Wacky Words of WineSense

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Learn more about Ms. WackSense (Christina Julian) at christinajulian.com

Failla wines never fail

When you step into the tasting room at Failla Wines you’ll feel a bit like you slipped into your best friend’s cozy living room on a cold winter’s night. Contently comfortable and unwilling to budge from your seat, especially when you start drinking their wine. It is loaf-inducing. They are all about their pinot as many already know. It is everything you have heard and so much more, but since I am wacky and typically choose to go against the normal grain I will talk about everything other than the pinot. I almost busted a gut, when I slurped down the Phoenix Ranch Syrah. It was so heady in taste I almost passed out dreaming of pork bellies. Deep, rich, meaty, delicious. Good to the last thick drop. The Keefer Ranch Chard was no slouch either. It was a flavor collision – smack your lips together tasty – I know this will sound crazy but imagine pineapple pie with smatterings of caramel corn. A tasty delight of a wine. So pick up any one of their pinots and match it up aganist these other goods. Then find your own cozy couch to nuzzle up to and enjoy the good life that this wine has to offer. Wacky WineSense Rating: 4.7 Grapes!

Some random bits I learned on the wine trail with Kirk Venge this week

During one of my romps around the grape fields with our resident expert Kirk “the grape meister” Venge I picked up a lot of random bits of info and some wine lingo basics (note to self: buy winemaking for dummies book to get up to speed on the obvious, before my next day in the field). Granted, a lot of this information may be obvious to the rest of the valley and world, but I am pretending we are all wine virgins for today. I am here to impart my new found wine wisdom. Harvest season in these parts is typically from September 1st-November 1st, but subject to change due to weather patterns. Rain, as long as it is gentle enough and not consistent, will not harm the grapes, but it will slow things down in getting the suckers to a state of readiness for plucking. I am still a bit bitter about not getting to pick yet. I learned that wine is all about patience. I have none so I am not sure how much of a career I will have in this biz. White wines are usually prime for the picking earlier than their ruby red counter parts. Kirk and I were collecting lots of baseline samples from all his different vineyards. We also met up with another strapping grape meister from the fine family, Atinori Vineyards. In fetching samples we were darting in and out and around all the different rows of grapes getting random samples. We had to eat those samples and spit out the seeds. A critical part of my assignment in this endeavor was what he called the “5 bite crunch test.” Not 4 crunches not 3, but 5. This gives you the optimal amount of juice and sensation to see where the grapes are in readiness. Then you're supposed to spit out the seeds. I would suck them down because I didn’t want to be wasteful. I suspected that Kirk expected better from me, but being a gentleman he let my dalliances slide. I’m not sure what exactly I was looking for as I crunched. One grape tasted better than the next. Nothing made me gag because of tartness or vomit because of grossness. I would say that from a laywoman’s point of view all of these grapes were prime and almost ready for greatness. I told Kirk as much. He seemed to value my opinion, or maybe he was just being polite. Other miscellaneous information that I found fascinating. Brix. Brix signify how much sugar is present in the grapes. Never enough in my book being a sweet fiend. Apparently, per the Grape Meister there is a sweet spot in brix which also impacts the alcohol content. If I were to ask my parents’ opinion they would say “there can never be too much alcohol in our wine!” 20-25 brix is nice for whites. I think. I hope I wrote down that stat correctly. If it is not accurate, blame the wine reporter not the source. The average life span of a grape vine is approximately 25 years but there are old vines that live on almost to eternity. If only I could live the life of a vine. I would be revered forever. When you are lucky enough (good god how did I get here!) to charge your arms into a fermenting tank you will feel like you have ended up in heaven. It is cool in there and as the grapes and their juice envelop your arms, it is better than the most expensive mud bath arm massage (sorry Calistoga – it is). I thought about jumping into the fermenting tank and taking a nap, but Kirk stopped me before I did so. Not on his watch. I may return when the sun goes down. The tank looked a lot like a small hot tub from the outside. It smelled super fine too. That’s all for now folks. My plucky pal Kirk and his cronies continue to mine the grapes as if they were diamonds. Waiting for the perfect pick. I plan to be there when it happens. Night or day and even during happy hour if need be. I am just that committed. To hell with diamonds being a girl’s best friend. That is so nineties. Grapes and the wine they produce will now and forever be this girl’s best friend. Wacky WineSense rating for my day in the life: 5 Damn Good Grapes, and then some!

Day 1: "Chasing Grapes" on Kirk Venge’s Wine Trail

Pinch me. Pinch me again. Kick me. Kick me hard. Shove me. Knock me over. Drop a wine bottle on my head. I am awake. This is my life. I am not dreaming. I had the very good fortune of falling onto the wine trail during harvest with none other than Kirk Venge. I know they are always saying that Brad Pitt is super nice and Megan Fox, ok, bad example, not as nice. George Clooney, good looking, charming, sexy, funny and wow, nice guy. And Bruce Springsteen, super sweetie, accomplished musician, wizard of sound, financially solvent, tune-making genius that has spanned the decades and still continues to churn out popping music year after year, from one decade to the next. Sort of like Bono, but without the burly Irish accent. I bring all this up because I predict a similar path for Mr. Venge - only vino instad of music, though I hear he belts out some kicking tunes at Anna's after a night of bocce. While I don’t really posses authentic crystal ball caliber skills despite what my former articles might lead you to believe, I do have a mighty powerful gut instinct about these sorts of things (I knew that the Internet would have great promise one day!). So I will go out on a wine branch and predict that Kirk Venge, winemaker, everyman’s good guy appeal, may just be the Springsteen of the Napa Valley wine scene (if your not a Springsteen fan – insert another legend). Year after year from as far back as his days in diapers he has been steadfastly building his cred, honing his winemaking skills, and surpassing many of his peers (young and old) in the process. And I hate to bring age in the picture, but I am old enough to do so. Most guys that I know that are his age are still trolling city streets looking for America’s next top model and the “new” Jagermeister bomb. Instead of succumbing to such a fate, Kirk has quietly laid down the bones (wine vines) and added the fleshy grapes on top to produce and make smashing wine, up and down and all around this valley. For this installment of my “day in the life of a wine master” I will dub him the Pluck Meister, for now, knowing that his nickname will change as we transcend into the different segments of the wine making process. The rain has slowed things down just a tad so I escaped picking grapes today, much to my own devastation. But we did something that I could argue was just as fascinating. We galloped from vineyard to vineyard, region to region (because he lays claim as the resident wine maker for vineyards all over town) plucking a grape here, a grape there, a grape just about everywhere, all in the sport of “sampling”. In layman terms that’s taste testing grapes to determine how close those roly poly delights are to being ready to be picked. Some will tell you that sampling and making the perfect wine is all about science. How many brix, how much acidity, tannins, yada, yada, yada. Others kick it more old school style by relying strictly on the good old fashioned taste buds. A slurp here, a gobble there, a suck there, all to get an assessment on how close those plumpsters are to being prime for the picking. But for the Pluck Meister (keep up! it’s code for Kirk Venge for Christsake!) it’s a hodgepodge of many things, including a smattering of science plus a whole lot more. I was lucky enough to watch him squash grapes, baggie them, preen juice, and then dump a little bit of many things into some beakers, followed on by a thorough examination of said contents underneath a winemakers microscope gadget. That process was more interesting than the sum total of one-too-many years in my high school and collegiate science programs. And while all of that business is well and good, he says a lot of it comes down to instincts as to “when” prime-time picking hour has arrived. The key to good wine is the grapes, right? Even I know that much. But according to the Pluckster it actually comes down to “getting the pick” (my translation: part science, part instinct, part magic) as he calls it. Maybe my picky nature will finally serve me in life? His “getting the pick” has garnered him a fruitful wine career for many years to come. The secrets to his "picking" mojo are going to stay between him and his happy hound Lucy, for now. It is sort of like good hair. Either you have it or you don't. You can't really teach it to grow hip and stylish, it just is. I hope I have made you salivate, or perhaps caused you to seriously consider a mid-life career change to the field of wine making, or, if nothing, else maybe I have enticed you to open up your mind, your wallet, and your palate to slurp some wine, or at a minimum to pop open your keyboard to learn a bit more about the making of that sinful delight we call wine. Today’s ramblings represent about one (1) hour of a day in the life with the Pluck Meister. I don’t want to give away all his secrets in one post. So stayed tune. I dare you. I challenge you. I invite you to pinch yourself. When you confirm that you are alive and awake and not dreaming with the sandman, log on and get your winemaking fix for the day at Wacky WineSense. Come along for this wild grape-filled ride as Kirk and I “chase grapes” all harvest long (his words not mine, how thrilling does that sound?) You’ll be glad you did. And if I am worth the weight of my electronic pencil you’ll learn a thing or two about this glorious time of year we call harvest in the Napa Valley. Fall is life changing on the East Coast, just another day in LA, spellbounding in the Rockies, and well,l I have run out of references, but here in The Valley fall is a snap of time that transports you to somewhere you will never want to leave, in smells alone.

Smashed sandwiches and salty sweets

I’ve found that securing a worthy sandwich is not as easy as one might think. Having trolled the streets one too many times I finally found a delight worth talking about. Scoring one of these babies, the BBQ chicken sandwich at Oakville Grocery is going to require some effort, jockeying a place in line on a weekend afternoon is nothing short of sapping, so call ahead and avoid the hassle, though, I can honestly say the approximately 30 minute wait (peak lunch hour) is truly worth the wait. I can’t explain why the simple ingredients of grilled sliced chicken, pepper jack cheese, and a tangy tasty sauce squashed between homemade baguette bread and pressed until the contents pop out through the sides taste so damn good, but it does. I repeatedly smacked my lips together trying to glean every last morsel that might have gotten wedged between my teeth and tongue. Sure, I looked retarded but it wss worth the exercise to get one more shard of this killer sandwich. Top off this pocketful of pleasure by scooping up a handful of the store’s homemade sea salt caramels. Buttery but light with sea salt in every bite. Candy need not be for kids alone, especially these little wrapped suckers of sticky goodness. And to prove my commitment to these grocery goods, I make the trek from Calistoga to Oakville in the dead of Napa Valley’s version of traffic to get this pressed concoction just about every week. Wacky WineSense rating: 4.75 Grapes!

Rembering New York eight years ago

When I think back to eight years ago today, I remember it like it was yesterday, a cliché but true. I don't just remember that tragic day, today; I have remembered it every single day of my life since, as do countless other people. People all over our world. People who were in New York. We saw and experienced and lived through something unimaginable, something that couldn't have possibly happened in our lifetime, yet it did. The smell of its aftermath still lingers large in my memories as does everything about that day. The view of the tip of Manhattan on fire as my brother and I hauled over the Queensbourough Bridge to some form of safety. We remember a city that was wallpapered with people. Flyers of the hundreds and thousands of people that were missing. People that would never find their way home, people that were lost forever. We remember waking up having had the most horrific nightmare. But soon realized that it was as real as we were. We remember the street side vigils, the gatherings in the park, the countless memorial services. We remember the bomb scares, the evacuations, being stuck on the subway. And we learned what anthrax was. People were changed forever. Children lost people that they had yet to get the chance to really know and love. They also lost their innocence in an instant. They grew up overnight without ever knowing it. Yet we became a part of something amazing, something that I never thought I would witness in Manhattan. We saw an outpouring of love on the streets. We saw strangers helping each other.The taxis stopped honking. We saw people unable to get up, to move out of their apartments, to get up off the street to move across it, all part of our days in the months that followed. And for every one of those visions we saw people, helping people. We tried to help ourselves. In an instant a city that was known for its resilience was cracked to the core very literally, and we the people were too. But in all of that something amazing happened, yet another thing I thought would never be possible at the time. We survived, our world survived, our people survived. We got to move on. It was the most unimaginable thing during that time of my life. But here I sit. We are here. We are still kicking. Our world in all of its craziness, has prevailed. May it do so for the rest of eternity.

Best in Show at September’s CHEERS! St. Helena

On the first Saturday of every month I wake up feeling foggy and fine all at the same time. Mainly because I got to partake in a bounty of fun – from fabulous wine, titillating food, bopping music, and impulse shopping, all in the comfort of my own neighborhood. It’s the wine country’s version of the American Dream, and I’m here to tell you it’s a good one. Sadly, all things come to an end and September’s CHEERS! marks the end of this era of fun Fridays. While there is one more CHEERS! social in October, it will be more understated, mainly because it will be inside, as opposed to the blocked street varietal we’ve become accustomed to. But fear not, it will surely send off the series in style nonetheless. But enough boo-hooing, onto my wrap up! That marching band certainly made an entrance. It also told me that anything is possible in St. Helena, if you want it bad enough. Despite trying to throw myself into the band to relive my youth, they weren’t having it, which was probably for the best. I would have dragged these cats down. While we’re on the music front, I will linger just a little bit longer. Wristrocket reminded me how fortunate I would have been to grow up in the 60ies. Unfortunately I did miss that calling by just a year or so, but I remain forever in awe of classic rock. Regardless of my decade of birth it will always rule my music roost, as will this band! I thought I was hallucinating when I saw a, brace yourself, CUP CAKE TRUCK (Kara’s)! Someone revived me with wine and I came to realize it was not a mirage, the folks at CHEERS! brought me the only other thing that could make me holler almost as much as wine – sweet bakery treats (cupcake love better than true love?), right to my hot little hands – street side no less. The food options where kicked up big time. Not just street meat anymore folks, everything from steak sandwiches, tex mex, fancy Italian sodas, pizza, meatballs, pulled pork and much, much more. The Terraces 2007 Napa Valley Zinfandel was on the top of my list wine-wise. A sweet tart essence that made me pucker and then retreat as I slurped in the suble richness of this vino. Then my lips pushed themselves down to my glass for more of that goodness. A cherry crevasse that I never wanted to climb out of. Parallel’s 2006 Estate Cab was a phenom in my wine notebook. This stallion of a wine had winter legs, hefty and beefy too, with more of that smashed up cherry sensation that I love so much. And last but not least, each and every CHEERS! I have had the good fortune of pulling my wine glass up to receive the consistently stellar Petite Syrah that is brought to me (and you) by the good folks at David Fulton Winery. This wine is all swank, all the time. Deep, rich, succulent. After drinking it I find myself thinking and saying “whoosh” as it flies oh, so heavenly down my wine tube. Fantabulous! So go on my wine-horts. Get out there, and start slurping and gobbling up some of these tasty delights that are right in your own backyard, if your lucky enough to live in the Napa Valley - if not drive or fly here, yes, it is that good. Thanks CHEERS! you can be my BF any hour of any day of the week. You always lift me up and never bring me down (except when you board up your social for winter :0( ) Thanks! Wacky WineSense Rating: 5 Grapes!

Venge Wine is Ve-vi-licious!

I’m not sure, as a wine reporter, if it is ok to make up words, but I am taking blogging liberties in support of a good cause. If I had to break it down to one legit word for Venge wine, it would be very delicious ( you say potato – so I can say Ve-vi-licious, it just sounds sexier, sort of like their wines make you feel). So many tasty wine morsels too little time, but let me try to put my over-achieving to good use just this once, by babbling on about as many of their wines as possible in one small blurb. Here were my favorites for the day (hint – I’ll need them to invite me back for more!). Champ des Fleurs. I drank this beaut of a wine when it was at least 107 degrees in Calistoga. Viognier is my favorite style of white, second only to Sav Blanc. This white gave me a bit of both (10% V / 60% SB) and then they tossed in some Chard (30%) to keep things bouncing - mainly my taste buds. Pineapple upside down cake, dry, crisp, deep and flower-filled. I’m hoping that some strapping young gent will give me a bouquet of this wine, so much better than flowers. I tasted two Sangioveses, Penny Lane and Atlas, they were both delicious, but the later was my fav. It’s sharp, hefty and dense all at the same time, a “Chianti” style wine right here in Calistoga (though we can’t reference it that way). If you like a little BBQ with your red wine, Scout’s Honor, a zippy Zin blend, is the perfect mate to your carnage. He’s a peppery, meaty mouthful. Bite burger, slurp wine, suck steak, slurp more wine, you get my drift. And while I am throwing metaphors all over the place I will regress to my childhood for just a moment. The next two wines are likened to Beauty (Gladys’ Syrah) and the Beast (Muhlner Steps Syrah) but oh so much better than Disney’s version. I challenge you to dub yourself a beauty or beast. Then taste these wines side by side. It will be clear which you are by the wine your lips gravitate to. For me the more hefty the wine the better, but on that scorcher of a day I enjoyed the calmer, quieter, smoother and serene tones of Gladdy. She was the bomb, a cherry bomb, but a polite one. The Beast (Muhlner) was not shabby either, spectacular actually. Tomorrow I may become a beast, who knows. It was scrappy, deep, a massive bounty of dark fruits with just a ding of expresso (or perhaps I was just jonesing for coffee?). So if you’re ready to wake up your wine taste buds, beg, borrow, steal, give you kiddies away, whatever it takes to score a visit or some of this wine. I’m going to be hopefully optimistic, and assume they will be pouring at the upcoming CHEERS! St. Helena - Social this Friday!. If they are, you’ll know where to find the scribe behind this wine babble madness. Wacky WineSense Rating: 4.9!