Because we live in the Buckle of the Bible Belt, our wine choices are frequently limited; and the only way we can acquire certain wines is to order them from the vineyards when we visit -- because alas, most vineyards cannot ship to Georgia unless the purchase was made in the winery. Thus, there are specific stops to be made.
Our caravan of three cars (Jeff and Chris drove up separately) heads back to the Silverado Trail. Our first stop is Miner Family Vineyards. It's one of my and Hubby's favorite wineries; we are especially fond of their Simpson Vineyard Viognier and their Gary's Vineyard Pinot Noir. High on the hill, it overlooks a wide expanse of the Silverado Trail and the view from the tasting room terrace is breathtaking. Apparently, a crowd of others think so as well: the tasting room is over-crowded and the person behind the counter is harried and unhelpful. The most he can do is pour -- and frighteningly stingy pours at that! No matter; we simply take our glasses and head out to appreciate the view.
I wander towards the back of the tasting room, to one of my favorite exhibits in Napa. Lined up along one wall are seven large format bottles, each with a label describing its name and origin. A regular bottle of wine is 750 mL. The next size up is called a magnum, which is simply two regular bottles. The seven large format sizes are named after Biblical kings and figures: the jeroboam, equal to six bottles
(known in champagne as a Rehoboam, it is named after a son of Soloman and Naamah); the Imperial (known as an Methuselah in champagne), equal to 8 bottles; the Salmanazar, equal to 12 bottles; the Balthazar, equal to 16 bottles and named after one of the Wise Men; the Nebuchadnezzer, which accounts for 20 bottles; and the Melchior (another of the Wise Men), which holds 24 bottles. Now, the next format up is a bottle called the Sovereign, which holds 25 liters, or about 33 bottles. Miner doesn't feature a Sovereign; what it features is a 36-bottle large format bottle it calls the Bigolemofo. It cracks me up every time I see it. Honestly, it would actually be worth owning a bottle equivalent to three cases just for the pleasure, when being queried, "What's a bottle like that called?" of answering, "Oh, that's a bigolemofo."
Our next stop on the Silverado Trail is the Regusci Winery. Regusci was one of the first vineyards Hubby and I visited; and we always stop by whenever we are in Napa. We love the winery and their Zinfandels (for which they are known) so much that we nearly got married at the estate. In fact, we were about five months away from the wedding when the events manager learned that Regusci's insurance prohibited weddings. Nestled in the Stag's Leap District, Regusci is a "ghost winery," one of the few remaining wineries that existed between 1860 and 1900, and survived the phylloxera infestation of the 1890's, and the succeeding blow of Prohibition. Originally known as the T.L. Grigsby-Occidental Winery, it was purchased by Gaetano Regusci in 1932 and the family has been making wine since in the beautiful hand cut stone building.
At Regusci, I am crushed to learn that the Zinfandel had been sold out for months and the next release isn't until October. The tasting room is full: it looks like the Miner Family Vineyards experience redux. I am not fond of the white wine they are pouring; but their merlot and cabernet sauvignon still impresses. The tasting room manager is dynamic and raffish, pouring flights as fast as he can talk; he's almost charming, but being the lone man behind the bar, he's too distracted to be genuine. A woman queries the manager about a wine club; his dramatic miming of a heart attack and quick dismissive shake of his head elicits laughter from some of the patrons; but it clearly embarrasses and hurts the feelings of the woman asking. The merlot suddenly feels diminished on my tongue. I'm astonished that a negative feeling can dissipate the wonder I've been tasting. But of course it makes sense: wine is as much emotional as food; how many wines have I tasted that were all the more remarkable because of the person with whom I was imbibing? I miss Linda. She used to work here, and had a quiet, steady grace, and warm conversation that made the tasting experience feel more like drinking wines with a friend than a sales pitch.
Chris departs and Kellie queries: "Where's he headed?"
"Back to the office."
"Why?"
"Because it's Friday and other people are working."
"But not us."
"Not us."
We head next to Chimney Rock Winery, which is right next door to Regusci. It used to be a golf course before the owners planted Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc where the front nine were located (the back nine holes were transformed into fields of Cabernet Sauvignon in 2001). The Cape Dutch-inspired architecture is inviting and cool; Jeff is a member of their wine club, so we have the reserved tastings. Kellie falls for the Elevage, a Bordeaux-style blend; I am thunderstruck by the Elevage Blanc, a meritage style blend of Sauvignon Blanc and Sauvignon Gris. I have been enjoying the white wines today for some reason (it's hot out?) but this one...this one is something special.
This will be the last vineyard on today's schedule. Kellie has a spa appointment in an hour; I am feeling the effect of Thursday night's hard play and aching for a nap before dinner at Angèle.
Outside on the terrace, we sit under the wisteria covered pergola.










