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The following are excerpts from the Salamandre Newsletter:
SALAMANDRES IN THE SKY
Tired of politicians deficient in candor?
Tired of sycophants who grovel and pander?
Tired of wines that sag toward the blander?
Well, quell your dander, Great Alexander
Try to hang loose, Commander Lysander
What's good for the goose is good for the gander
Time to explore the mountain meander
Time to ignore the feckless flatlander
Time to adore the new Salamandre
Holiday Open Houses Sat & Sun Nov 18 & 19
Sundays Dec 3 & 10 1-5 PM at the winery
Ancient tradition celebrates the Dionysian rites of harvest, replete with prancing satyrs and dancing maenads, frothing cauldrons and blushing sprites. I relish the mischief, the laughing, and the rumble of the crusher, but over the years I've discovered that my personal attraction often takes a more subdued tone.
I glide in my white bubble down Highway 101 at dusk. Parallel rows undulate along the Salinas Valley floor, converge toward the foothills and disappear into the crumpled velvet. Venus waits impatiently as the orange glow above the Ventana Wilderness blends through green into gentian. I sing along with my old friends and nobody makes a face, make ridiculous rhymes and nobody howls... just the purr of the engine and an occasional nudge from my dog. Nod to the truckdrivers, wave to the man carrying pipe in the field, let the fidgety beamer pass. Rare is this peace.
Beyond all of the jargon in wine, the one inestimable contribution to Salamandre is the spirit of the people who have spent lifetimes coaxing crops from this gravelly soil. We sit in the soft earth at breaktime, leaning against the vines these men and women have nurtured for 30 years. I share some black coffee, they share cinnamon spiced chocolate and the world's most delicious burritos. We regale the travesuras of our children and tease our wrinkles. The grapes in my lugs are always la pura seleccion.
This year's perfect growing season culminated in Salamandre's sixteenth commercial harvest, and a sweet one it was. The 2000 fruit set early. Cool, relatively steady conditions in Arroyo Seco preserved excellent balance of flavors and acidity. Further South, the full heat of Los Lobos turned the Syrah and Primitivo inky.
We picked our Syrah on Friday the 13th, then crushed it by the light of the full moon. That auspicious convergence occurs only once in 16 years, and this bright omen leads us to the invitation!