Grappa anyone?

The 2014 harvest and the 2014 harvest-party season are well and truly over.  And last night I celebrated harvest's end with my co-workers at TWWIAGE.  I work with some great people and it's always nice to spend quality party-time with them.  For many of the production staff it was the first Saturday that they hadn't had to work since mid-September, so they really let their hair down.  And I mean they really let their hair down: the theme of the party was Woodstock so lots of bad, long, shaggy wigs abounded. 

Today, Vinomaker and I pressed off three different batches of Cabernet sauvignon.  It was a rather painless process this year, but still by the end of the day I was coloured purple from head to toe.  Quite psychedelic. 

Seeing all the skins reminds me that Vinomaker's friend, Sky King, usually pesters us to make a grappa from the pomace.  Too much trouble I say and it couldn't really be legally called grappa if produced in the USA.  What would I call it?  No matter, it's not going to happen.  Besides, I'm not a grappa drinker anyway.  The only grappa that I have ever thought half decent was one I purchased in a small caffé in Rome, just over the Ponte Sant'Angelo, which was made from Pinot Nero.  I digress.  Harvest is done.

A walk on the wild side.

It is a little known fact, but Vinomaker and his friend Sky King share the same birthday.  And, like most men, they treat this little coinkydink with a certain air of contempt.  Upon greeting each other, on the occasion of their birthday, they may give each other a cursory nod, or a begrudged grunt.  Except this year.  Sky King insisted that we all go out for a celebratory dinner, his treat. The venue, his choice. So last night, after a mystery drive south out of Napa County, our party of four found ourselves at Chris's Club, Vallejo.
Dinner was a relatively simple, but unique, affair.  New York strip (cut to order), grilled (by yourself, I kid not), salad and baked potato - with a mandatory side of a lingerie.  Yes, scantily clad young ladies sashayed through the bar and around the tables as we ate our DIY dinner.  (I couldn't make this stuff up if I tried). And  you could buy raffle tickets for the chance to win an item of the efficiently modeled lingerie if you were so inclined, or a drink from the bar if you weren't.
The cast of characters in Chris's Club, (I do believe they all came straight from Central Casting and are perhaps slated to appear in the next Stephen King film), included a Bettie Paige sort-of-look-alike. Our Bettie, like some modern day Madame Guillotine, sat doing her knitting, at the edge of the dance floor, the entire evening. Perhaps she was knitting something for one of the lingerie-clad models.
If not quite as frightening as a horror flick, it was all still rather strange.  Thankfully, the evening's soundtrack was not that of dueling banjos (a la Deliverance), but instead the bluesy guitar picking of Alvon Johnson.
Forgive the grainy photograph - there was no way that I was going to take a photo of the inside of Chris's, or indeed stand outside the joint and focus my camera - it's my version of a drive by shooting. Wow!

Redempt-zin.

Perhaps, in an effort to make up for bringing a Charbono to Vinoland's recent Zinfandel tasting, Sky King appeared last night for a BBQ rib dinner with a fairly decent bottle of the aforementioned wine-tasting varietal.  The Trecini 2007 Rockpile (Rocky Ridge Vineyard, Sonoma) wasn't the most typical Zinfandel I have ever tasted, and at $40 it wasn't the cheapest either, but when it came to pairing it with pork ribs it performed rather admirably.

To further redeem himself, Sky King also brought dessert, a Raspberry Frangipane tart from the Basque Café (Sonoma's 'Bistro on the Square'). But wait, Sky King wasn't finished - he paired dessert with a Fritz Winery 1998 Late Harvest Zinfandel (also Sonoma) which was delightful.  Oh yum!
Sky King - he's a good lad!

It's not rocket science.

A friend, Sky King, brought this newly released cult wine (Sky King's words, not mine) over for Vinomaker and me to try last night.  The 2006 Rocket Science, from Caldwell Vineyard, had great colour extraction, a high alcohol content (14.9%), heavy mouth feel, not a lot of tannins, an underripe red plum fruitiness and a burst of vanilla on the finish. Yes, being a 2006 it is young, but I think you can take its youthfulness out of the equation: this wine just seemed a little out of balance to me. Thankfully, this is not John Caldwell's (famous in these parts for his suitcase clones) primary label, other Caldwell wines I have tasted have been far more enjoyable. The name, Rocket Science, I am assuming is a tongue-in-cheek attempt at saying that winemaking is NOT rocket science.  That's right, it's not.  But it can get awfully complicated.
Is Caldwell a cult wine?  I personally don't buy into the whole cult wine fad.  Last year I was fortunate enough to be able to partake in a blind tasting of wines commonly referred to as 'cult wines' - Bond, Harlan, Phelps, etc., all 2002 Cabernet Sauvignons.  My favourite was a David Arthur Elevation 1147.  I'm a bit of an 'emperors new clothes' type person, so I'm usually not easily influenced by the opinions of others. To me, the David Arthur was simply the best of the bunch because I was assessing it with my taste buds, nobody else's.

Rocket Science is great if you like a particular brand of humour paired with your wine.  Admittedly, it was a rather nice quaffing wine once it opened up, albeit a little young right now.  In the end, I was just left feeling sorry for the poor retailer who is trying to merchandise this wine, on it's side, in a bin.  The angled sides of this bottle would make it rocket right out onto the floor, whoosh!

To quote Colin McPhail of Larkmead Vineyards, "Less cult, more cultivation". With that being said, I'm launching myself out into the vineyard.