Wines I'm Drinking: 2008 Clos Clémentine Côtes de Provence Rosé

Well into a stretch of hot, summer-like weather now, a cold rosé seemed appropriate this evening. I tried the 2008 Clos Clémentine Côtes de Provence Rosé, made from a blend of Grenache, Cinsault, Mourvedre, Syrah, and Rolle. It's one of those very pale, orange-tinged rosé wines so typical of southern France. The grapes used are all familiar except Rolle, which is most closely associated with the tiny appellation Bellet, in the extreme east of the Côtes de Provence, in the hills above Nice. According to Jancis Robinson, it's appreciated for its aromatic qualities and for its comparatively high acidity even when grown in very hot conditions. Recently it's been increasingly planted also in the Languedoc and in Roussillon. Some sources identify Rolle with the Vermentino of fame in Sardinia.

The wine doesn't offer a lot on the nose, but it has some pleasant melon scents. Light but flavorful on the palate with a comparatively low level of acid and a touch of sweetness lingering on a moderately long finish. A nice hint of butterscotch at the very end adds a little complexity. A good, simple food wine for hot summer evenings. Light and pleasant, but not in any way a standout. Reasonably priced at $3.99 at Grocery Outlet.

I have no financial connection with any producer or retailer of wine. 

For more wine reviews, use the Wines I'm Drinking label.

Places I'm Visiting: Wine Country in Amador and El Dorado Counties

At the end of June, I took a trip up to wine country in Amador and El Dorado Counties, in the western foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, heading east on Route 12, taking SR160 through Isleton, and then heading north, ultimately going as far as Coloma, the site of the original Sutter's Mill, where the gold that sparked the Gold Rush was found. Isleton is a small town right on the Sacramento River that I've driven through on  bird-watching trips (the area is good for seeing Sandhill Crane during the winter months; nearby areas are overwintering grounds for hundreds of thousands of ducks and geese each year), but I'd never stopped in Isleton. The town is small, sleepy, and a bit run-down, but with interesting quaint touches here and odd bits of history hanging on there.

[Wine tasting is detailed at the end of this post.]

Like so many places in California associated with the Gold Rush (many hopeful miners passed through here from San Francisco on their way to the gold fields), the place was once bustling to a degree hard to imagine today. The population was many times what it is now (about 850) and riverboats stopped here. Especially interesting are the Chinese-style buildings that remain--evidence of the large Chinese population that once lived in the area. Some of the Chinese apparently farmed and operated stores, others worked building the levees and docks along the river. There is an extant Chinatown and, next to it, a Japanese section. I would have liked to have learned more about the history of the place, but the local museum was closed on a Thursday. Lunch at Maya's (formerly Orilla del Rio; 14133 Market St.) was good. According to my guidebook (Best Places: Northern California, Sasquatch Books, 2010), Isleton was once "the asparagus capital of the world." Today it seems to be best known for crawdads. There is an annual Crawdad Festival on the Father's Day weekend. Just missed it.

From Isleton, passed through Locke, Walnut Grove, and Lodi, and from there into Sutter Creek on Hwy. 88, passing along the north shore of Comanche Reservoir. The towns in the area of Sutter Creek along Hwy. 49--including the tiny Amador City, Jackson, Plymouth, Mokulumne Hill, and others--were all gold towns. They have something of the same feel as Isleton--tattered and abandoned in sections, but with vestiges of a surprisingly rich history. Some of the historic buildings in the area have been restored and put back to use. The rough-hewn stone sidewalks in Sutter Creek, polished by years of use, were particularly attractive in places (photo). Mark Twain once was a regular in this area. It was in a bar at Angel's Camp, about 30 miles to the south, that Twain heard the tale he later wrote as "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," a story that helped bring him his initial fame. Had a good lunch on the "indoor patio" at Susan's Place Wine Bar & Eatery (15 Eureka St.) in Sutter Creek, but stayed the night at the St. George Hotel, in Volcano, California--a curious town with a curious name.

I know little about the geology of Volcano, but there doesn't appear to be a volcano in town. According to a plaque, early settlers thought nearby rock outcroppings looked like a volcano, so that's what they named the town. And why not? What Volcano does have is a deep sense of its own history; almost every building--and many other things in the town, including the fire bell and a Civil War cannon--has a plaque. Volcano is little more than a bend in the road, but there are two hotels--one at each end of the town--a post office, a few restaurants, and a bar or two (yes, each has a plaque). According to my guidebook, however, there were no fewer than 17 hotels in this tiny town during the gold boom.

I stayed at the St. George Hotel, dating from 1862, on the site of two earlier hotels that burned, the first built in 1853. The hotel's main restaurant is reputed to be excellent (as is the restaurant at the town's other hotel, the Union Hotel). Unfortunately, both restaurants were closed, but the hotel bar at the St. George serves decent food and has a good selection of local wines by the glass (I would call the place funky and friendly). There's a small park in the middle of town, about the size of a suburban house lot. In it are two plaques--one referring to a Christmas tree (no longer there) planted in honor of local boys during WWII, the other in honor of Carlo Andrea Dondero (1842-1939), described as "discoverer and founder of the California Carrera Marble Quarry," about three and a half miles southwest of the plaque's location. The monument points out that much of Stanford University was built with stone from this quarry and that many of San Francisco's civic buildings too, including City Hall. Who knew? If that weren't enough, Volcano seems to have had a long history of theater, boasting the first theater group in the state, but, according to the Volcano Theater Company (VTC) Website, Volcano also had the first debating society in the state, the first circulating library, the first private law school, and the first astronomical observatory--not to mention a very active baseball team. Facts like these again underscore the astonishing level of activity in this area while gold was being mined. Right now, the VTC (in its 38th season) is performing Agatha Christie's Murder on the Nile, in the town's outdoor amphitheater (through July 9). A rehearsal was going on as we pulled into town.

The rest of the trip was wine tasting, with a little bird watching mixed in, but not without detours. At the end of the trip I visited Marshall Gold Discovery State Park (in Coloma, just north of Placerville) which has a good historical museum, a working blacksmith, a monument to James W. Marshall, the man who first found gold in the tailrace (the rear water outlet) of Sutter's Mill (Sutter had partnered with Marshall to build a mill here to supply lumber to Sutter's Fort, in Sacramento), a monument showing the location of the original mill, and a full-sized replica of the mill, which fell into disuse only a couple of years after Sutter and Marshall built it. With the recent rains and snowmelt, the river that powered the mill (the South Fork of the American River) was cold and moving swiftly. I also stopped at Grinding Rock State Historic Park, which has the largest grinding rock in North America at the site of an old Miwok Indian village. The petroglyphs mentioned are much worn and very hard to see, but the large slab of rock peppered with holes used to grind acorns and other seeds into meal is interesting (photo). In the trees around the grinding rock I saw a pretty Bullock's Oriole and a number of flycatchers I had to leave unidentified.

I mostly tasted wine at wineries along Shenandoah Rd., just north of Plymouth, in Amador County, and then along Fair Play Rd., at Fair Play, in El Dorado County, staying the night at Fitzpatrick Winery and Inn, on Fair Play Rd., a log building on a hill with a panoramic view of the surrounding vineyards (photo). I enjoyed the spacious room and especially the excellent complimentary breakfast--I had "green eggs" (eggs with spinach) with smoked salmon on top. Had a good evening meal at the Gold Vine Grill, a few miles down the road. I tasted a decent Syrah at Fitzpatrick, but the standout in the area was Skinner, where I tried a truly delicious Grenache and an excellent, Rousanne-Marsanne-Viognier blend, among others--all good. Cedarville came highly recommended, but was closed.

Along Shenandoah Rd., near Plymouth, in Amador County, I tasted wines at Vino Noceto (which is making some very good high-end Sangiovese wines available only at the winery), at Cooper (generally good across the board, but with a certain sameness, and nothing that really excited me--although the Pinot Grigio was quite solid and the tasting room was very attractive and friendly, certainly worth a visit), and at Karmére (overall, the best wines I tasted in the immediate area)--barely scratching the surface. My wine tasting in Amador and El Dorado Counties turned out to be a short familiarization tour. I'd like to go back to do it more methodically at another opportunity.

I got up at 6:00AM after the night at Fitzpatrick and took a walk around the vineyards to look for birds. There was quite a lot of activity. There were many Lark Sparrows (photo), several warblers that got away too quickly to identify, an Ash-throated Flycatcher, Lesser Goldfinches, Western Bluebirds, many Acorn Woodpeckers (feasting on a termite nest along with Kingbirds, Flickers, and a couple of Western Scrub-jays), and an odd bunting-like bird that must have been a Lazuli Bunting but too blue and without the usual russet at the breast (colored like an Indigo Bunting, but with a pale breast)--one of those head-scratchers. Taken as a whole, an excellent little trip.

Wines I'm Growing: Sulfur Spraying Yet Again (2011)

After our bizarre end-of-June storm (0.8 inches of rain) it was necessary to go out this morning again to spray the grape vines with sulfur. A layer of sulfur prevents mildew from forming on the plants or the grapes. Bad mildew can make the grapes useless. The vineyard is so small (34 vines) that any loss of fruit is significant, so I do my best to prevent it. Let us hope that we have no more rain now until after harvest, probably in early October. As is evident from the photo, the grapes are well on their way to forming clusters.

Rain: Real Rain at the End of June (June 28, 2011)

Unless you live in northern California, you won't understand why the title of the this brief post is startling. Any rain in June is unusual here. To have a full-blown downpour is startling indeed. With only two more days to go in the 2010-2011 rainy season (our rainy seasons officially start on July 1 and end on June 30 of the following year; the 2011-2012 season will start in a couple of days), we've had nearly an inch of rain (0.8 inches), bringing the 2010-2011 total at my house to 41.05 inches, well above the historic average annual rainfall in Santa Rosa, which is just under 32 inches. Only a couple days ago I sprayed our grapes with sulfur (to prevent mildew) for what I had hoped would be the last time this season, but I'll have to do it all over again, as soon as things dry out again....

Found Art: Painted Tree Trunk, Calistoga (June 27, 2011)

On a recent trip to Calistoga and some of the other small towns in the area, I took a walk around the grounds of the Indian Springs resort. Big palm trees are planted all around the property. The bases have all been painted white. I liked the texture, the shadows. Found Art.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Books I'm Reading: God is Not Great

I just finished reading God is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, by Christopher Hitchens (originally published by Twelve: Hatchette Publishing Group, 2007, but I read the paperback edition of 2009). This is a book that until recently had escaped my notice. I picked it up, remaindered, a while back, not really knowing anything about it, simply because the title was provocative. I realize now that it must have got a lot of press when it was new and it seems to have stirred up quite a bit of controversy--although I don't really see why. So much of what author Hitchens says about religion here seems self-evident to me, needing little elaboration, but I acknowledge that many people do believe strongly in the stories that religions tell and that there does seem to be a powerful innate human tendency to need some sort of belief system. Hitchens acknowledges the same, but doesn't allow that to keep him from pointing out the many ludicrous things religions ask their adherents to swallow. Perhaps the most interesting angle was an attempt the author makes to look at religion from a purely moral perspective. He asks whether, all in all, people have behaved better or worse because of religion, and he comes down firmly on the side of secular humanism, not religion.

Unabashedly atheist, Hitchens pulls no punches for anyone. He happily insults all religions equally, not even failing to skewer Buddhism, which has always seemed to me the most benign of the major religions (note, however, that the book focuses on the three main monotheistic religions). Well written, well argued, entertaining. Recommended. The problem is, this book will do nothing to convince the true believer--it will only annoy and anger the religious--while, to the confirmed atheist, it will likely seem a series of arguments that hardly need to be made. Perhaps this book will be of most use to the undecided fence-sitter that needs a kick in the pants to finally abandon all hope.

For more book reviews, use the "Books I'm Reading" tab at the upper right

Wines I'm Making: Sulfur Spraying (2011)

Today I finally judged it safe to spray the grapes with sulfur for what I hope will be the last time this season, although one more application may be prudent. I had been waiting for the vines to finish flowering and for the fruit to set before getting them wet. The Sangiovese looks excellent this year, with full clusters of tiny grapes already coming along, but the Cabernet vines don't seem to have set fruit very well despite my waiting. I had rather hoped for a good crop this year, as the weather was mostly dry and windy during flowering, but it's still early to judge things. Anyway, so far no signs of mildew on the vines. I topped the most vigorous vines as well, as they were beginning to shade the back row. Keeping my fingers crossed.

Birds I'm Watching: Beautiful Loons at Bodega Bay

On two trips to Bodega Bay recently I've found a small group of Common Loons huddled in the late evening at the north end of Bodega Harbor. They seem to disperse during the day. Two of the birds were in full breeding plumage, which is fairly unusual for this location. Only a few Common Loons stay in the area over the summer, and they usually retain their non-breeding "winter" plumage when they do stay, for reasons I don't quite understand. So, it was a pleasure to see this one so handsomely attired. There were about six others, in the drab non-breeding plumage along with about a dozen Western Grebes and a single Greater Scaup. Further south in the harbor was a Horned Grebe, also in full breeding plumage, again something that's comparatively uncommon in Sonoma County.

 For more information about bird watching in Sonoma County, see my Website Sonoma County Bird Watching Spots.

Tidbits: RIP--Peter Falk

I just read that actor Peter Falk died today. He was 83. I remember watching him as Lt. Columbo on TV in the US when Columbo was new. Later, dubbed TV shows like Columbo helped me learn a great deal of Japanese when I first went to Japan as an exchange student. I hope they bury him in that old raincoat. RIP

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Opuntia Elata, Chitalpa Tashkentensis

First blooms of 2011 today on the Chitalpa tree in the back garden and first blooms yesterday, June 21, on the large cactus, Opuntia elata, a type of prickly pear with unusual orange flowers. It is originally a native of Argentina. I have no record of the first bloom last year, as I was away in Europe, but Opuntia elata bloomed on June 4 in 2009.

The Chitalpa is a small tree that resembles a Catalpa tree, which is logical as one of the two parents of this hybrid is the Catalpa (Catalpa bignoniodes). The other is the Desert Willow (Chilopsis linearis). These small trees are fairly drought-tolerant and look very attractive at most times of the year. The flowers attract hummingbirds. The Chitalpa tree in my garden bloomed on June 1 in 2009. I have no record for this plant for 2010.

Art I'm Looking At: Romare Bearden at The Museum of the African Diaspora

Romare Bearden is an artist I've been aware of and liked since the 1970s. I don't remember where I first saw his work, but I was immediately drawn to it, particularly the collages, for which he remains best known. I suspect it was not seeing an original in a museum or gallery that first made we aware of Bearden (although it may have been) but rather seeing a reproduction--possibly an illustration in an article, and likely not one about Bearden himself. Bearden's pictures tell stories; and because of that, they are particularly good as illustrations. We have too many opportunities to see them reproduced as embellishments tacked on to other stories, it seems to me, and too few to see the originals standing on their own. This show is notable for bringing together many originals in one place and also for showing less well known work. The Romare Bearden show "From Process to Print: Graphic Works by Romare Bearden," which runs through July 3 at the Museum of the African Diaspora (685 Mission St., San Francisco, around the corner from SF MOMA (415) 358-7200), focuses on Bearden's printmaking.

As a printmaker myself, I enjoyed seeing the wide range of techniques on view and the emphasis on how Bearden used the printmaking process to explore. There are monotypes, etchings, drypoints, etchings with aquatint, lithographs, silkscreen prints, and collagraphs here, along with some of the plates from which the prints were made. Having used many of these techniques myself (all except lithography), I had no trouble understanding the explanatory panels, but they were in places a bit unclear, and in one instance mistaken (with "intaglio" used where "relief print" would have been correct). The images, however, speak for themselves. They range from work of the early 1960s to work made nearer the artist's death, in 1988. In a few instances, Bearden has exploited the inherent qualities of the technique--for example, in etchings using only the fine lines that etching excels at capturing. Ultimately, however, Bearden appears to have been most comfortable with the synthetic approach of collage. Many of the prints are, in fact, experiments with methods for translating collage into a printed form, and many have had collage elements added after the fact. It's not surprising either that collography appealed to Bearden. A collagraph is essentially a print made from a plate that is itself a collage. To be able to see the master collage artist thinking through the possibilities of the various forms of printmaking is fascinating. Recommended.

Music I'm Listening To: Michael Tilson Thomas Conducting the San Francisco Symphony, Yuja Wang Soloist (June 17, 2011)

I attended the June 17 evening performance of the San Francisco Symphony, a concert conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas and featuring pianist Yuja Wang. The program included Bartok's Rumanian Folk Dances, the Bartok Piano Concerto No. 2, and a suite of pieces from Tchaikovsky's music for Swan Lake. I was able to attend the pre-concert talk, having earlier in the day gone to the Museum of the African Diaspora to see the Romare Bearden show currently there. It was useful to hear some of the Rumanian Dances in versions for solo piano during the talk. While charming in the orchestrated versions the symphony played, they have a simplicity and clarity on the piano that is lost when played by an ensemble.

You could almost hear a collective gasp when, following the Rumanian Dances, Yuja Wang walked out on stage wearing a very short, clinging, vermillion dress with black venting and a bold V-shaped black design on the back--a dress so short and tight that there would have been a scandal if people were scandalized by such things any more. My mother, who also attended the performance, got it right, I think, when she said the dress looked more like a bathing suit. Four-inch platform heels added to the effect. One wonders if platforms are the best choice for using the pedals on a piano, but I assume Ms. Wang knows what works and what doesn't. The outfit was a distraction, however, if not an entirely unpleasant one.

The Bartok Piano Concerto No. 2 requires a great deal of energy, particularly in its opening and concluding movements, an energy Wang appears to have in abundance. While her playing was fast, powerful, and precise, and I enjoyed the performance on the whole, it didn't quite gel in places, with Thomas allowing the orchestra to completely overwhelm the piano here, and letting the opposite happen there, particularly in the first movement. The slow, brooding second movement was most effective. Thomas always seems wildly inconsistent to me (see below).

The ballet music that followed intermission, however, was nearly perfect. I can't really imagine a more persuasive performance. Thomas, as usual, seemed aloof while on the podium, but there was a tightness between the musicians and the conductor in this case that resulted in a clean, neat performance that let the music speak without any obstruction. As usual in San Francisco, the woodwind section stood out, particularly the flute in this case. There were a number of well-played solos by one of the trumpets as well. Evidently the audience agreed with me. As Thomas was acknowledging individual musicians after the performance, the flute and trumpet got particularly enthusiastic applause. The concert was worth it just for the Tchaikovsky.

Photo of Yuja Wang by Felix Broede, courtesy of the San Francisco Symphony

Wines I'm Making: 2010 Sangiovese Rosé Bottling (Second Batch)

Yesterday I bottled the second batch of 2010 rosé I made from our Sangiovese grapes. This second batch was something of an experiment, but, apparently, an at least moderately successful one. The summer of 2010 was very cool, but punctuated by a couple of intense heat spells that ruined a lot of grapes (many growers pulled leaves to increase sun exposure, hoping to encourage what had been very slow ripening caused by the otherwise cool weather, only to see their crop then hit by sudden heat that destroyed the exposed berries). The fruit that survived the short hot spells often ripened poorly. Our Sangiovese, a case in point, came in with very low sugar and less-than-optimally developed flavors.

I made rosé from the grapes using my usual method (about 19 hours on the skins), and that produced a pleasant, but very light wine that lacks the interest of the excellent, flavorful rosé I made with our 2009 grapes. As usual, I hated to throw away the pressed skins from the initial batch, which seemed to have a great deal of pulp and juice still attached. I therefore tried a second-run fermentation. That is, I added water and sugar back into the pressings to ferment a second wine--not expecting much success from it (I've made some dismal red wine this way). I left the mixture to soak for more than two days, partly because I wasn't especially interested in it, but that proved to be a good thing. This second-run wine that I've just bottled (and sampled for the first time) is quite acceptable--better than I'd hoped for. Having said that, it's not great. I think the lesson here is not that making second-run wine (which seems like cheating) is a good thing, but rather that in very lean years, like 2010, it pays to give rosé a much longer maceration than would normally be appropriate. Having said that, I'm not going to sneeze at the additional 25 bottles of wine my experiment yielded.

Art I'm Looking At: 2011 Art at the Source

Art at the Source is one of two major open studio events that allow artists working in Sonoma County to show and sell art directly to the public from their places of work.  Both events are held annually on a pair of weekends. Today, Sunday, June 12 was the last day of Art at the Source showings. Art Trails, the other local open studio event is held on two weekends in the fall, in October.

As usual, I got a late start on the last day, so only got to see about 15 artists--and that many mostly because I headed first for The Barracks, which brings a large number of artists together under one roof (in buildings that once were barracks at a naval air station on the western edge of Santa Rosa).

I particularly enjoyed the assemblage work of Maris Peach (www.marispeach.com), paintings by Suzanne Edminster (www.saltworkstudio.net) and by Karina Nishi Marcus, and the hat block collection of hatmaker Amy Smith at Flying Color Studios. These open studio weekends are wonderful for the way they bring artists and the public into direct contact, but also for the chance meetings among art lovers they may engender. In Maris Peach's studio, I enjoyed talking with the artist about her work, about a little girl that found these doll parts frightening, and with a man--whose name I didn't catch--about  T. E. Lawrence and The Seven Pillars of Wisdom; later I enjoyed meeting a young photographer (a visitor, not an exhibitor) named Gwen that shared my eye for unintended art. An excellent way to bring art to the community and to bring the community to art.

The photo above is part of Maris Peach's extensive collection of the odds and ends she uses to make her assemblages; the strings of doll appendages immediately caught my eye. The bottom photo is part of the large collection of hat forms I found in the studio of Amy Smith--unintended art, but beautiful nonetheless. But Ms. Smith is not just a collector of hat blocks, she's a hatmaker that puts the forms to excellent use making all manner of interesting headgear.

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Penstemon, Cleveland Sage, Teucrium, Coreopsis

Because of the recent late rains, which discouraged walking around the garden, and a fair amount of work in the past few days I've missed the first blooms of 2011 on quite a number of flowers, but I note here that in the past week the red penstemon under the apple tree, several varieties of coreopsis, coyote mint, Cleveland sage (upper photo; I believe this variety is "Allan Chickering"), and the low-growing Teucrium cossonii have all come into bloom. The prettiest time of the year has been extended this year by cool weather and rain.

Found Art: Floor Sockets, San Francisco MOMA, June 10, 2011

I was at San Francisco MOMA on Tuesday. I enjoyed seeing the current shows and some of the permanent collection. After seeing what there was to see, I walked around the building a little. I came across these covered brass floor sockets (at least, that's what I think they are). Found art.

For more found art, see my blog Serendipitous Art.

Wines I'm Making: A Dilemma

Finally, the weather has cleared. It now seems safe to say that summer is here and that the chance of further rains is negligible. Time to spray the grapes again with sulfur to prevent mold from forming on the plants. With that in mind I went out to inspect the small vineyard out back yesterday and was both happy and dismayed to see that the vines are in full bloom (grape flowers are not much to look at, but without them there would be no grapes and no wine). The problem is, spraying the vines while in bloom runs the risk of seriously reducing fruit set. That's to be avoided, but the vines do need protection. I've decided to wait, however, as the weather remains fairly cool, there is still some sulfur on the vines (not ALL of it was washed away by the rains), and there has been a decent breeze the past few days. I will wait until flowering is finished to spray. I hope that will prove to have been the right decision.

Art I'm Looking At: The Allure of the Decoy

Going to the San Francisco Airport is almost always a pleasure. I can't remember a time I've visited the place when there wasn't an interesting exhibit or two going on in the International Terminal departure area. I was at the airport yesterday and very much enjoyed seeing a show of some very fine duck decoys. They ranged from crude facsimiles made from milk cartons to finely carved wooden sculptures painted beautifully to look like specific duck and goose species--I counted 18 distinct species. The best of what's on view rises to the level of sculptural art. Well worth a visit if you have business at the airport. The show, entitled "The Allure of the Decoy" will continue through November. Highly Recommended. In the photo above are two American Wigeon decoys (background) and two Canvasback decoys.

Rain: Yet More Rain (June 3-6, 2011)

A final (one hopes) storm of 2011 has passed through the area, dropping another 1.10 inches on us in the past couple of days. That brings our 2010-2011 total to an amazing 40.25 inches. The historical average for Santa Rosa is 31.9 inches. This has been the coolest, wettest spring in the 10 years I've lived here.

Wines I'm Drinking: 2008 Evergreen Vineyards "Spruce Goose" Oregon Pinot Gris

Here's another bargain from Grocery Outlet, the 2008 Evergreen Vineyards "Spruce Goose" Oregon Pinot Gris. A pretty, pale gold in the glass, it offered a nose suggesting green apples and limes, but with something musky going on in the background. Unlike some Pinot Gris, the Spruce Goose has a little presence--seeming at first fruity and sweet (the sweetness of fruit, not cloying sugar--although this does have some residual sugar) and then tangy, with a lingering finish that reminded me of a nice, tart lemonade (just barely sweet, refreshingly acidic). The tartness lingers for quite a while on the tongue. As with most wines in this price range, the Spruce Goose Pinot Gris is in no way profound, but I'd call it acceptable for everyday occasions. Attractively priced at $5.99 at Grocery Outlet in Santa Rosa. This is the sort of wine I like to have on hand for gatherings. It's sufficiently interesting to please wine enthusiasts in an informal setting (that is, in a setting that's not about the wine), but not the sort of thing I'd regret opening for people who don't really appreciate wine. I went back for a few bottles.

[Update: I subsequently tried the 2009 Spruce Goose Oregon Pinot Noir, but that wine was of little interest. Inexpensive Pinot Noir is rarely worth the money, and this wine was no exception.]

I have no financial connection with any producer or retailer of wine. 

For more wine reviews, use the Wines I'm Drinking label.

Places I'm Visiting: Grover Hot Spring, Near Markleeville, California (May 28-30, 2011)

Spent the long weekend camping at Grover Hot Springs, in Alpine County, which is in the eastern Sierra Nevada Mountains, about 30 miles south of Lake Tahoe. The trip was booked in February. Who would have expected snow? That's what we got--about three inches. Had to use chains to get to the campground. The high over the weekend was about 45, the lows were well below freezing. It reminded me of may days as a Boy Scout, camping in the winters of southern Ohio. It was cold, yes, but nothing a good campfire, friends, and a few bottles of wine had trouble curing.

I was able to do a little walking by myself, getting up on the last morning at about 6:00AM to see what birds might be around. The highlight was getting to see a pair of American Dippers--a fairly uncommon and elusive bird, a life bird for me that brings my total to a modest 334. Bizarrely, Dippers swim underwater, using their wings the way penguins do. They can dive to as much as 20 feet and walk along the bottom of swift streams moving with enough force to knock a person down. They seemed quite content to hunt for the insect larvae they feed on in water that would have been frozen if it hadn't been moving. They have specially adapted nostrils that close underwater and a third eyelid that protects the eye under water. When a Dipper blinks, its eye appears to turn white momentarily. Very interesting to see these birds diving and swimming and zipping up and down the river channel at high speed. The Dipper even sings with a wren-like voice that was audible over the roar of the rushing water.

Here and there amongst the pine needles I kept seeing red blobs that turned out to be plants poking up out of the ground. I looked them up. They appear to be called Snow Plant (Sarcodes sanguinea), uncommon and native to conifer forests of the Northwest. It is called Snow Plant because it typically appears as the last snows are melting. Snow Plant is mycotrophic. That is, it has no chlorophyll of its own. Instead of synthesizing its own food, as most plants do, Snow Plant gets nutrients from the mycorrhizae (or "fungus roots") that many conifers have--essentially, very fine mycelia (fungus filaments) that bring nutrients to the tree, which in turn provides food for the fungus. Snow Plant taps into this system. My photo shows a Snow Plant just pushing up through the leaf litter. This "bud" will open up into a stalk about a foot high with tightly packed bell-shaped flowers, each with five fused petals. This plant is in the Indian Pipe family (Monotropaceae), related to the heathers (Ericaceae).

Rain: More Rain (May 31-June 1, 2011)

Well, I was wrong. The rain of a few days ago was not the last rain of the season. Since then, another 0.50 inches has fallen, it's still raining, and rain is forecast for the rest of the week. I'll have to leave the grapes until the rain stops and then spray them with sulfur again. I hope the rain won't affect flowering and fruit set too badly. Rain this late in the season is rare, but not unheard of. By the end of the week it looks like rainfall in the 2010-2011 season may have topped 40 inches (the historical average for Santa Rosa is 31.9 inches), making this one of the wettest years in a long time. As of the end of June 1, our total was 39.15 inches.

Plants I'm growing: First Blooms--Aloe Striatula (2011)

First blooms this past Friday (May 27) on the Aloe striatula in the garden (below the kitchen window). This has been one of the most successful of the aloes I've planted here. It was growing nearby when we moved in, so I was pretty certain it would do well--and it has--but it tends to get a bit leggy. Cut back severely, it seems happy enough to sprout new growth, so the time has probably come to take cuttings.

Aloe striatula bloomed on May 17 in 2009 and on June 4 in 2010, calculating botanical years (from first bloom to first bloom) of 383 days and of 357 days.

Found Art: Green Shed with Insulator, Santa Rosa, May 31, 2011

On a walk around the Santa Rosa Rural Cemetery not long ago, I found this little scene on the side of a green shed. It looked like a collage or a small sculpture. Found art.

For more found art, see my blog Seren-dipitous Art.

Wines I'm Drinking: 2005 Beni di Batasiolo "Serbato" Langhe Chardonnay

I recently tasted a 2003 Chardonnay from Beni di Batasiolo that I thought interesting but a little over the hill. This is a different bottling from the same producer, from a more recent vintage--the 2005 "Serbato" Langhe Chardonnay. Both wines are from Italy's Piedmont region, the home of better known wines such as Barolo and Barbaresco. Tasting notes below.

A pretty yellow-gold, clear and brilliant. Scents of lemons, wood, and manure. Yes, "manure," but not at all unpleasant. [Perhaps that's a bit harsh. Let's say lemons, wood, and musky animal scents rather than manure.] Lemon and honey on the palate. Bright acidity. Much fresher than its older stable-mate (see above). Sweet on the mid-palate with a nice lemony tartness lingering on a fairly long finish. Conceptually, lemon and musk may be a challenge to reconcile, but we happily consume all manner of meats with lemon squeezed on them, and this wine had something about it that reminded me of lemon chicken--not the sticky, yellow-dyed horrors that pass for lemon chicken in the Chinese restaurants of shopping mall food courts--but a real lemon chicken made with love and fresh ingredients (fond memories of Yaik Sang on Lockhart Rd. in Hong Kong years ago). The "Serbato" Chardonnay is not especially nuanced or profound, but, at only $3.99 a bottle at Grocery Outlet, this is a good value for everyday occasions. I'm likely to buy a few bottles to have on hand for those hot summer days that must surely be on the way.

I have no financial connection with any producer or retailer of wine.

For more wine reviews, use the Wines I'm Drinking label.

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Day Lilies, Salvia Nemorosa, Pink Phlomis

First blooms of 2011 yesterday on several plants in the garden. The first day lilies bloomed, the deep orange ones under the white Japanese plum tree. Salvia nemorosa bloomed, and the first flowers appeared on the large pink Phlomis by the dwarf nectarine tree. I don't know the name of the day lily any more, but it's one I chose because it reminds me of the day lilies that bloomed at my grandmother's house in Dayton, Ohio. There was a whole bank of them there. This one is a little different--the shape of the petals is wrong (too brunt at teh tips)--but the color is very close.

Salvia nemorosa is not one of my favorite salvias. Generally I prefer the larger salvias to the small ones that grow from a mass of basal leaves, but this one has proved sturdy and reliable. I believe it's called "May Night." The Phlomis is another plant that I've last track of the species name of, but this is a large-leaved variety with pink flowers rather than the usual deep yellow. It may be Phlomis purpurea, or Phlomis lanata.

Rain: Final Rain of the Season? (May 24-25, 2011)

We got another half inch of rain last night and this morning, which is very late in the season for us, but by no means unheard of. The new rain brings our total for the 2010-2011 rainy season to 38.6 inches, which is well above the average annual rainfall for Santa Rosa historically, which has been 31.9 inches. That means I'll have to get out there yet again to spray the grape vines with sulfur, to prevent mold, although it's been so cool and windy that the conditions haven't really been the sort that promote mold.

[Update: A bit of drizzle followed this, adding another 0.05 inches to the total, so we are now at 38.65 inches for the year.]

Plants I'm Growing: First Blooms--Dudleya, Salvia, Gaura, Echium (2011)

A number of plants came into bloom in the garden yesterday and today. Yesterday, Dudleya cymosa, a native succulent that normally clings to steep rock faces (growing here in a stone wall), and a large lavender and white salvia that unfortunately I've forgotten the species name of. The Dudleya bloomed on May 20 in 2010, so it has calculated a botanical year of 367 days. The salvia, whatever it is, bloomed on May 17 in 2010, calculating a year of 360 days.

Today brought first blooms of 2011 on Gaura lindheimeri, and Echium boissieri. Gaura is a delicate pink or white flower native to Texas and Louisiana that seems to do well here in our dry summer climate. Echium Boissieri is native to Spain. It's a comparatively rare Echium here. I bought a couple years ago and haven't seen it in the nurseries since, but, if left to go to seed, it reliably produces new seedlings every year. Like many of the Echiums, it's a biennial, producing a rosette of leaves in the first year, a tall flower stalk in the second year. The garden is just about at its peak now.

The Gaura bloomed on May 30 in 2010, for a year of 358 days. Echium Boissieri bloomed on May 20 in 2009 and on May 18 in 2010, calculating botanical years of 363 days and 370 days.

Wines I'm Drinking: 2008 Seigneur Jean-de-Roze St. Chinian Cinsault Rosé

I picked up a few bottles of a 2008 St. Chinian Cinsault Rosé last week at Grocery Outlet in Santa Rosa. It caught my eye immediately because I spent about 12 weeks in the south of France last summer, about a 30-minute drive east of St. Chinian. The weather was very, very hot, which often called for well-chilled, light, refreshing local wines very much like this one, so I had to give it a try. Tasting notes follow.

A very pretty orange-tinted strawberry color. Many rosé wines from this area have something of the color of brandy in them--perhaps appropriate especially in the case of the St. Chinian wines, which also tend to have a little brandy on the nose. Very pretty in the glass. The wine was not especially forthcoming at first, but it had a fresh, clean fruitiness that eventually began to suggest red raspberries, strawberries, and cranberries. Later there were some caramel scents--the typical St. Chinian "brandy" note. Light and clean on the palate, at first seeming a bit too light, but with a good rush of fruitiness on the mid-palate and with plenty of balancing acidity.

Cinsault rosé wines from this part of the world are nothing profound--in some cases they lack substance--but they have their own charm. They are crisp, clean, comparatively low in alcohol, and very refreshing with food on a warm summer evening. This wine, the Seigneur Jean-de-Roze bottling from the Cave des Vignerons de Saint Chinian, is typical. Remarkably, it was less expensive here than I was paying for comparable wines in France. I suspect this offering simply didn't sell well and it got sold off in quantity to Grocery Outlet; the name St. Chinian is unfamiliar to wine drinkers here (although it ought to be less so) and Cinsault is a fairly obscure grape. Well, all the more for me. By the case, only $2.69 a bottle--needless to say, a bargain.

I have no financial connections with any producer or retailer of wine.

For more reviews, use the "Wines I'm Drinking" label at top right

Wines I'm Making: Third Sulfur Spraying (2011)

Yesterday I sprayed the vines with sulfur again following the heavy rains we had a few days earlier, hoping to get a layer of dust on again, to prevent mildew. I brought up the drop wires to hold the canes in place. Everything looks good, so far. The weather remains cool, so I don't expect mold to be much of a problem, but better safe than sorry.

[Update: Because of more rain, I had to spray the grapes for a fourth time this season on May 28.]