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Program gives novices an intensive
learning experience about the local beverage Wednesday, May 29, 2002
By VIVI
STENBERG-WILLIAMS
Register Staff Writer
Moving to
Napa Valley is a dream come true.
Living in Napa Valley
and lacking the appropriate vino vocabulary is unfortunately
not the perfect pairing.
But what is a girl from the
arctic supposed to do?
I admit it, going wine tasting
at local wineries is probably my favorite pastime, but I
usually don't get much more out of it than a healthy buzz and
purple teeth.
Unwilling to enroll in lengthy
viticulture studies at the college, my ideal approach to
learning this new language includes less time and
effort.
A wine boot camp sounded like the perfect
Saturday activity for a Valley newcomer.
The pairing of
wine education and boot camp gimmick is courtesy of Barbara
Drady of Sebastopol. That is Major Drady to us
recruits.
Drady is the co-founder of Affairs of the
Vine, and together with Michelle Penson, she has run the wine
education company for four years.
After several decades
in the wine business, Drady still aims to "de-mystify that
enticing liquid in our glasses."
Sounds good to
me.
Reporting for duty
When the alarm goes off
Saturday morning at 7, the genius of the idea doesn't strike
me quite as hard. But I resist the temptation to blow it off
and gear up for combat.
According to the Orders of the
Day e-mailed to me by the Major, I am to assemble at forward
command post (also known as St. Helena High School) at 0830
hours.
But not until I've gotten a proper start on the
day.
At this point in the day, espresso is a given, and
not knowing exactly what's ahead of me I figure I'd throw in a
rich muffin to line the stomach.
When I arrive in St.
Helena, a quick glance at the other 20-something recruits puts
me at ease.
Any similarities to our military
counterparts would be laughable. Except for Drady who dons
cargo pants and a bright-red sweater with bold "major"
imprint, the rest of us are sorry excuses.
But we're
here to learn about wine, not to battle the elements or our
inner demons, so I guess it's all in the
attitude.
We're given a run-through of the day ahead,
including the information that we won't be tasting any wines
until 11 a.m. This creates a bit of a murmur in the ranks
that's only silenced by the major assuring us that if someone
gets really desperate, she'll pull a cork.
Before we
set off in a convoy to the first winery, survival kits,
uniforms and hats are also dispersed.
The group is
split in two as we head for Honig Vineyard and Winery in
Rutherford.
Around me I hear people telling they've
been recruited from as far away as Indiana and Colorado. A few
seem also to have been handpicked by their friendly neighbor
and part-time major, Drady.
Although we differ in age
and origin, we quickly bond in a shared sense of intimidation
and anticipation for the 13-hour day ahead of us.
At
the winery, Elaine Honig may not have gotten the outfit right
(no combat boots, just a sun hat and fancy sunglasses), but
she's quick to lead us into the field.
As we get our
first up-close and personal view of the vines, Elaine tells us
how sustainable farming is the key word in everything they do
at the winery.
For a good half hour, Elaine brims with
enthusiasm and pride about the ecological principles she and
husband Michael Honig apply to farming and
winemaking.
However fascinating, this is boot camp, and
I want to see some action.
Sharpshooter
action
My call is answered as we're introduced to
Juan, who's taking us sharpshooter hunting.
OK, so it
may not be snipers we're slated to take down, but little bugs
trapped in sticky papers are still pretty exciting.
As
we head for the battlefield, some of us are clearly more eager
than the rest. A handful is soon fighting to spot the correct
number of green-blue sharpshooters in the myriad of dead
insects.
"No, no. That's a mosquito," Juan keeps
repeating. But we get better as we collect more of the traps.
Soon those of us on the frontline have been named "the
bug people" by the main group that walk the vineyard with
Elaine, who willingly answers questions.
I can deal
with that, and so can Lyne, a science editor from Boulder
who's gotten hooked on wine while vacationing in
Italy.
She said she wanted to experience the wine
industry from a different angle than what she'd gotten if she
did the regular tasting-and-tour routine.
She'll soon
to prove very right in her assessment.
As we finally
head back to the winery and some sought-after food and
tastings, we're greeted by the Honigs' dogs.
Arthur, a
handsome large German Shepard, is unfortunately not the
sharpest knife in the drawer.
To the group's amusement
he starts off chasing his own shadows, until the reflection of
our many glasses on the patio floor catches his attention.
His eagerness gets to one of the more docile dogs, who
wants to do some showing off of her own and grabs ahold of the
twice-sized Arthur.
Battle ensues, and Elaine gets hurt
in the commotion.
Upon inspection, a bleeding gap in
one of her fingers puts a quick damper on the group.
Luckily, John -- one of my fellow bug people -- is not
only an excellent sharpshooter spotter, he steps up to the
plate as a nurse as well.
"We're nothing if we're not
flexible" boasts the Major, as she makes a quick decision to
commence with an aromatic workshop.
We haven't even
started when Elaine returns, hand in air, to continue her
education of the troops. It's decided that she'll receive a
purple heart for her wounds.
Training
intensifies
Outside the beautiful home of the Honigs,
tables are set up, and in front of us we're given a plethora
of spices and fruits, chocolate and
butterscotch.
Feeling a jolt of hunger, I'm tempted to
taste the selection, but I resist and try to follow the lead
of others to smell the various goodies.
The Major
promises that no matter how we've felt about identifying
aromas in the wine before this experience, by the end of the
day we'll get it.
Learning by doing seems to be the
method as the two glasses in front of each of us are filled
with wines we're not told what is.
I look around me and
catch the drift. I swirl and smell -- swirl again and smell.
All I can think of is gas. I try to word it a bit more
eloquently, hence I confidently proclaim "petroleum" to my
table.
Adding that I smell a hint of window cleaner,
the others don't seem to think I'm sincere and continue their
own sniffing.
Surprisingly I'm somewhat right as the
major informs us that the wine has a distinct smell of cat
litter, which I interpret as ammonia -- which again could be
interpreted as a cleaning agent. I decide to go for it and
guess (correctly) that the light yellowish-green liquid is a
sauvignon blanc.
"Ooh, you're good!" the guy next to
me says, as he gives me official stamp of approval: The wine
nod.
In a whirlwind speed, we're given another four
flights of wines.
"I told you this was boot camp," the
Major grins.
Unfortunately, it seems I did my finest
work on the first wine. I'm unable to pick up much of
anything, and subsequently get every single wine
wrong.
But the day is still young and I'm rewarded
anyway by being served a wonderful lunch on the Honigs'
patio.
But there is no time to waste. The troops are
soon gathered again and the convoy is off, leaving the wounded
Elaine behind.
And more action
At
Flora Springs in St. Helena, we're led past a wedding in
progress. We're obviously out of place so, with a new glass in
hand, we hurry into the caves where Nat Komes talks about
barrel aging and the difference in the origin of the
oak.
Important information on winemaking
notwithstanding, I can tell the group is ready for more
action.
Again, the Major is right on target as she has
scheduled a blending session under the guidance of owner John
Komes.
Before we're given the tools to do some damage,
John lets us sample how wine is suppose to taste. We all "ooh"
and "aah" over the winery's Trilogy wine, and set out to match
the velvety drops.
At my table, Lyne the scientist
hooks up with Paul the pharmacist, and together they take a
very scientific approach to the process. With razor-sharp
measures, the two blend according to the formula we're given.
Not so for the couple next to me. The two scientists
across from us scowl at us as I join in an ambitious,
free-hand approach to the art of blending
wine.
Realizing we have run out of cabernet franc as a
blending agent, we rally for leftovers in the glasses around
us.
Somehow the end result tastes
splendid.
Maybe you just can't go wrong with the wines
offered by Flora Springs, or maybe the old adage that homemade
always tastes best once again holds true.
Our wines are
bottled and corked, and the Major has even prepared individual
labels for us.
As we gather our bottles, I hear someone
say that we have tasted 35 wines thus far. I believe them, and
decide to steer away from the Flora Springs tasting room,
heading (almost) straight to Dean&Deluca's for a triple
latte instead.
The decision turned out to be a good one
since our last stop is at Schweiger Vineyards on Spring
Mountain Road -- a very windy Spring Mountain Road, that
is.
The brisk mountain breeze feels good as we take
unsteady steps out of our vans.
If president Fred
Schweiger, an army veteran who greets us in his old uniform
shirt, is disheartened by the look of the recruits at this
point, he doesn't let it show.
Again we're led into the
vineyard, where we apparently impress him by our knowledge of
growing and harvesting grapes.
But the hillside
vineyard is obviously a different game than what we saw at
Honig, so more information is eagerly gathered.
Fred's
son Andrew takes us through a quick tour of the facilities.
For the first time in our schedule, we get an insight
into the production part of the winemaking.
"You can't
be in touch with the wine without touching the wine," Andrew
says.
The group couldn't agree more, it
seems.
In a proper wine boot camp you can't be in touch
with the wine without touching the food either.
In the
cellar, the entire family joins us for a four-course dinner.
Gathered around several tables, with the youngest Schweiger
zigzagging around us on a three-wheeler, we discuss the day
and sample the Schweiger wines.
"The best part for me
is always to experience how the group bonds," Major Drady
says. "I see it from the moment they meet, how they
passionately embrace each other. It's the most rewarding
thing."
As for my reward? A week later, I went back to
the battlefield, this time winetasting with three industry
insiders.
"You say you get chocolate from this merlot?
I think not! I believe it would be more correct to say cocoa,
my friends."
Three impressed wine nods
followed.
Vivi Stenberg-Williams can be reached at
256-2216 or
vstenberg@napanews.com
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