30 Days in République française: Prelude (or: the one with lots of words and very few pictures)

Before diving in, I suggest you read my series of blog posts in concert with Greg's (http://questwine.blogspot.com/). His entries and pictures essentially act as an alternate angle to my experience in the country.


A worried, nervous wreck.... Anxious, frustrated, and deprived of sleep... Death-gripping my passport, a stack of laserjetted bus, plane, and hotel reservations, and heavily encumbered by backpacks, suitcases, and laptop caddies... Seat-dancing on the concrete bench, awaiting the Wisconsin Shuttle with service from General Mitchell International Airport to my 2nd objective of the morning: O'Hare Terminal 2.

For the record, I've never once missed, or been late for a flight in the past 6 or 7 years. Not one. And I don't intend to. I'm adept at handling a moderate variety of stressors, but potential travel mishaps aren't in the cards. I suppose I'm the stereotypical nervous traveler--arriving 4 hours before boarding, printing back-ups of travel documents, strategically executing morning-of outfit decisions to maximize a smooth and grope-free odyssey through the TSA check-point... You name it, I do it. Mind you, the majority of this is internalized, and I tend to think I look calm and collected while sailing through the terminals. Additionally, I'm not this anal when it comes to domestic travel--anymore, at least. Ultimately, there was just no damned way I was going to allow any hiccups to affect the carefully choreographed arrival to France (keeping in mind the SLEW of appointments and activities we had planned).

Arrival at O'Hare was prompt and painless, much to my satisfaction. Terminal 2, however, is a pox, nay, a black hole upon the spirit, carelessly clutching at every fleeting shred of human happiness in a horrific tornado of matter-stretching destruction. Crowded, loud, smelly, bereft of ample seating, lacking working wall outlets, and in possession of no Starbucks. A tragedy. Travesty, even... Without 5 shots of black tar espresso coursing through my veins in the morning, I become very irritable. Honestly, the caffeine probably doesn't help, since I'm just as irritable without it. But back to Terminal 2: for the unfamiliar, this pseudo-international terminal serves a ton of Canadian routes. In the most non-disrespectful form that can be mustered, French Canadians are ornery choads while at airport terminals at 7:00am. You loved laughing at my funny American face, awash in a blank inquisitiveness most certainly induced by my weak grasp of your language... I know I looked like a puppy turning its head to the side when it heard its owner saying something weird. Give me a chance next time! I can't process your evil slur talk as quickly as you'd like. Los rudos. BUT ALAS, it was finally time to board my first flight of the day: ORD-->YUL.

Gaze upon the beauty!

Montreal-Trudeau is mammoth. The walk to customs took close to 10 minutes without the luxury of moving walkways. Additionally, customs was jam-packed with passengers whose final destination was Montreal. This scared the living shit out of me. I was in no way pressed for time, but the thought of having to impatiently wait within the crowded confines of 5 kilometers of velvet rope, loaded with 500 or more restless travelers, necks still aching from the 9 hour trans-Atlantic plane ride, was enough to induce some serious fear. Thankfully, the nondescript, non-Canadian/International customs line only had about 5 or 6 patrons and was moving very quickly. It was just off to the side and almost out of sight. It was also here that I met a nice guy from Chicago on a journey to the DR Congo to adopt a child. Traveling by himself, no less--apparently the wife was at home taking care of the other adopted little ones. His nobility and purpose was pretty commendable, and made me briefly reflect on the excess that my trip undoubtedly had in store. Sure, I was going to dramatically better my wine education and industry exposure, but also going to party like a wild fuckin' chupacabra on a fattened goat farm in Santa Fe. Shit was going to be ill. #Based, even. Anyhow, this fellow and I made a few more pleasantries and went our separate ways for the next terminal wait.

Oh god, oh god...

Flash forward another 4 hours, and I was finally boarding Air Canada #870 to Paris-Charles De Gaulle. Being impatient and all, I'd rudely jumped over half of the economy boarding line, practiced hurried "bonjour's" and "merci beaucoup's" with the gate agent, and finally found my seat--in a 4-person row with only one other passenger on the other end, no less. Once airborne, I'd loaded up Tron: Legacy on the glitched-out entertainment system, enjoyed about 4000 calories worth of appetizers, main courses, desserts, post-desserts, pre-breakfasts, and snacky-poos, guzzled a few mini bottles of La Petite Forge, and pretended to sleep! Save for a plane crash or Lost-style smoke monster event, I knew I'd be in Paris relatively soon!

Quality airplane drinkin'.

Up next: 5 Nights in Paris (or: how to convince yourself that 4 baguettes a day is a healthy alternative to vegetables and rice). Stay tuned...!

What I drank.

Some nice wines from last evening.

Hayman Hill 2007 Zinfandel; Clos du Bois 2007 Shiraz; Hogue 2008 Pinot Grigio.

And the star of the evening... Creme George.

The most legit homemade shit you ever done seen. Fresh whipped cream, sugar cookies, strawberries (with a touch of rum), shaved chocolate and shaved almonds. I was instructed to not photograph this epic creation. It demanded documentation.

Anyhow, 12 days until we depart for France! 30+ tasting appointments, tons of restaurants to hit up, freakin chocolate bars... Cannot wait!

California Touring, Part 3

Downtime was scarce during the weekend and Monday was no exception. After another relatively brief rest, our alarms sounded at 6:45am so we could amply prepare for the San Ramon->Healdsburg jaunt in morning traffic. I'd arranged to meet with Greg's boss in the prior weeks. Greg did the legwork of establishing a 10:30am rendezvous time.

We arrived at the winery right on the button and promptly began a full tour of the facility. The aging rooms were serene; stacked 3-high with French oak barrels in near darkness; the air slightly sticky with humidity and almost brisk in temperature; dead stillness.

A quick sitdown was then in order and we briefly talked business, opportunities for this year's harvest, and ribbed Greg's mastery of the "schlong" (part of the destemmer line, I believe). An all around productive and positive morning. A pour of Chardonnay was in order, and we were off to our next destination: Seghesio Family Winery.

Like a decent number of wineries in the area, Seghesio is an Italian-American owned and operated establishment that's been in business, like, forever--since 1895. It's kind of hard to imagine, but some of the same vines that produced grapes over 100 years ago are still bearing fruit today. Our tasting room attendant was exceptionally generous with the pours and off-list samplings, and like just about all of the staff we came across, eager to arrange a bottle trade with Greg. A sidenote on the goodwill exchanged between industry members: these people are all about generously taking care of their own. It's not just about free tastings or bottle discounts... the exchange of knowledge, stories, and all-around hospitality flows freely. A considerable contrast to the bullish, adversarial secretiveness of colleagues in the corporate world. Onward to the wines.

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The Seghesio tasting room.

Aging rooms right behind the tasting room counter.

Costiera 2009 Pinot Noir. Young but balanced and pretty tasty.

2009 Barbera. I can't recall what this tasted like... I suppose it's good that I distinctly remember having no issues with it.

2008 Cortina Zinfandel. One of the best Zins tasted on the trip. Note the lady in the background--and I wish I could have gotten a better picture of her, because she didn't have that face permanently--after answering about 10 calls in between pours, she briefly went up to the offices of the winery and returned in a state of near-hysterical happiness. Without hesitation, she informed us that she'd just scored Giants/Dodgers tickets for September--a game she's never gotten to go to before. Interestingly enough, that very series was taking place during the visit.

2008 Rockpile Zin. Another excellent example of California Zin. This was an off-list pour, scored thanks to Greg's hook-ups.

2005 Aglianico. A rare Italian varietal with a big, punchy flavor and mouth feel. Tannic and a bit sour when swallowed. This wine was awesome.

2005 Dionigia (Port-style). A really tasty Port-style that didn't cross the line into unbearably-sweet territory. Fortified only with neutral grape spirit... No Brandy up in there, son.

Bottle purchases were in order and we settled on the 2007 San Lorenzo Petite Sirah (not pictured above). Exceptional stuff.

Hunger pangs kicked in yet again, and Cousteaux French Bakery in downtown Healdsburg was the best candidate for our ails. We crushed some tasty sandwiches and decided on Ridge as the next winery.

Chances are you've seen Ridge's mass-market bottles at your favorite wine shops across the country. They're indeed a big producer, but still focused on quality and providing a gamut of price points. Their chemist Gerald, who's wife happens to work with Greg, happily came to the tasting room to not only pour for us, but give some incredible insights into Ridge's history, wine profiles, and some excellent tips for the upcoming France trip.

2009 Estate Chardonnay.

Like their American counterparts, French vintners are very open to sharing their wines, undoubtedly romantic vineyard stories, dinner tables, and even their homes for an overnight stay. Ones chances for getting such a treatment are greatly increased by bringing an American bottle to share (or a bottle of whatever origin the visitor is from). Gerry is a good friend of a French vintner we're visiting in June, and keyed us in on his favorite Ridge selections. We'll additionally be bringing as much Rochioli as possible for our kind hosts across the country.

There was only one more agenda item for the evening--seeing Queens of the Stone Age at the Fox Theater in Oakland. Or, "Oaksterdam," depending on what circles you run with. Geoff rejoined us for the hour-long BART ride from San Ramon to Oakland. We were just in time to catch most of the opening act's set. Nothing exceptionally great, but tolerable nonetheless. Queens took the stage promptly at 9:00pm and immediatley launched into their special set--playing their self-titled debut album from start to finish, (mostly) in order, and as closely as possible to the original recordings. Most of my favorite QotSA tracks are from this album and era, so it was an extra special treat. B-sides like The Bronze were also played, as well as a slew of newer songs after the main set was done. 3 encores... Good sh!t!

Entrance to the Fox Theater. Worth checking out for the amazing interior alone (imagine giant Buddhas and gold embellishments in a distinctly Oriental style all over the joint).

With the conclusion of the show came the conclusion of our overactive schedule. Tuesday was reserved for lounging around the house, serious trip research, a good load of blogging, In-n-Out Burger, Pasta Primavera, and the red-eye back to Milwaukee. An overall success by any reasonable measure.

Until next time I choose to post more than just pictures, au revoir!

California Touring, Part 2

Saturday's adventures in Sonoma county wrapped with a visit to the Richmond neighborhood of downtown San Francisco. After searching for parking on those ridiculously sloped streets for about 20 minutes, we made our way to JP's house--complete with fully-functional basement beer brewery--to consume some delicious pasta, meat sauce, deliciously dense and yeasty La Boulange French bread, homemade stout, and of course, the '93 and '05 Syrah's Greg plucked from Frick. Geoff employed his grandma's recipe for the red sauce--a totally new preparation from what I've been used to my entire life, and all-around excellent. No plate was left uncleaned. No child left behind.

The next stop was Club Deluxe on Haight St. for drinks and live jazz. Not my normal kind of scene by any means, but it was a lot of fun nonetheless. The music was no joke--about 10 musicians, most of whom looked no older than high school age, jammed the entire night with a surprisingly adult sound. There was also a bartender who was positively a 21st century reincarnation of Rasputin, complete with creepy mustache, hypnotizing gaze, and ability to summon fire on the bar at will. We eventually booked and retired at Nate's house for the night.

Sunday's first order of business was a healthy-sized brunch. The Beach Chalet above Golden Gate Park delivered well, but nothing could prepare us for the absolute misery of trying to find parking at the San Francisco Vintners Market at Fort Mason...

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The short lense of my Captivate does this view no justice. The hillside, ocean, and beach were breathtaking.

Go here for brunch! You wont be let down... This was also the last happy memory before the parking debacle.

The SF Vintners Market event brought together 200+ wineries from the region for unlimited tastings at the Fort Mason Center in downtown SF. Sounds cheery, no? A giant, part open-air, part aircraft-hangar-looking space with food stalls, vendors of every sort, gorgeous views of the bay, ocean and Golden Gate Bridge, and of course, tons and tons of wines to sample. But the world colluded against us... the weather on Sunday was balmy and sunny, which partially contributed to an influx of people to the area. Couple this with a mini-marathon, the traffic for the Vintners market, and the actual resident parking situation of the neighborhood, and the result is about an hour of pure frustration, screaming, stressing, sweating (followed by chills), gnawing, clawing, and unadulterated hatred for anyone in the immediate vicinity walking to or from a vehicle. Ok, I suppose it wasn't that bad... We were just dying to park, get to the venue, and start tasting right away. Greg finally found a small spot, just barely accommodating of his yacht (better known as the Aurora), and we were off.

Entrance to the Vintners Market.

I'll spare any lengthy paragraphs about the setup of the event, as the pictures below illustrate the scene. Many, many stalls with plenty of wines for sampling, along with cheeses, chocolate, various wine products and gizmos, and the occasional cupcake stand. Did I mention the drunk people yet? Yeah, there were about 2,000 of those, too. On to the tasting.

Greg and Geoff creepin' on a come up. The space was huge.

Heavy-duty glass with commemorative printing. Collectors item for sure. Ha.

JAQK 2007 22 Black Cabernet Sauvingon. We tried another of their selections, as well, but hell if I recall what that was. The event was sensory overload, so the tasting notes are going to be brief!

Westwood 2007 Annadel Estate Pinot Noir. No recollection!

Tudor 2006 Anderson Valley Pinot Noir. Another Pinot was sampled, but I failed to snap a picture of it. The guy pouring couldn't tell us much about the wines... In his own words, "I'm just a friend of the owner, you'll have to talk to him (points to dude on the other end of the table)." 

Cloak & Dagger 2007 Smoke & Mirrors Pinot Noir. We checked these dudes out because they had a funky name and logo. Their website has some crazy Illuminati stuff going on.

Robledo Family Winery 2006 Los Braceros Red blend. Good stuff.

Maldonado Vineyards 2006 Peter Newton Vineyard Cabernet Sauvingon. I recall this being really floral and all-around good.

Cesar Toxqui Cellars 2009 Russian River Valley Pinot Noir. Very good from what I recall. Mexican vintners know their stuff.

Cesar Toxqui Cellars 2007 Sonoma Coast Cabernet Franc. A unique varietal among the stalls full of Cab and Pinot. 

Cesar Toxqui Cellars Dulce Paloma Red (Port-style). The aroma and syrup of this port stuck in my glass for the rest of the event, even after rinsing. It definitely influenced the wines to come. Oh well, I didn't care.

D'Anbino Cellars Quadraphonic Paso Robles Red blend. This was really good!

Greater Purpose Bold & Smooth Blends. Bold = 55% Cab, 35% Zin, 10% Syrah. Smooth = 60% Cab, 40% Zin. The composition of blends is pretty nebulous and unapproachable from an identification perspective for me at this point, so it was nice that the percentages were clearly defined. Each wine had its own unique flavor.

Due Vinge di Familia 2006 Dolcetto, 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon, and 2007 Nebbiolo. Big, mouthy, and tannic Italian reds... Left our mouths dry and sour. Good stuff. Would pair well with a stale heel of French bread. Love that.

John Anthony 2008 "Jam" Cabernet Sauvingon. The name implies exactly what this wine tasted like... Really sweet jam. Imagine dumping a Splenda packet into Smucker's strawberry jam and there you have it. Not the most appetizing.

J&J Cellars Autumn Flight Barbera (Non-Vintage).

Yes, exhausting. But we survived by way of spitting each sample. Thanks to Greg for encouraging me to do so.

The trip back to San Ramon was relatively painless, and we eventually paired up with Greg's mom and step dad for a wonderfully authentic sushi spread at Danville's Sushi Bar Hana. We took down plenty of yellow tail, octopus, eel, bonito-flaked mystery rolls, soft shell crab, and Sapporo. The King's are most excellent hosts.

So there ended another successful day and night in wine country. We got to bed around 11:00 in preparation for Monday's activities--chiefly, meeting Greg's boss, hitting up a few more wineries in Healdsburg, and heading to Oakland to see Queens.

Part 3 coming soon.

P.S. This is Landu, the King family household guard dog and mascot. He greeted me each morning by hopping up on my bed and surveying the living room. Vicious yet lovable.

California Touring, Part 1

After the fine folks from Airtran placed me in San Francisco 45 minutes early, my gracious host and I made a quick pitstop for the finest McDonald's provisions available before a brief night's sleep. We made haste Saturday morning for the steam into Healdsburg. Traffic was touch-and-go, but the gorgeous rolling green hills and contrast of palm trees and ragged foliage sprouting from all corners of the landscape made an otherwise annoying journey tolerable.

Our first stop in Healdsburg was Dutton-Goldfield. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to snap label shots of every wine I sampled during the trip, but you'll see the fair share. Please excuse the shakey-cam shots, off angles, poor color rendition, and general lack of composition. Unlike my past job of being a Photoshop jockey and massaging images into perfection, I'm opting to go the quick and dirty route for the sake of timeliness.

On to the pictures! And as always, click for big.

Dutton-Goldfield 2008 Dutton Ranch Pinot Noir

One of two or three Pinots available for tasting that day. I honestly can't remember which was which... One was very fruit-forward and a bit monodimensional, whereas the other had the more characteristic subtlety of a classic Pinot. Either way, both were great. We also tried their Chard and Syrah, but I was too interested in sucking down the stuff to document that. The tasting room gal was super sweet and a great host, too. Check them out if you're in Hburg.

We moved Northward to Iron Horse next. By far the best tasting of the trip. The sparkling and still offerings were exceptional, and the tasting "room" had an excellent concept. The counter from which we were served is constructed of long slats of very old and weathered wood, and is completely exposed, save for an awning. The scenery behind the area is stunning. A steep hill that runs into vineyards and groves of trees, surrounded on all sides by more hills and mountains.

Sparkling and still selections, staged for tasting. A small office on the left, and lab on the right (not pictured).

All *quality* vineyards and tasting rooms have a tasting cat. This is not debatable. See that little ass man back there? He was nice. Additionally, this is the view behind the tasting area.

Our hosts for the day. Lisa (right) was super-gracious and treated us to an insider-style tasting (big thanks to Greg for securing those stop after stop). 6 or so sparkling, and maybe 8+ whites and reds? All wonderful.

Claude Roy.

The boys Bybee.

A trio of Pinot's for comparative tasting and analysis. Each was distinct and super-layered (2 of the pictured glasses contained single blocks, and the third contained a blend of 3). Some of the best Pinot I've ever tasted. Admittedly, my experience with high-end Pinot is somewhat limited, but this was undoubtedly Pinot par excellence (you like that right there?).

Stuntin in Cali.

Lisa kicking mad knowledge, serving up the Brut Rosé.

From Iron Horse, we moved South to Woodenhead. This joint was highly recommended, but the wines didn't show very well. The Zinfandels were out of balance, tasting more of sugary cough medicine than anything. No spice, no depth... Just a big hit of Welch's grape juice cut with Dimetap and Robotussin PM. Really weird, especially considering these are regarded well. The Pinot offering wasn't too shabby, but lacked depth and dimension. Kind of a one-or-two trick pony on the mouth and nose. The price point was also kind of outrageous... close to $50 for a bottle that seemed more in-line with a $10-12 offering. I'll certainly try them again in the future, though.

Woodenhead's flight menu.

Random tasting room shot 1.

Random tasting room shot 2.

At least they had a nice patio. But that nasty looking Airdale has to go.

We moved on to Rochioli for a quick tasting and back-room tour, but I'll save those pics and story for another time.

Frick was next on the list. Bill Frick's vineyards and tasting room evoke a bit of romantic idealism about wine country. Old and craggy vines creeping above tall grasses, rolling hills spotted with rows of unique varietals, a quaint tasting room adorned in eccentric art and ephemera... All with an equally eccentric owner/operator to match. I didn't get any bottle pictures because I felt Bill wouldn't quite appreciate it, but we tried some unusually good stuff: Cinsaut, Counoise, a Grenache and some Syrah's. Interestingly enough, a library collection of very old bottles was available for purchase at incredibly low price points. '93 and '94 Syrah's for under $40 (keep in mind 2006 bottles were also in this collection, which made the older vintages seem dubious in quality to me). Greg inquired about how the older bottles had aged, and Bill admitted he hadn't tasted one recently and that it was a bit of a crap shoot... they may have aged well, fallen flat or gotten nasty. The risk was in our hands. Greg manned-up and snatched a '93 and 2005, both of which were excellent, and paired well with the meat sauce had later that evening.

Front facade of the Frick tasting room.

Old vines along the parking lot. Classic wine country imagery.

Cyprus trees (right?) lining a bit of the property. Not pictured: the tasting room cat.

Exhaustion and starvation had set in, so we headed out to Coppola for food. A lot can be said about the sprawling, resort-like experience offered at the Coppola "Castle." Whether it's good or bad for Sonoma is beyond me, but it is kind of strange to come across a Mall of America-type vineyard among the lovely little mom and pop operations. In any case, the pizza was fantastic, and as a sucker for Coppola films and memorabilia, I thought it was pretty rad to be in the presence of the cool-ass Dracula armor. My gang and I had previously visited Coppola back in 2008 before construction had really begun on the new property... The food and wine was good back then and is still good now. 

Hell yeah, son.

That's it for now. Part 2 will be coming shortly, with scenes from the San Francisco Vintners Market, Rochioli, Seghesio, Ridge, the Queens of the Stone Age show in Oakland and much, much more.