Distinction.

In my opinion, the leaf of the Cabernet sauvignon (CS) vine is the most distinct of all Vitis vinifera varieties.  The very deeply, almost always overlapping (appearing as if the leaf is pierced with five holes) lobes on the leaf,  including the lyre-shaped petiolar sinus, make the CS leaf very recognisable.  (This specimen, photographed this morning, is wet because it rained overnight.)  By comparison, the leaf of a Chardonnay vine has extremely shallow sinuses and a petiolar sinus which is u-shaped.  I find ampelography, the field in botany that is concerned with the identification and classification of grapevines, fascinating. 
To my mind, nowadays, it is a distinct pity that wine made from CS grapes is not always recognisable as truly varietal in character (as is the grape variety's leaf).  Reflect upon the descriptors that self proclaimed Cab-lovers use to describe their favourite Cabs; jammy, bold, chewy, fruity, chocolate-y, smoky and, sometimes even, raisin-y (heaven forbid) etc.  What happened to the true characteristics of the varietal?  The finessed, medium-bodied clarets that I cut my wine drinking-teeth on, a wine with herbaceous undertones (pyrazines), tea leaves, damp earth, mint, cherries and violets, seem to be a thing of the past.  Cabernet sauvignon, où êtes-vous?  It's a vinous-conundrum.
Living in the Napa Valley doesn't exactly help my dilemma, either.  Napa is the poster child for big, intense, overblown, super extracted and high alcohol wines that are made to be consumed early.  There isn't a hope that the current style of CS being produced in the valley is chemically capable of aging for 20-30 years.  Perhaps I'm just getting old, my tastes are changing.  I'm okay with that.  That being said, I'm off to have a glass of an Austrian Grüner Veltliner.  Cheers!

The wild bunch.

Growing across a few open-topped, gravel-filled steps next to Vinoland's crush-pad is a wild grapevine (and some blackberries).  The vine is not really wild, as it most likely originated from a seed of a cultivated variety that was processed in Vinoland and somehow managed to germinate in an untended corner of the property. 
So what is it?  Well, the berries are spherical, green and tiny - 7mm, 8mm tops - and oh so very tasty.  The vine has had no measurable amount of water since the last proper rain (in the spring), so that could account for the berries being so small.  The clusters are cylindrical with shoulders, but that alone doesn't help to identify this vine.  Looking at the cluster did however narrow the ID down to three varieties; Chenin blanc, Semillon or Viognier - all of which have made at least one appearance in Vinoland (along with Chardonnay, Gewürztraminer, Marsanne, Orange Muscat and Pinot grigio).  No, for that I needed to take a closer look at the vine's leaves.  An ampelography, observations of leaf characteristics, is the only reliable way to properly identify a grapevine, especially one that has been water-stressed all season.  And sure enough, the mystery vine's leaf gave the game away; "...mostly 3-lobed with wide U-shaped petiolar sinus and reduced lateral sinuses; medium-length, sharp teeth; slightly bullate surface; light to moderately tufted hair on lower surface." (Wine Grape Varieties in California, UCANR Publication 3419).  Drum roll...Vinoland now has a volunteer, self-rooted Viognier vine.
No pruning, no sulphur, no water, no love.  This grapevine is just doing it's thing.  I love grapevines.