Salamandre Wine Cellars Winter 2001 Newsletter

The following are excerpts from the Salamandre Newsletter:

Winter Solstice Newsletter 2001

My daughter Aimee ran her first marathon with me in May along the fabled Avenue of the Giants in Humboldt County. As we sipped champagne after the race, I reminded her that there are 3 really good reasons to grind your gristle to a painful pulp for 26 miles. First, naturally, you get the cool T shirt and the medal. Second, you acquire this sense of invincible confidence that lasts for maybe 60 years, not something to casually deprecate, plus you can eat anything you want. Most important, however, you get to keep the buffed legs and take them to the mountains. We took ours to the Trinity Alps in early July.

We carried five days of wine plus a larder replete with onions, capers, fresh basil, and garlic-no freeze dried glop. (Check out the recipes on our website.) We drank freshly melted snow gleaming over glaciated granite and fondled clutches of lavender penstemon in the fractured talus. We admired the boldest of spruces and the oldest of boulders, tracked golden arrows and darting rainbows, shed a little blood but wasted no tears. One rugged cross-country day delivered us to Boulder Creek Lake, a sapphire mirror scraped from a high hardrock shelf with panoramic view of all the jagged peaks of the Trinities. This day nearly drained the last drop of our energy, but fortunately we still had a flask of our 1999 Primitivo.

After the obligatory icy plunge, we noticed three healthy, wholesome young people slogging along the shore wearing neoprene booties and carrying clipboards. (That's unusual.) I asked what they were doing, and to my immense delight, they responded: "We're doing a Salamander survey for the Forest Service." I suggested that perhaps they would like to join us for dinner to discover a Salamandre that wouldn't be found in any ecology text.

That night, I settled happily into the glow of a full tummy, young red wine, weary old muscles, and a sappy paternal pride. I awakened groveling in a trash can alley strewn with rotting garbage in a New York summer heatwave. (Winemakers have sensitive noses, you know.) My gummy eyes made rainbows in the moonlight. I heard the scuffing of gravel. Then I saw the source of the odor. Mr. Black. Right between Aimee and me. This wasn't a time for whiny middle aged introspection. I jumped up and channeled my best slavering rabid Afghan wolfhound assault bark. The pine needles curled, the waterfall froze, and the rocks cracked. My dog was embarrassed. Mr. Black cocked his ear, then rambled away over the silvery slabs.

Aimee confided later, "I wasn't really all that worried about the bear, Dad, but I was afraid this time you really lost it."

You won't have to lose anything! Come join us for our

Holiday Open Houses

Saturdays, December 1 and 8, at the winery, from 1 to 5 PM
Can't make it in December? - Try January 19, same times

Winter Wines for the Hibernating Bear

Salamandre's customers hopefully recognize our serious attitude toward wine quality, but they must also know that we like our wine best outside, preferably as a reward for a hard day trekking through abrasive environments…laughing with the best of friends, stroking the world's best dog, watching slivers of garlic writhe in the hot oil, and retelling history with creative wrinkles.

Some folks might mistake this ardor for a frivolous macho indulgence, not really proper wine appreciation, certainly not fitting for necktie wearing. The last part, at least, is correct. Actually, we rank our wines according to how far we're willing to carry them on our backs. After 20 miles, it better be good! This year, we validated some high mileage wines!

Primitivo 1999. Nobody likes habitual braggarts, but I think this is the best red wine I've made since the 1979 Amador Zin, and that's all gone. We aged this one 20 months in oak, and it's fortunate any survived our serial samplings. It ushers a flashflood of berry fruit and fully muscled body, bordering upon the character of young Port, yet it holds a surprisingly perky-actually nearly perfect-acidity. Vanilla notes and black pepper combine with the oak to make this a memorably balanced wine which will likely age for 2 decades. I don't plan to wait that long. $30

Menage a Trois 1998. After experimenting with an Aussie style blend of Shiraz and Merlot from a warmer region of Monterey County in 1997, we knew we had an exciting, if not entirely original, idea. For the 1998 blend I held out a barrel each of Merlot and Syrah, then added an equal portion of Primitivo to stiffen its spine. We then put these three mates into intimate contact in a dark place and didn't disturb them for another year. They not only got along fine, they fulfilled each other's innermost fantasies. Velvety smooth, full of fruit, and unabashedly delicious. I am very proud of this wine, but there's not much left. $25.

Chardonnay 1998. It's becoming an old refrain, but our Arroyo Seco Chardonnays improve for 3 years after bottling, largely due to their bracing acidity and wide spectrum of apricot, apple, melon, and tropical flavors. Selectively harvested by winking friends, Silver medal at Orange County Fair, this Chardonnay is a great example of this region's fruit and finesse. Still improving. $22

Merlot 1998 and Syrah 1998 Both of these wines have won medals in every fair I've entered, but more important to me, they both taste wonderful. Nailed it! While some fickle Californians shun the "fad" grapes of the 1990's, I am very proud to serve these vintages to visiting European winemakers while my daughter speaks French and I flash dumb gringo grins. Will age, but ready now. $20

Pinot Noir 1998 This was my last vintage from the Matteson Vineyard (now Ciardella Vineyard) in the Santa Cruz Mountains about 6 miles from the winery. Like most good Pinots, its color seems thin at first to Cab drinkers, but the waves of flavor roll to the beach long after the last swallow. Surf's up. It's emerging from some adolescent brashness and developing some table manners, but don't trust him with your car or your daughter. Not much left of this one, either. $28