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As it turned out, my only brush with greatness pulled away from the curb early in the morning as I watched a bus rumored to contain Julia Child depart for a bakery tour. That's right, a bakery: She had spurned a beautiful and informative day in wine country--to say nothing of a chance to schmooze me--to watch a bunch of bread rise. Why, that's something you don't see every day. But even if I couldn't identify anyone famous on my bus, I made out pretty well. Undoubtedly due to the potential influence of IACP members, winemakers pulled out all the stops, arranging one-of-a-kind tastings and compelling behind-the-scenes tours. They were also forced to let me in the front door, for a change. My exceptional charges hailed from all over the world (with a curious concentration in Ohio) and were receptive, enthusiastic, and bent on enjoying themselves. There was a colorfully dressed (and much-envied) woman who is head chef at a large Barbados resort, and a ponderous gentleman and his diminutive wife who write cookbooks that are "at least as good as the worst ones out there, and they pay for trips like these." One cookbook publisher who used to work with the Cognac stalwart Courvoisier gamely waded through my crusty French. Best of all was a thoroughly charming older man from Georgia who reckoned I'd have enough for five columns after this tour; I told him (to his delight) that one would surely be a scathing exposé on him. Our first stop was David Adelsheim's new winery, where he and winemaker Don Kautzner crammed an informative tour and tasting into the measly hour our schedule left them. Barely completed for the '97 harvest, the Italian villa-esque facility is impressive not just because of its new gear, 35,000-case capacity or sexy gravity-feed capability: With the beauty of a complex mathematical proof reduced to three or four lines, many hallmarks of modern winery design were completely rethought, cutting costs elegantly. The best example: Rather than laboriously dig into the hillside to make his aging caves, Adelsheim had rows of prepoured viaduct arches installed and then covered with earth, all in less than two days. Inside, the caves are calm and classy, accented with ornamented terra cotta sconces made by David's wife, Ginny. It was a good sign that the restrained Adelsheim style was not lost on the group, who particularly enjoyed the '96 pinot gris: I'd been talking up the varietal on the ride over, and Adelsheim's made me look good with its elegance and long, melon-infused finish. But as I learned later, the group's favorite stop of the day was Rex Hill, and not just because we were served an excellent lunch by Dundee's Red Hills restaurant. Winemaker and president Lynn Penner-Ash managed to be both vivacious and casual, winning them over completely with a well-structured tour and an inspired barrel tasting from three vineyards whose characteristics were evident in the finished '96 pinot noir she later served with lunch. These were cooks, after all, and ingredients are their stock in trade. Among the wines we tasted, '97 samples of pinot noir from the King's Ridge and Maresh Vineyards turned the most heads. The King's Ridge showed the lightness of the vintage more, but offered up a seductive, medium body and a distinctive nose of cinnamon, cloves and toasty oak. The Maresh, by contrast, was dense, purple and packed with eye-openingly crisp strawberry, raspberry and cranberry fruit. With a hint of anise on the finish, this excellent wine is the very definition of backbone. Winemaker Rob Stuart met us on the patio outside the Erath hospitality room, and with the winery's bucolic view as a backdrop, offered us a rare opportunity to evaluate a single vineyard, Dijon clone chardonnay that was rich, smoky and, unhappily, not for sale. After we finished a tour and barrel tasting down in Erath's ramshackle winery, he poured his '94 Anniversary and Weber Vineyard pinots, both of which were excellent ways to end the day. For this taster, the Weber edged out its sibling, opulent yet elegant with its big, sweet, smoky and smoked-meat nose, rich, succulent fruit and satisfying finish. Both, luckily, are still available at the winery. With its dazzling array of culinary resources and an epicurean citizenry devoted to exploiting them, the Willamette Valley is a perfect incubator of gourmet culture and, as such, an ideal context for an IACP convention--better than Phoenix, certainly, among whose basted retirees the gathering will occur next year. After our day in wine country, I know 25 more people who will agree. |
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