start slowly and build to a crescendo, “Pears?  Ripe tropical fruit, for sure.  Star anise?  Definitely red fruit.  A hint of tobacco?  Maybe some leather?”  Exasperated, I offer, “Violets??!”

I had actually used “pear” as a descriptor so often that it became an ongoing joke with Brian.  I’d sample scallop, a Vietnamese spring roll, or my kids’ mac and cheese, only to be taunted with, “Does that taste like pear, too?”  All in good fun, he says.  And, of course, gentle readers, I recount my own angst because with wine there is no right answer.  I might love it, and you’ll think it’s swill.  But don’t fret; it’s just a beverage.  Instead keep drinking, trying, tasting, pairing and experimenting.  What elevates your filet to carnivorous ecstasy may taste rotten with asparagus, a hardboiled egg , or a mocha Frapuccino.  Just trust yourself, or better yet, your sommelier!

Initially, we planned to devote two blog posts to the Anderson Valley and then move on to our second source of grapes for the 2008 vintage, the Santa Lucia Highlands AVA.  But something interesting happened after last week’s post, and I thought it warranted a little examination.

As you may recall, I introduced the Anderson Valley to you last week and included a brief overview of some of its wineries.  I mentioned Londer and Elke as two of our favorites, and I told you that Goldeneye was the biggest pinot name in the valley, but personally I found their wine to be “strangely over-oaked (almost distractingly so)”.

Now I’m Internet-savvy enough to know that we aren’t operating in a vacuum and that whatever we write on this site is open to anyone and everyone.  But, you can imagine my surprise (and the “Oh Shit” moment) when 4 hours after that post went live, I was greeted with an e-mail from a very senior person at Goldeneye.

Coming from a corporate background, my first thought before I dared to open the message was, “OK, this was fun.  And now it is over.”  I envisioned the numerous small tech companies who wake up one morning to find that Google or Microsoft has just moved into their market niche, throwing their mighty influence and dollars into making life miserable for the scrappy start-up and ending their existence before it really begins.  However, in this case it is even worse.  I’m such a moron that I inadvertently badmouthed (albeit mildly) the biggest player in the region and stirred the sleeping giant.  Bottom line - they’re going to destroy us before we’ve managed to press the juice from a single grape.

Selfishly, my second thought was, “Wow, someone important from a big established company read what we wrote and felt compelled to actually reply.”  That itself is quite an amazing thing and speaks to both the reach and the power of the Internet.  Because what we write on these pages is open to anyone and everyone, our voice has some degree of influence, despite the fact that we don’t know what the heck we’re talking about most of the time.  Cool!

With that mix of trepidation and excitement, I opened the e-mail.  Much to my delight it was a very pleasant note congratulating us on our venture.  The author explained some of their wine making techniques that result in their unique structure, taste, and nose, and he invited us to come visit and barrel sample their wines to get a better appreciation of what they’re doing at Goldeneye.  My response:  I’m very very very sorry; thank you for not destroying us, and with regard to barrel tasting, uh, yeah I think we can manage that… 

And, get this: he invited us to join the Anderson Valley Winegrowers Association!  Now, it may well be that anybody can join the AVWA, but I think it is pretty awesome that a couple of knuckleheads like us would be invited to join just about anything that includes legitimate winemakers.  Needless to say, we’re going to take him up that invitation.  Out of appreciation (and relief), we also went out to our local wine store and picked up a bottle of Goldeneye’s sister label, Migration, which we enjoyed tremendously (Migration is a pinot blended from multiple vineyards in Anderson Valley).

So, what does this teach us about the Internet?  I guess the more we mildly badmouth people on this site the more cool stuff we’ll get.  Hmmm, I wonder how I can teach the kids that lesson.

Finally, in the good-natured spirit this site is intended (and because I simply can’t help myself), I thought it would be fun to hold a little contest.  There is something a little strange about the name Anderson Valley Winegrowers Association.  Can you spot it?  Whoever posts the first correct answer in the comments section of this post will win a signed bottle of our 2008 Anderson Valley pinot upon its release. 

If you’re reading this in your e-mail, you can click here, scroll to the bottom of the post and add your comment.  If you’re reading this post on the site, simply click on the word Comments immediately below in red. 

Good luck.

UPDATE 7/18/08:  As you can see from the comments section, we have our winner.  Thanks to everyone who clicked through to participate.  Don’t worry, I’m sure that we’ll have plenty of more opportunities to give away wine while poking fun at third parties!

This week I wanted to follow-up Brian’s introduction to the Anderson Valley with a few more didactic tidbits and reiterate our excitement at harvesting fruit from this fascinating region.  Anderson Valley is known as one of the “cooler” regions for growing pinot, which may or may not spark an “ah-ha!” amongst our geekiest readership.  As you know, cool temperatures, particularly pre-harvest low minimum temperatures, are cherished for developing bright fruit flavors and high acid.  Since acid and structure go hand in hand, we can expect Anderson Valley’s overnight lows in the 50’s to enhance all aspects of our finished wine.  High diurnal temperature variations, with daytime highs in the low 90’s and overnight lows in the 50’s, allow grapes to fully ripen without sacrificing acid.

A self-proclaimed “quirky” region, once populated with aging hippies dissatisfied by the grind and chaos of urban life, the area ironically now commands top dollar for land, with prices nearly commiserate with top notch Northern California real estate.  Staunchly anti-development and relishing its relative isolation, the Anderson Valley has few restaurants and even fewer hotels.  But even this won’t stop us from sneaking over to heavy hitters like Goldeneye to try to talk our way into barrel tasting and some free education. 

Xenophobic reputation aside, I think the Anderson Valley has grown more mainstream than its residents want to believe.  Indeed the Anderson Valley was prominently featured on the cover of the June 15 Wine Spectator.  Just reading about their elegant wines with juicy, berry flavors and supple, velvety mouth feel accelerates my anticipation of our 2008 harvest.  In fact, we’ve really enjoyed the Londer pinot which was specifically mentioned in the article.  We stumbled upon that same wine rather serendipitously at out neighborhood grocery store a few months ago.  One Friday evening, we sampled a panoply of Anderson Valley pinots as “due diligence” for our vineyard selection.  Super-ego be damned, I imbibed indulgently knowing a marathon training run loomed in my future, just hours away, early (too early) Saturday morning.  And I happily report that despite multiple restroom stops for a churning stomach and spastic colon, coupled with waking a handful of unsuspecting homeless people seeking shelter in a foul, public john, my impression of the Londer pinot remains unsullied.  I guess the bottom line is that excessive pinot, sushi and early morning long runs are an unsavory combination.  (How did we get from Wine Spectator to bathrooms again?)

Half of our 2008 pinot noir production will come from California’s Anderson Valley.  Never heard of Anderson Valley?  Don’t worry, neither had we until a couple of years ago.

Anderson Valley is located in Mendocino County, 100 miles north of San Francisco.  The valley is about 15 miles long and follows the path of the Navarro River to the Pacific Ocean.  From a grape-growing perspective, Anderson Valley is about as cold of a climate as you can get.  However the river running through the valley tempers the climate at the valley floor and creates ideal growing conditions for premium cold-weather grapes, notably pinot noir and chardonnay.  Anderson Valley has a long and colorful history chalk full of gold prospectors, prohibition era shenanigans, and failed wine making exploits.  But when Louis Roederer decided to stake its sparkling wine facility there in 1982, Anderson Valley was thrust into the wine making spotlight.  For an extensive history of Anderson Valley you can click here.

While you may not think you are familiar with Anderson Valley, many of the wine producers you do know have been sourcing grapes here for some time:  Cakebread, Duckhorn, Leal, Husch, and others.  The best known home-grown producers actually make sparkling wines - Roederer Estate and Scharffenberger Cellars.  Both take advantage of the near perfect growing conditions for chardonnay and pinot noir to craft their “California Champagne”.

If you’re looking to try some Anderson Valley pinots to whet your appetite for Bruliam’s upcoming offering, we have a couple of recommendations.  Our favorite is Londer.  Their Anderson Valley pinot noir is an excellent every-day pinot, and their Paraboll pinot noir is quite exceptional.  Another favorite is Elke which produces two great pinots as well as a rose of pinot noir which even I enjoyed greatly.  Probably the biggest name in the valley is Goldeneye, which is owned and operated by Duckhorn.  Personally, I found their pinots to be strangely over-oaked (almost distractingly so), but I also know that these wines are quite popular.

For 2008, we’re sourcing our grapes from the Annahala Vineyard in Anderson Valley.  Annahala is a 60-acre site located about mid-way between the two main towns in Anderson Valley, Philo and Boonville.  The vineyard is managed by Premier Pacific Vineyards, one of the largest and most well respected vineyard managers in the business.  To see a marketing piece on the vineyard from PPV, click here.

Our wine making plan for our 2008 Anderson Valley Pinot Noir employs a Burgundian approach - natural yeast, minimal oak, minimal intervention, and hopefully whole cluster fermentation.  We’ll strive for a light, elegant, silky pinot with a nose of brighter red fruits and solid earthiness.

Coming up:  Part 2, Kerith’s take on Anderson Valley.

…after learning the superstar vineyards of our precious Santa Lucia Highlands AVA have dropped from 90+ to 80-point plots of dirt…

And here it is, in its great, oversized, glossy glory, (sound trumpets) presenting “Wine Spectator,” May 31, 2008.  Wine Spectator gods, we humbly kneel at your feet and burn candles and incense in your honor (cue the harps and angelic chorus).   We pay homage to your keen noses and palates whenever we hit the bathroom, as your latest and greatest publication reigns high from our favorite toilet tank (under our kids’ Dora the Explorer plastic “potty seat”).  And there, on page 124, the newly published tasting notes on our favorite Santa Lucia Highlands Garys’ and Rosella’s Vineyard wines.  Look; it’s the Loring and Siduri 2006 vintages, “graded” (what??!!) 86 and 85 points.  Hmmmmmm (dramatic pause).  Disconcerting.  What to say, what to say?

Now whether or not one agrees with the supreme authority and power of Robert Parker’s or Wine Spec’s grading system is an audacious and contentious topic for another debate.  That said, these tasting notes come from wine authorities with palates and wine experiences much broader and more discerning than my own.  So, if our 2008 pinot noir from Santa Lucia Highlands were expertly described as “medium-bodied, with sour cherry and berry flavors and a whiff of tar and mineral, giving this a complex range of flavors,” well I’d be pretty psyched.  In fact, I’d open that cherry-berry wonder of enology and drink it with dinner tonight!  (FYI: that was in fact the descriptor for Loring Pinot Noir Santa Lucia Highlands Garys’ Vineyard 2006).  Clearly you can’t bank everything on a number, whether 99 or 79.  Exuberance undampened, we press onwards with our journey.

A number of the questions we’ve been getting since launching this blog have been about our wine knowledge.  In sum, they can be boiled down to, “how do you guys know so much about wine?”

The answer to that question is: we don’t. 

Frankly, the amount of wine knowledge we don’t possess would fill volumes.  The words “wine”, “expert”, and “Overstreet” should only be uttered in reference to Dennis Overstreet (no relation, unfortunately), proprietor of the Wine Merchant shop in L.A. and author of Overstreet’s New Wine Guide.

That said, anytime anyone has asked me how to go about learning more about wine, I offer the following three pieces of advice:

Taste - there is absolutely no substitute for tasting in order to learn about wine.  Where I think a lot of people go off the rails is that they feel they need to learn the difference between good wine and bad wine.  That’s not the point.  The point to tasting wine is to learn what you like and what you don’t like.  Kerith and I happen to prefer lighter wines - Pinots, Sauvignon Blancs, Rieslings, etc.  We came to that understanding only after tasting our way though a myriad of other wines.  We still appreciate and enjoy other heavier wines but if you put us on a desert island with only one wine choice, it would be Pinot.  Once you establish what you like and dislike about certain types of wines, you can really begin to pinpoint your preferences and understand what makes “good wine” and “bad wine” for you.  Only you can figure this out and the only way to figure it out is to start tasting.

Read - this is an area where a wine novice can get overwhelmed.  There is so much information out there on wines, especially now with this newfangled thing the kids are calling the Internet.  The point to reading, like tasting, is not to learn what someone else thinks is a good or bad wine.  The point to reading about wine is to start to expand you scope of experience.  If you like a certain type of wine, you may learn through a good wine book or magazine about that varietal being grown in other parts of the world or alternative varietals that are comparable.  I always recommend one place to start the wine reading process - the Wall Street Journal.  Yes, that’s right, the Wall Street Journal.  Tucked in between the stock charts and the daily headlines about the subprime mortgage mess, the husband and wife team of Dorothy Gaiter and John Brecher write their Tastings column that appears in the Friday edition (they also have a Wine Notes column in the  Saturday edition).  Their approach to wine and wine reviewing is open and engaging and they never assign any of those annoying numbered scores to a wine (I still don’t know what the difference between a 91 point wine and a 93 point wine is!)  Instead, every week they examine a particular type of wine (inexpensive American Chardonnay, for example) and taste a large number of them to give readers a sense of the overall quality of the wine type and what readers should be looking for on the shelf.  I think their column is worth the price of a Wall Street Journal subscription alone, but if you’re scared off by all that financial mumbo-jumbo, plunk down $1 this Friday and read their column in the “D” section.  You may be hooked.

Travel - when we say that Wine Is Elemental, we mean it!  Our best wine experiences have transpired during trips to wine producing regions of the world.  We’re obviously quite lucky to live in California with Napa, Sonoma, SLH, Santa Barbara, Anderson Valley, etc., but every state in the nation now produces wine (yes, even Hawaii and Alaska).  Visiting a winery, meeting the people behind the wine, learning about the production process, and building your own personal memory around a particular wine with a loved one is really what wine and wine education is all about.

Don’t Stop Learning - hmmm, I guess that’s four points.  I’ll readily admit to knowing next to nothing about the wide world of wine.  My expertise on French wines, in particular, is embarrassing.  But one of the joys of wine is that there is always an opportunity to learn and taste new things.  Just this past week we saw a Syrah Rose by the glass on a wine list in La Jolla.  Having never tried one, we gave it a shot.  It wasn’t much to my liking, but Kerith thought it was bright and summery.  

And that’s the beauty of wine.  It is an immensely personal and at the same time communal experience.  It is worth putting in the effort to learn what you enjoy about wine. 

And remember to always be open to new wines - you never know what those whacky winemakers may have up their sleeves!

I have a good to awesome memory.  I can read textbooks and regurgitate information verbatim.  I’m able to remember where I have read arcane bits of text and picture those parts of a page in my mind’s eye.  Brian jokes that I can bend spoons with my tremendous memory. 

Just days before our first meeting with our winemaker, Chris Nelson, I completed James Halliday’s and Hugh Johnson’s The Art and Science of Wine.  Textbook in mind, I thought that I had a pretty decent understanding of what I theoretically wanted to do with our disparate batches of grapes.  In fact, I like to think that I surprised Chris with my spiffy wine jargon, apparent technical prowess, and forthrightness.  But beneath the veneer, I am 100% poser.  I am that nerdy kid in school who knows every statistic about every MLB player but can’t swing a bat, let alone play on the team.  Obviously, I have never done any of this “wine stuff” before, and everything I pretend to know derives from a single textbook.  After spewing a river of scientific verbiage and wildly nodding my head in response to numbered yeast cultures, I reluctantly let Chris do his job (”Brian, what do you mean that I always try to lead when we dance?”). 

In this video clip, you’ll see our winemaker, Chris Nelson, discussing our wine plan.  CrushPad is a working winery, and the noise you hear in the background during the first minute is the bottling machine hard at work.

 
If you can’t see the video in the box above, you can click here to view it.

I think Chris is terrific.  He comes from a science background, too, having worked in a lab before returning to school for an enology degree.  This appeals to me.  Now I am only halfway bossy, at least today.

First, some housekeeping:  the video link failed to embed in our last e-mail.  If you want to see the video of our production facility at CrushPad, please click here.

Now, on with the story:

Passion comes from within, and that enthusiasm is contagious.  Extrapolating our wine tasting gusto, we knew we needed to emulate and pay homage to the wines we routinely and happily imbibe.  While it would be fun to create “special occasion” wines, the sort that ignite marriage proposals, accompany 50 year anniversaries, or toast the safe return of a child from an overseas tour, we truly aspire to craft a great wine that you can drink right now (unless you can wait until dinner). 

So what makes our mouths water?  On one hand we really dig juicy, ripe California-style pinots.  A scrumptious mix of bright berry mingled with sweet cigar smoke, leather and exotic spice can elevate the humblest takeout food to something stellar.  In this vein, we recounted some (but by no means all of the) great California pinot producers we love: Loring, Siduri, and Miner Family wines with fruit from Garys’ and Rosella’s vineyards.  These are the masters and wine icons driving half our pinot equation, leading us to the Santa Lucia Highlands for our first vineyard selection. 

On the other hand, sometimes we crave something in a “Burgundian” vein, with funky earth (fondly misclassified as “barnyard” and “manure”) or mushroom aromatics, maybe something lighter and more subtle.  Imagine a wine alluring and complex enough to seduce you with a whisper instead of a shout.  For this, we needed a growing region that showcased different pinot styles, so we could foist our wine ideal (”da bomb“) onto some awesome fruit.  True to form, Anderson Valley pinots run the gamut from bold and well-oaked to distinctly earthier sensibilities.  Thus the GGS led us to two very distinct and different California growing regions: the Anderson Valley and the Santa Lucia Highlands.  And so we begin.

Yes, we felt the bewilderment in your posted comments and heard the gasps through your text.  And, to answer the $6 million question, no we did not buy a vineyard or winery.

But, our wine isn’t a bottle of generic house red with a “Bruliam” label slapped on it either.  In fact, the production of many wines today, especially small yield, highly exalted, hard-to-get “cult” wines, is partially or fully outsourced. 

Either: i) a grape grower borrows/leases wine making equipment from a production facility (a winery) to turn his grapes into wine; ii) a wine producer (a vintner) buys grapes from a grower and uses his own equipment to make wine; or iii) a third party both buys grapes from a grower and borrows/leases equipment from a winery to make wine.  From 2 Buck Chuck up the ladder of wine evolution to the most acclaimed Bordeaux style blend, this is how much of the wine you buy and drink is made. 

Bruliam falls into the third category.  We are both buying grapes and leasing production facilities.  Even with this mostly outsourced approach, the feasibility of our business plan would be impossible without a San Francisco company called CrushPad.  CrushPad enables both individuals and business to produce wine for either personal consumption or commercial sale.  In addition to helping source grapes and overseeing wine production, they handle all of the legal and commercial nuts and bolts (licensing, fulfillment, storage, etc.).  This includes mundane things like storing all of our 600 bottles in a temperature controlled facility and more technical ones like ensuring the “warning” edict and sulfite verbage on our label is to standard.

You can see a short video of our production facilities here:

If you can’t see the video in the box above, you can click here to view it.

OK, so I’m no Scorsese.

But the question remains - if all of the grunt work is outsourced, what do we do?  We have a two-tiered role in this process.  Our first and most fundamental job is to envision the pinot of our dreams and ensure that all of the 40+ wine-making steps/decisions work in harmony to deliver that perfect libation.  Our secondary job (which is probably the most important job of any winemaker) is to market, market, market and sell, sell, sell! 

In future entries look for us to wax poetic about our desired wine style and why we think pinot is da bomb (yeah, I said it).  But we’ll also try to show you how we’ll get from dreamy, poetic yearnings to actual juice in the bottle. 

As for our second role, you’re reading this aren’t you?

Of course, we all know that wine comes from grapes.  And grapes come from farmers, right?  So this leads me to my first wine-making hurdle: I am not a farmer.  Thus our first, big, “wine-maker” dilemma centered around finding great grapes.  We knew pinot noir was our passion, which narrowed us down to 60 plus California clones, planted amongst innumerable vineyards, within multiple AVA’s.  Huh? 

To initiate the Great Grape Search (hereafter known as GGS), we conducted rigorous due diligence with double blind, placebo controlled trials of imbibition (sort of).  We tasted a panoply of pinot, from different vineyards, in geographically unique regions of California.  With great perseverance, we tried to qualify the characteristic we loved in our wines.  Which wines did we want to emulate?  What flavor profiles tickled our palate?  Who knew “science” could be so awesome?

Now anyone who has been immersed in the pop culture of pinot knows that the pinot noir grape has been described as persnickety, temperamental, elusive, finicky, unstable, fussy, pertinacious, and willful.  More bald Britney than debutante, this is not a grape for a long term relationship.  This highly anthropomorphized vitis vinifera is sensitive to too much sun, too little sun, rot, rain, temperature flux, and innumerable other uncontrollable forces of Mother Nature.  And once again I reiterate: I am not a farmer.

We perseverated, poured over Excel spreadsheets, explored powerful, theoretical what-ifs (although nothing would really help us in the event of a massive flood or fire, now would it?), and after much indecision, we ultimately made a great leap of faith.

“Bruliam” is an amalgamation of our three kids’ names.  Our tag line, “wine is elemental,” is a play on “Bruliam’s” sounding so much like Polonium or Cadmium, elements on the periodic table.  But as it turns out, the words “wine is elemental” pretty well summarize our personal philosophy about wine.  We drink wine with dinner nearly everyday (sometimes even before dinner, but that is another story).  We took wine to the hospital when our kids were born.  Drops of wine from our pinky fingers were the first thing they tasted, even before I started nursing.  We drink mediocre wine and great wine; in a pinch, we drink boxed wine.  We constantly taste test new wineries and grape varietals we’ve never heard of before.  Enjoying wine and food is simply part of our daily routine.

While reading Marq de Villiers’ The Heartbreak Grape, A California Winemaker’s Search for the Perfect Pinot Noir, I came across a passage that perfectly captures our “wine is elemental” philosophy.  He says, “The vine, I thought, might be humble, but wine is not humble at all.  Wine has almost infinite variety and complexity, an ability at once to surprise and overwhelm the most sophisticated palate and to give simple pleasure to millions of people.  Wine is international, virtually universal, with a history almost as old as man, with its own litany and lore, with its own poetics of sensation, with its own rituals …and craft.”

Cheers!