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Words of Wine

A Welcome Ghost in Napa

 

It's fitting around Hallowe'en time to mention V. Madrone in St. Helena, California, which is back from the dead - or at least it's the reappearance of a "ghost winery" dating from well before 1900.

August Hersch, a German immigrant to Milwaukee, came west from that beer and brats town in 1881. When he died in 1894 his widow Frederika offered the property for sale along with 20,000 gallons of "cooperage and winemaking equipment"...and there the story ended. In the early to mid-1900s it was turned into a resort and lodge, with eight or nine cottages and a restaurant.

Or did it?

Fast forward to 2001, when Novato residents Pauline and Chris Tilley bought an eight-acre property just north of St. Helena across 29 from Ehler's Lane, and hired a well-known local historian to research its past. One of the documents he "unearthed" was from an 1887 issue of The St. Helena Star, noting that Herr Hersh had "planted some 12 or 15 acres of choice vines" and "builded his home"..."which included a large cellar with stonewalls, having a storage capacity of 20,000 gallons. Mr. Hersch being an experienced vintner, makes his own grapes into wine, the yield last year aggregating 5,600 gallons."

Discovering that article from the Star was key - it helped prove that the place was a pre-prohibition winery, allowing the Tilleys to apply for a winery use permit from Napa County. They've spent the intervening years making necessary changes to the property including the farmhouse, wine cellar, vineyard and barn, as they look to formally open--re-open, really--the winery in June of '08. In the meantime they somehow found time to plant and harvest grapes from their little 3.5 acre vineyard.

The Tilleys made their first vintage only in 2004, a mere 70 cases, and they're sticking to Cabernets under the direction of Chris Dearden. Chris is a real Renaissance wine man; he studied at UC Davis, worked at Seguin Moreau which makes oak wine barrels, interned at Schramsberg sparkling wine house up the road, then launched a "new" career as full-fledged winemaker. Since then he's worked at a tiny Carneros winery, the giant Hublein Group, and also lent his skills to Keegan Cellars and more recently Benessere. I'll bet he's shoveled out a few more fermenters than he cares to remember. And now he's helping bring a ghost back.

The Tilleys' much larger, second vintage came from the prolific 2005 crop on their little but well-placed slice of the Mayacamas, and I found it to be young and a bit eager as you might expect from a California Cab not yet released. The 2004, on the other hand was medium-bodied and lush, but not nearly as muscular or concentrated as many Napa Cabs typical of these foothills. That's a welcome change in a worthy first effort and I'm looking forward to tasting the '05 when it has, as we Marines say, more "time in grade."

These little wineries shouldn't spook anyone...they are the stuff of great stories and great wine. Best of luck to the Tilleys.

Wine Ratings are Like Monopoly Money

 

Imagine you own a small hardware store in, say, Cincinnati. A good customer who's also a familiar face walks in and buys some power tools costing a couple hundred dollars. Great so far, right?

You ask "Put this on your tab?" He replies, "No, I'll pay cash." Fine; you ring him up, and he plunks down $212...in Monopoly money. This is a problem, because, well, you'd only accept Monopoly money when you're playing Monopoly. But you would take a particular paper currency - U.S. - because you see it often and it's therefore familiar. More importantly, you recognize it as valid.

Well, the story is the same for wine reviews, wine rating systems based on points, and the judgments of wine reviewers. For example, to a lot of wine aficionados Robert Parker is a familiar person, and they take what he says as currency. As a result, they may never try wines that he doesn't recommend and they'll probably also find that their tastes and preferences in wine inevitably start to be a lot like his. Do you like big, bold, fruity, explosive, "massive?" Hope so. I do, actually, but I also like subtle, gentle, elegant, restrained, nuanced, complex, crisp, and sometimes even off-beat.

Now, Parker is the most influential person in the wine world, but so what? His palate ain't yours, his tastes ain't yours and for most of us, his budget is also probably a bit different. And in my humble view, Parker is a wine rater and not really a wine writer. Anyway, what's in a number? Can Parker himself tell me the difference between a 92 (92 being some kind of threshold, I am told) and a 93? And even if he can, do I care?

My point is simple. If you're going to depend solely on Parker or anyone who rates wine numerically to tell you what to buy and what's good - and what's lousy - then you're going to be accepting quite a lot of Monopoly money.

If you're ok with that, fine. Me, I prefer my own palate...after all, it's the one I taste with. And I live in Jersey so I can tell you that Atlantic City is no prize.