After my 11am tasting in Alexander Valley, I hurried to St. Francis Winery, where I met my sister for some tastings. Rain, where do you come from? I entered through the lab again, met Katie in her office. From the lab we took our glasses, two buckets, and she with a chemistry class-esque thief and clipboard. She asked me, in our first tank approach, “So, do you want to make a single vineyard Cab?” I responded with my new idea of blending in some Merlot, possibly some Syrah. She didn’t say anything back, took me to the first tank. Some Wild Oak Cabernet, from the Frannie’s estate vineyard. Then, a Petite Verdot. Couple more Cabs.
Meticulously led down an impressively long and narrow row of barrels, where she utilized the glass thief she brought from the lab. More Cab, from the same vineyard as ours, just different blocks. Thus far, we had a couple candidate, only one that retained our attention, resonated. “Did you want to taste some more?” she asked. Telling her I did, she knew exactly where to stop next. Katie brought me to some tanks in the far corner of the facility. Here we found not one, but two startlingly promising Cabernets. This is where she told me that I should top with Cab now, and in April when we revisit our sibling potion blend in some other varietals if I choose. Katie poured one into our glasses, where she stopped at the nose. Love how she slammed gavel so certainly. Her passion with wine taunts me into a security in my Crafts. Writing, and now Winemaking. We revisited one tank in that corner, both deciding that we have a topping wine.
In a brief, condensed debrief, my professor told me that I shouldn’t second-guess mySelf, EVER, as winemaker. To go forward with my decisions, be proud of them. “Some people won’t like your wine, that’s just how it is,” she told me. “Trust yourself,” she added. Again, I see an equidistance with my pages. Just write, release. Second- guessing Self is precisely what’s led to all this coffined composition, in the plastic box below this desk. Katie’s given me a renewed confidence, Creative coherence, and VENOM as an artist that no other professor, with the exception of Bob Coleman (R.I.P.), wine “industry” mentor, or sales pulpit could ever instill. This inaugural vintage of whoso cellars, with my sister, more than obviously the most beneficial recharge for my artistry; Literary, Oenology. LITERARY OENOLOGY, how my wines are to be made, whoso’s wines, in the name of Mr. Emerson. Defiant, Self-Reliant, Delicious. Drops, still down in drizzle, heavier.
Tonight, that ’08 Syrah, Sonoma County’s own, that I love so much, from St. Francis. In Kaz’s Room 2morrow. Looking forward to the pours. Need to pick a wine of his, analyze a bit, as I love their variant character’s continuity so much. Each bottle of his, enigmatic, and I’m not just saying so for the word. They devotedly persist in difficult deliciousness. I can’t understand their profiles. That’s precisely what I love about each bottle, each sip I take with the guest in that Room, or in my own home, at this keyboard. I know whoso’s debut will offer some likeness. My schooling, from both grape masters, Kaz & Professor Kate, only promises to provide puzzle, for even the most particular of palates.
As I fall into this session, these sips, I think of my tasting in AV, the meeting with my Professor, the rain relapse. Wine, how to make it... Went to Barnes & Noble, from St. Fran, bought a little black journal, solely for winemaking notes, discoveries, clues to follow. When I’m gone, I want reader to see how I learned. What I saw, what I sipped, what I sensed. Sip, sip ... In my missed rains.