Saturday, Wined Down

7/22/11, Saturday.  Day off, I didn’t want grandiloquence, exaggerated setting.  So, I thought I’d stop by Mike Muscardini and Ty Caton’s tasting Room in the Kenwood shopping center.  Last time I visited, right about the time I started the blog.  Today, no motive, no intent or specific mission.  Ty: 2010 Riesling, ’09 Estate Cabernet, Petite Sirah of the same vintage, the Tytanium blend, the port.  From Mr. Muscardini, think  I tasted everything.  This Room has simple and savory strut about it.  Nothing scripted, or forced.  That’s what Sonoma County’s supposed to embody, enact.  Just what I was looking for 2day.

Hadn’t been to Landmark in a while, either.  So, why not stop?  They had an event going on, so I didn’t want to be that wine writer/journalist in the way.  Can only imagine how annoying that is.  Saw my old friend Donna, she quelled my caution, encouraging me to walk around, take pictures, and of course taste.  She made a point of emphasizing the Rosé.  Tasted through the characters, and as I remember, flavorfully theatrical, thorough.  Climatic configuration, enviable.  Couldn’t stop taking pictures.  Wanted to stay longer, but had to be somewhere.  All around me, smiling, sipping, socializing.  Saw a few new interactions inside, at the main bar, people from states thousands of miles distant from the other.  Conversation, new occasion.  This is wine, I thought.  Memorable days, interactions.  New friends.  No status, perceived elevation. 

Didn’t want to drive to Napa on my Saturday, and didn’t want to deal with Napa, either.  I wanted a REAL day of wine.  One Human, universal, unscripted.  Right there, Kenwood, I it tasted.  As a writer of wine, I’m realizing, the cautious approach doesn’t advance he moving the pen.  So, I today was convinced I need stay, continue in smiling scrutiny of my county, my base.  My side.  Wasn’t seeking intemperance.  This writer needed omneity, oeno-civility, not excess “industry.” Glad I spent the hours as I did.  Now, I sip.  Sip.  Reflective.  Just a writer with his diminishing glass ...