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Words of Wine

Stoutridge: A New York Phenomenon!

 

Visiting wineries is one of my favorite pastimes, and I suspect, since you're visiting this site, that it may be one of yours, too.

Usually I go somewhat far from New Jersey to do that - Sonoma or Spain, Sicily or Sancerre. Yet right in my own backyard, or perhaps more correctly my front yard, there's a winery that is remarkably technologically advanced, but also fun, charming and beautiful. Especially if you live in New York, New Jersey or Connecticut, a visit to Stoutridge Vineyard is well worth the trip.

The current property of Stoutridge goes back to at least the mid 1800s, although it wasn't always a vineyard and winery - at times it's been a pig farm, autmobile garage, illegal distillery, orchard, even a training ground for rifle and pistol shooting. This rather eclectic history turned in another direction in 2001, when entrepreneurs Stephen Osborn and Kimberly Wagner bought the place and began returning it to its roots.

Like many other Hudson River wineries, Stoutridge is known for its hardy (and, well, hearty) whites: Pinot Blanc, Vidal Blanc, Muscat and Riesling varieties - and they do a nice job with these. Unlike other area wineries, however, they also produce northern Italian-style reds: Pinot Noir, Sangiovese, Teroldego and Refosco. But most striking of all is how progressive, modern and sophisticated this winery is. You have to see it to understand, but among the highlights:

The winery more than powers itself via a 2,000 square-foot solar array that covers the entire south-facing part of the roof. In fact, they'll soon be selling power back to their local community.

Stoutridge practices what are called "slow-wine" processes, using a tiered architecture that keeps the juice flowing downward naturally.
In addition to reducing energy consumption and capital equipment costs, many winemakers swear by gravity-flow techniques, believing that the less the juice is jostled and pressurized, the better. Amazingly, using tailor-made equipment including electric hoists, a single Stoutridge staffer can take a batch of grapes from crush to bottled wine.

It's not "just" a winery. Stoutridge is also a Vodka distillery, and as you can see, these gleaming stills are impressive (let's face it, winemaking equipment other than barrels is pretty...ugly). New York and, I think, federal law requires winery and distillery facilities to be physically separated, and here the distillery room is a world unto itself, lined with small barrels in which the vodka ages.

It's all tied together by a beautiful farmhouse, vineyards, picnic grounds and tasting room, so even if you're not into New York-style wines you should consider a visit to Stoutridge.

 

Jamie and Jack Davies: A Story Yet Untold

 

"For more than a year now they had been searching: on the highway, near the river, atop oaky knolls that rose abruptly from the valley floor, up wild canyons, and along the spines and scarps of two rugged coastal ranges. What they were looking for was not easily put into words, but the quality of the ideal was absolute and unassailable in their minds. They were searching for...They would know it when they found it."

- The opening paragraph of Napa by James Conaway

Jack and Jamie Davies were modern-day pioneers. Jamie died last week at home, but the mark she and her husband Jack left on American winemaking is truly meaningful and, I hope, lasting. It's ironic that few Americans have ever heard of Schramsberg, much less tasted what is perhaps America's finest and "truest" sparkling wine. But the name and the property have a storied history dating back to the mid-1800s, and perhaps the passing of Jamie, ten years after Jack, is just the latest chapter in a story yet unfinished.

Jack was a successful salesman and entrepreneur when he and young bride Jamie left a comfortable, secure life in L.A. and moved to a dilapidated Victorian house atop Mt. Diamond, south of lonely, tiny Calistoga. Neither knew anything about winemaking, nor did they know a single soul in all of Napa. And the house they'd bought, with all its promise, was mostly a haven for bats and rodents. The Davies were not just taking a chance, they were gambling their very futures...with a four year-old son and another on the way.

The Schramsberg story is itself iconic of the early years of Napa winemaking. Jacob Schram was a German immigrant who worked as a barber in New York after arriving in 1842. Ten years later and presumably bored, he set off for San Francisco, finding his way to the Napa Valley. No longer content with the life of a barber, in 1862 he purchased 200 acres of hillside vineyards. Eight years later, scores of Chinese laborers were digging wine storage caves into the hillside, and a second set in 1881. Today, those caves hold hundreds of thousands of bottles of America's finest sparkling wines, most of them meticulously if swiftly turned or "riddled" by hand. Before Jacob Schram died in 1905 he was producing at least six varietal wines bearing his name; William Henry Harrison, President of the United States, was served Schramsberg Riesling when he stayed at the famous - and still operating - Palace Hotel while visiting San Francisco.

By the time of prohibition the Schramsberg wine estate had become a summer home for the wealthy and doesn't produce wine again until 1951, when the property was resurrected by Douglas Pringle, who produced both table and sparkling wines. But almost as quickly, Pringle dies and his widow padlocks the place. The Schramsberg legacy might have ended there. But it didn't.

Fast forward to 1965. Jack and Jamie clear the bats from their home - with the help of a volunteer from the St. Helena Police Department - and are there to stay. They set off to produce their first vintage, but don't have and can't find any Chardonnay, the base wine they need. Eventually, Jack barters some Riesling grapes he's bought for 500 gallons of Chard. And he barters for it with the General Manager of the Charles Krug Winery, a guy names Robert Mondavi, whose name at the time wasn't known outside Napa. How things would change for both families!

It hasn't all been, well, wine and roses. Chardonnay, the "first grape" of sparkling wine, doesn't grow well on Diamond Mountain, nor does Pinot Noir - together the two principal grapes that go into Schramsbergs. So the Davies built relationships with many winegrowers over many years, such that today, they source their grapes from dozens of vineyards as far away as Mendocino County. Although that creates huge logistical problems, they somehow get their grapes in every year, and the results are spectacular.

The business, the Schramsberg name, and the Davies would flourish. Richard Nixon toasted Chinese Premier Chou En Lai in Beijing in 1972 with a '69 Schramsberg Blanc de Blancs. Today the place is run by son Hugh, and it's clear that nothing has been lost over the years in terms of quality or tradition - or dedication to excellence.

Last weekend I pulled out a bottle of Schramsberg, lightly chilled it, and toasted Jack and Jamie. If you love sparkling wine, you should, too.