Only the Stones

There is a song of the Cheyenne people that I came across in a library book my son and I were sharing for our nightly story time.  The song was a mantra during times of sickness, or before going into battle.  It was a song to bring strength and remind us of both our mortality and our potential for greatness in our lives.

cheyenne

My friends,

Only the stones

Stay on earth forever.

Use your best ability.

I’m pausing.  I almost want to just leave it here for each reader to ruminate and cultivate their own thoughts.  But as is often the case, so many of my “life” moments overflow into my “wine” moments and this one is no exception.  Pour yourself a healthy size sip here and please be obliged to continue.

The sauce and I have spent the last couple of weeks doing some promotional work for Falling Bright through guest spots on a few local (and national…and international) radio programs.  On most occasions when we are interviewed about our professional backgrounds and our thoughts on wine and other trivia we receive a lot of questions such as…how do you choose wines for your collection?  Those wines that are so expensive, are they really worth that much?  Can you taste the difference?  Do scores matter?  And you get the point.  My interpretation of this line of questioning from the wine consumer’s standpoint is fairly simple:  People want to know what they are getting and they want a stamp of approval that it’s top notch and they want to know that other people would envy what they got and want to get some too.  And you know what?  I love this piece of the human nature that seeps into the world of wine appreciation.  If there were not a drive to seek out the best of the best and the hidden gems and the over-deliverers then the wine world would be set to become a pretty boring destination.  But with human nature being what it is, the simple soon becomes so much more complex.

Here is where my roads diverge.  Critical ratings of wines seem to be focused toward the consumer.  The purpose of the score is to provide tasting insights, a short preview of the wine, and a summary of it’s merits in a quantitative format.  However, if it is so well-known that wine appreciators are out there benchmarking and precious gem mining then why is there such a move to ignore the score?  It seems there a tendency to reject what is said by the critics only so that we could all return to the mines with our pick axes and no headlamps.  Now let me be clear, while I certainly appreciate what a wine critic has to say, I most definitely do not live and die by the numbers when I am considering the wines that are best for me or best for a consulting client.  This being said, I would never wish for a world of wine where there were no benchmarks and no scores to follow.  For me, scores are a road map for a leisurely journey rather than GPS navigation in heavy traffic to an appointment you’re late for.  There are options along your route and the options are laid out to enhance your pleasure rather than to bring you to your destination with the least delay.

So where did that other road lead?  If critical ratings and reviews of wines are focused ahead to wine consumers, it seems that they leave winemakers and wine producers in the rear-view mirror.  The picture this paints for most wine appreciators is that winemakers will always be chasing after the critics for the next big number.  But I have to say, of all the winemakers I’ve ever spoken with, very few if any of them speak of scores.  There are plenty of numbers on their minds – lab sheets, calendar dates, degrees Celsius, degrees Fahrenheit, degrees Brix, the price of barrels, etc… but usually not critics’ scores.  They give a wave to the rear-view mirror just before getting back to the work that’s cut out for them, the vintage that is on their hands.

So what about the poem from my introduction?  I’m trying to keep a reminder around for myself to constantly be aware of the work I am doing – to give my best effort.  This includes the work that we are doing to build quality into the wines we are bringing to our shop.  We recognize that our work is under constant review and that it is a reflection of the work that has been done all the way back to the vineyards – and the work of the winemaker.  When the time comes for review and recognition, there is one thing a good winemaker will be able to stand on – the stones on the earth.  The stones will remain right in place on the earth and a good winemaker will know that he/she has used their best ability.  We should all be so sure in our every endeavor that we have used our best abilities.

At Bucher Vineyards

Going by most of the charts and timelines that attempt an illustration of the lines dividing one generation from the next, I’m technically a millennial [GASP!] and Sauce is a GenX-er [eye roll].   This would explain why his taste for music far exceeds my taste for noise but it is still a mystery why he is so much better at social media than I am.  Somehow, someway we have managed to come together on most topics concerning world politics, we don’t argue over religion, and we have a deep respect for each others’ work ethic.  So it seems that the dividing lines between generations are not as straight or narrow as one would initially assume.

Naturally, I am in favor of blurry generational lines because they allow me to extricate myself from membership in the “worst” generation.  But wait, weren’t GenX-ers well-hated by the Boomers?  And Boomers just being “kids these days” as their parents and grandparents wagged a finger in their direction?  It is a perpetual cycle that we search for disdain – we cannot approve of the next because it makes ourselves the last.  It is so hard to face the imminent arrival of our own irrelevance.  And this is where I have to drag myself away from the pull of negativity, force myself to stop categorizing, and adjust my focus to see the good [deep breath] – the good in the millennials.

Lucky for me, a breath of fresh air and a change in the view are just the thing for accentuating the positive and encouraging a new perspective.  And what do you know?  Sauce and I found ourselves rolling through the bucolic hills and dales of the Russian River Valley in Sonoma County.  Bucher.Cows-and-vineyard-looking-east-panoVineyards as far as the eye can see…wine tasting…Pinot Noir!…and…Dairy Cattle?  [Grrr].  Sauce, this better not be one of your crazy cheese things.  As we turn up the long drive bordered with white rail fencing and fringed with electric green grass my reality snaps into focus; this is not the midsummer Pinot Forum jaunt of my pre-children years.  It’s January.  It’s pouring rain.  The seats around me are occupied by Nona, Sauce, and our toddler happily munching his second packet of fruit snacks and it’s only 10am.  I just realized I’m the mom.

Stepping out into the persistent drizzle, we were greeted by Diane Bucher at Bucher Farms / Bucher Vineyards & Winery.  Her wide smile was welcoming as she invited us to explore the family farm

Bucher.KalonCrossing.
Mr. Hollywood visits the Bucher Farm.     

operation and familiarize ourselves with the lay of their land.  After a few layers of rain gear, a pair of rubber boots, and my brief but earnest explanation of why not to jump in the puddles next to the cows, we were off on our adventure.  Simply stated, farm life is every three-year-old little boy’s dream.  There are large vehicles, tall haystacks, cows that moo, and doggies that bark.  I don’t think that Sauce and the mini Sauce could have been happier with the sights, sounds, and even the smells of a working Dairy.  They were in their element together and only the offer of a warm & dry seat in front of a glass of Pinot could pull the Sauce from his frolic with the milk maidens of Bucher.

 

Back up the hill we climbed and ducked under the flying Swiss flag to find ourselves around the table with Diane & John Bucher and daughter, Hannah.  John’s firm but friendly handshake was a familiar reminder of his likewise personality  – we had met a number of times over tastings down the road at the Williams Selyem winery featuring the single vineyard line-up of Pinots that includes a bottling from the Bucher Vineyards that stretch out before us just beyond the panoramic window across the room.  John pours us his Rosé of Pinot Noir to start with and as we taste through his line that includes an unoaked Chardonnay, the barrel fermented Rio Oro Chardonnay, and three smashing Pinot Noirs, the conversation drifts between cows, grapes, land, cheese, business, and Family.

My happy, warmed up, cow-whispering toddler is busily crayoning his next masterpiece on the broad antique living room table that Hannah Bucher has so graciously spread with layers of newspaper.  My mother-in-law has a contented I just sipped amazingly creamy Chardonnay grin across her lips.  There’s not a cell phone in sight (save for the dormant device in front of Sauce – discreetly set to silent mode).  My pencil is down and my glass is up.  There is a millennial amongst us and my aggravation meter isn’t zipping off the charts.  It’s actually not even registering – my inner grouch is flatlining here folks.  There is a pair of vibrant, attentive, curious eyes across the table from me and they are attached to a twenty-something that is fully engaged in a conversation about agriculture, family-owned businesses, and social media [of course].

I understand that there is a major gripe about the work ethic of millennials and I am certainly guilty of proliferating this complaint; but I’m turning a long slow corner.  The further I navigate into my own journey of parenthood the more obvious it becomes that the state of the next generation [whichever generation that may be at present] is a  direct product of those who came before [read: those who are griping].   The deeper I dove into the conversation at The Bucher Farm, the more inspired I was to take ownership of my parenting possibilities and to proliferate forward thinking with this next generation.  Accepting responsibility for the future generation seems to be a daunting task but there is no other way unless we plan to stop time in it’s tracks.  How will I make it through this?  My advice to myself is this:  when this task seems overwhelming I will make pit stops along the way to take in the view and adjust my focus.  These diversions will include places like the vineyards of the Russian River Valley and The Bucher Farm.  These backroads jaunts will lead to conversations with people like Hannah and Diane and John.  And these talks will continue to bring new perspectives that drive us to seek out the good – the good people, the good wines, and the good in ourselves.

Bucher.Family.jpg
The Bucher Family

 

 


More Reads & Sites:

Get Inspired by Hannah Bucher – here’s her Bio.

Virtually Visit Bucher Vineyards

What’s that Williams Selyem wine we mentioned?

Get yourself a bottle at Falling Bright.

 

 

Resolved

I don’t make resolutions.Champagne Coups 2016

I don’t KEEP resolutions.

I don’t MAKE resolutions I can’t KEEP.

Let’s just run with that last statement.

We’re two weeks into January – rocketing towards this 2016 thing – and I think a little each day about how people receive the gift of a new year.

Most who know me know that my household is one filled with food, wine, cheese, more wine, desserts, dessert wines, and other bacchanalia.  For all of my adult life I have been in a restaurant based job where the objective has been to take food to people to make them happy and satisfied.  And for the most part, the food + wine = happiness equation works out!  Conversations start to flow.  Smiles spread wider.  Songs are sung louder.  Hugs are hugged longer.    I love watching this process and I love even more being a part of it.  It really is the essence of life.  That being said, you can see how dieting is never a resolution for me.

ResolutionDestruction

How about more exercise?  While I do admire the committed running habit that my sleek counterpart (sauce) keeps, I allow myself no delusions and fully recognize that my fitness routines are much more sporadic.  If I must be resolved to make an improvement it is usually more inwardly focused than out.  This is something I encourage even the body image resolution makers to include into their routines – and most will see that an examination of their inside is just as challenging as transforming the outside.  There are fewer benchmarks to follow and the goals are not as measurable but when you start to get results you will be glad of that.  While each of us aim to reach a certain number of inches or pounds or minutes and seconds – none of us aims to count the number of laughs or hugs or tears of joy we’ve had as those should all be infinite.

And so for 2016, I’m resolved to:Super Busy

  • be less busy and more productive
  • talk less and say more
  • disconnect to reconnect
  • have a really good laugh
  • be authentic
  • “get it together”

And to start checking off my list, I’m going to go finish up making dining reservations and tasting appointments for the coming weekend in Napa & Sonoma!


Catch up on a few posts from 2016 and Pass the sauce…

Whole Hog: an introduction to tiffandsauce  If you’re confused about who “we” are, read this and you’ll surely be more confused.

Drink Me!  If you failed to do an audit in your cellar back in the Fall of 2015, you can be resolved to do it in the New Year.


 

Falling Bright Wine Merchants Visit our gallery of Fine Wine Online if you’re resolved to drink better wines in 2016.

 

 

Veteran

I always loved a good parade.  It could be the smallest Hometown, USA version: with high school bands playing, the mayor riding in a convertible furnished by the local Ford dealership, and the town fire department proudly demonstrating the lights and sirens for kids lining the curbs of Main Street.  Or even the big productions of the Rose Parade in Pasadena or Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York – they still capture my fancy and most likely always will.  Parades are patriotism and Americana in top form.

Within this celebration of our towns and communities across the nation it is only appropriate that we take time to include a thanks to our Military Service, so we often see our Veterans honored on parade.  I remember watching columns from the VFW march along in the annual Chief Joseph Days parade of my hometown and as I sat observing in the late July heat my child-minded concept of a Veteran was… all those “old guys” that were in a war a loooong time ago.  In the beautifully ignorant bliss (call it innocence) of childhood, anything that happened before you were born is just not on your radar.  My fourth grade class in elementary school would write letters to the soldiers in the far-off war that we saw glimpses of on the evening news.  Desert Storm.  The full concept of war was only beginning to occur to me and it remained a very distant and disconnected notion.

Considering this disconnect from the reality of world politics and the climate of conflict in the place and time of my in-so-far short lifespan, I can see how it came as a shock to me in my twenties that the Veterans of War were my peers.  And my brothers.

I’m often at a loss for words so I write with a good old fashioned Roget’s Super Thesaurus on my desk (yes, I know there is an internet).  If you have a copy (or the internet), take a moment to look up Veteran.  Here you go – Veteran.  Were you just transported back to my childhood mind – sitting curbside at a parade in the Late July heat?  Now we’re both speechless.

I want to use this moment of speechlessness to quietly say something very loud.  I owe a debt of Gratitude to the men and women of the United States Military Service – Young and Old.  And may I constantly remind myself that these Veterans have made a great sacrifice in relinquishing the innocence of their youth – they are not just “old guys” from a long ago war.  And in the case where they have reached an age of true wisdom and experience – they most likely gained their Veteran status many years prior as a young person in Military Service.  Thank you for committing your youth, your strength, and your life to protecting the freedoms we enjoy in our country.  May God Bless you and may our Nation show you the deep respect and honor you deserve.


VeteranChadSams

VeteranEvanSams

Cultivated: Growing Our Gratitude for the Farmer

Kalon at Laguna Beach on the evening of September 28, 2015 - Total Lunar Ecclipse Blood Moon

The Blood Moon rose over Laguna Canyon as we wound our way back towards the city lights after a late September evening on the beach.  It was nearly in total eclipse with a sliver of red peeking out.  The universe gifts us with moments like these.  We take notice and as the moment passes it may fade from the memory until the next time nature jostles our mind a bit.

To be closer to the Earth or closer to the glories of nature is an aspiration for many, myself included.  But reality for most of us is that we dabble here and there in the natural world.  We rake up the leaves.  Refresh the tired herb garden.  Cultivate a small patch of veggies in our backyard gardens.  These small connections with the dirt serve to keep us grounded, both literally and figuratively speaking.  It is my trials and errors at making a better connection with the earth that serve as natures little reminder to me that I should have a greater appreciation for those who achieve this connection on a grander scale – farmers.

Lee Martinelli Sr. Farming Jackass Hill Vineyard

It’s so gratifying that our four children really like being part of a family farming operation and are dedicated to seeing it continue for generations to come.  I am so proud that our family works together in this agricultural business and plays together as a family.  -Lee Martinelli Sr.

There is no better time to celebrate the life and work of those who cultivate the earth than at the close of Harvest.  Most California vineyards are through the pick, Oregon finishing up as well.  For winemakers the fun is well under way.  For the growers, most express a sense of calm or feeling of relief that their fruit is in and the season is drawing to a close.  The calm will be but a small pause before looking forward to the next task, the next chore, and natures constant string of small nudges to jostle the mind.

For those who make their life of the land – the farmers – these nudges are taken in such stride it’s almost as if nature was but a cadence keeping the time.  They can show calm in the face of adversity.  They find peace and tranquility when the task at hand is insurmountable.  Their existence is at the mercy of nature – we all are but some of us refuse to live by that mercy – and they accept this arrangement with humility and grace.

Donnie Schatzberg of Precious Mountain Vineyard

I think what needs to be changed is the sustainability and farming practices have to be more widely accepted.  Humans are not the only creatures on this planet you know, we have to share it.  -Donnie Schatzberg

We’re not waiting until Thanksgiving to be Thankful.  We’re thankful now for the people who still find value and purpose in cultivating the land and we’re Thankful to the God who has made it so.  We will continue our trials and errors in our own gardens as well.  Perhaps these small rituals really can be big victories for the soul if we capture them and transpose them onto other areas that might feel barren.


Related Reads:

The Martinelli Family on the History of Their Land

The Legacy of Jackass Hill – 2015 Wine Spectator Video Contest Winner

Precious Mountain Vineyard

Williams Selyem Video Interview with Donnie Schatzberg


Kalon at Laguna Beach on the evening of September 28, 2015 - Total Lunar Ecclipse Blood Moon

Memory of Taste: exchanging a Kiddie Cone Moment for a lifetime of Sense(s)

 

Taste Memory

There was (still is?) a little roadside hamburger stand in Wallowa, Oregon where my mother would stop in with a car full of us kids for a post-game treat on our way home from the softball field.  As I begin the telling of this story, the voice of Sauce is in my ear reminding me, “You have told me this story a million times”.  Perhaps I have.  But I will tell it again.

As we age (like a fine wine of course), this repeated story telling in an almost ritualistic fashion assures us that we’ve still got that glimmer of memories past.  That we came from somewhere.  And that we’re possibly even going somewhere.  We see children practice this ritual in a similar fashion.  Our three-year-old son tells us over and over a recounting of his daily events – trivial, complex, pleasant, and disturbing – it is all captured in his mind’s eye.  The most trivial usually being bathroom and bodily function related.  A more complex story covering emotions, questions concerning the universe and it’s existence, and long scenarios beginning with “once upon a time”.  He is comforted in his relationship to his narrative.

Going back to The Little Bear.  There was a vanilla soft serve kiddie cone for dessert.  Their signature touch was a red gummy cinnamon bear on the top.  It looked so appealing in that red-on-white cherry on top of a sundae sort of way.  But it tasted like – FIRE!

A few decades later, the fire has settled down into a warm bed of coals and I find a cinnamon gummy bear to be a sticky sweet nostalgic confection.  So where does this road lead me in terms of my Memory of Taste?  It is but a short side jaunt on the larger supersensory highway of a Lifetime Palate.  Retelling The Little Bear story in my own mind, and out loud just to tickle the Sauce nerves, reminds me that my best and most highly sensitive reception of taste was when I was a little girl, a baby even.  Where something could be so delicious – or so offensive – that it would stick.

So that’s it? We have lost the sharp sensory abilities of our youth?  The best wine quaffing opportunities passed us by when we were but babes on the breast?  Not entirely.   While I have not gone deep enough into the depths of science, I have a lukewarm assumption that as we age our perception of aromas and flavors does dull.  However, if we tune into the world around us, our bank of sensory memories continues to expand which in turn gives us a greater capacity for interpreting the sensory perceptions we receive.  To keep a sharp palate, we exercise beyond the physiology of tasting and smelling to log in to a longer term memory bank what otherwise would be a very short term experience.

And the how…It’s all just a presence of mind.

There are no “5 Easy Ways” or “10 Simple Steps” coming up, but rather suggestions for how your everyday sensory experiences can be heightened just by being present in the moment.  Take yourself on mental field trips.  Go to extremes and then contrast them.  Try a few versions of the following:

  • a hot & dry place and a cold & dry place (think desert vs. tundra)
  • a cool & damp place and a warm & damp place (think Redwood Forest vs. Tropical Rainforest)
  • a very empty space (think Vacant parking lot or warehouse or an open field)
  • a very crowded space (think New York subway/sidewalk, Disneyland at Fireworks, Costco on Saturday, the I-5 any second of any day)
  • a modern place (think Art Museum or Luxury Car Showroom)
  • a rustic place (think Horse Stable, Mountain Lodge, Roadside Hamburger Stand, Tombstone Arizona)
What did it smell like?
What was the intensity level of the aromas?
Now take those observations down in a mental note and return to them on your daily path.  If you shop a farmer’s market tune into the smells of the fruits, vegetables, herbs, and flowers.  When you step into a coffee shop for a quick chat over an espresso – stop and smell.  When you go for a jog, a ride, a row, a walk with your dog, or whatever is your choice of winding down – breath in.  Taking notice of the scents in your surroundings is building your memory bank for future reference.
Then go and uncork that bottle.  Follow those truly simple “3 Easy Steps”:
swirl, sip, repeat

If the smells and tastes from your glass transport you into your Memory of Taste, then congratulations, you have arrived at your wine destination.

More Places, Smells, & Memories for your reading and viewing pleasure:

Whole Hog: Now That’s a Lot of PORK! But It’s Only Half the Story…

I’m Tiff.  He’s Sauce.  Together we’re like smoke on a pork rib; one just shouldn’t be without the other – oh, and one is dry and bitter while the other is quite sweet.

Our paths intersected in 2005, then converged into one in 2007.  We have always enjoyed each others’ company and have passed many hours by eating good food, drinking good wine, and telling great stories.

This page is where those stories will be shared.  We would be obliged if you stopped by every once in a while just to catch up.  If you like to become a regular, please make yourself at home, we’d like that too.  Pleased to make your acquaintance.