Aesthetics in practice

Philosophy and Religious Studies does wine-tasting in Paso:

As the end of the quarter finally arrives, it’s time for the Philosophy Department oenophiles to do some tasting, before heading up to join our friend Jim (who actually knows what he’s doing) to rack our own cabernet sauvignon that we’re making, the 2006 Painted Ceiling (name to be explained in a later post). Leaving SLO on a typically gorgeous sunny 75 degree afternoon, we drove north over the grade to start the afternoon at Cass Winery, northeast of Atascadero and southeast of Paso Robles. After traversing confusing and winding back roads for a while, we finally arrived; with a Putomayo collection of CDs playing and various expensive drawings hanging from the walls underneath a mammoth red sail from someone’s luxury boat over the bar, the tasting room was designed to give off an expensive ambience. We actually sat outside on a lovely shaded patio for the tasting. Too bad the wine didn’t live up to the surroundings. The whites were decent – a Tablas Creek style Rhone blend and a decent Viognier, but the Mourvedre and Grenache were horrid, and the Syrah, while clearly the best of the lot, was merely average.

The person pouring at Cass was very helpful, however, and recommended trying Still Waters next. So we headed there, and were immediately impressed on the drive in with the 100-year-old olive grove overlooking a 60-acre vineyard, with little trails for walking, a small cottage, and a lawn with bocce balls outside the tasting room – it was truly an idyllic little scene. Inside, a beautiful former Poly student ascertained we weren’t big on whites, but still had us collectively try the Viognier, Chardonnay, Pinot Gris, and Sauvignon Blanc – all very solid. Then the reds – a Merlot that was actually quite drinkable was the first sign we had stumbled on an excellent winery. The zinfandel was actually very tasty (and I'm not a big zin fan), and was the only non-estate wine; the cabernet sauvignon and syrah were quite good, and their special cabernet-syrah-merlot blend, Reflections (2003), was enough to get me to think about joining the wine club. That, and the incredible olive oil we were snarfing down the entire time – grassy and pungent and absolutely delicious, I think we must have gone through most of a baguette with it! She brought out a Malbec at the end, and that and the Reflections were the best things we had tried. I’m definitely going back to Still Waters.

Next, we drove carefully through Paso to the Garretson Wine Company, where we tried several Syrahs, including "The Luascáin" (90 points, Robert Parker), "The Aisling" (92 points), and "Mon Amie" (94 points), a Grenache and Mourvedre, as well as their flagship blend, "The Reliquary". But despite the snooty praise of Robert Parker (and corresponding prices), I thought only the "Mon Amie" compared to what we had drunk at Still Waters, and my departmental compatriots thought not even that. But our pourer was extremely cordial, and related that (despite no ambition to become a major winemaker herself) she had made her own Grenache, which her co-workers termed “Wet Monkey” – at least, that was their nicest name for it! We nonetheless expressed curiousity, and she brought out an unlabelled bottle of it for us to try. What do you know – I thought it was the second best thing there (after "Mon Amie"), and everyone else thought it was the best! Flattered, and having found out it was Paul’s birthday, our pourer generously gave us the rest of the bottle for use at our racking later. However, it never made it that far.

Dinnertime was almost upon us, but we quickly stopped at Falcon’s Nest, a new winery run by an immigrant Italian with an attitude, and his wife, who would turn around to make odd comments and tell us to swirl our wine in our glass sideways, all while searching the ‘Big Lots’ website. It was an odd place – and looked a bit like a place one shouldn’t stop in a Western horror movie. And the wine itself was, well, awful – well, everyone except Todd thought so, and we’ve established he is most favorable to Italian style reds amongst us. So, in an attempt to quickly cleanse our palates, we hurried back to downtown Paso for dinner at a fabulous new place, Artisan. We realized that the Grenache our friend at Garretson gave us would be a splendid dinner wine, so we enjoyed it with a truly elegant meal; after a magnificent appetizer of crusty bread, spicy sausage, and a porter ale and gouda fondue-like dip, for a main course I had a terrific sirloin with spinach and shoestring potatoes, while Steve had a Kobe steak, Paul a venison Wellington, and Todd a scrumptious chicken breast and spinach. All were most pleased.

Afterwards, Todd returned home while the rest of us drove on to join Jim and begin the racking, at the workhouse of another Italian immigrant, Ciro (a terrific breadmaker) and his wife Kim. Lugging huge glass jars and washing and testing and adding wood chips and testing and more washing and… well, a few hours later, we were finally through; Ciro and Kim had invited us to come on up to the main house for a drink and a chat afterward. We brought a bottle of our newly racked wine and ascended the hill, through perilous hairpin turns until the gate opened and we saw what must be one of the best views west of Paso Robles. We entered what looked like a large Italian villa, with a magnificent backyard view over the wooded valley below, although it could not quite make out the ocean (there’s another mountain ridge in the way), but could see a glimpse of Hearst Castle, many miles away. Under the gathering stars, we drank and ate and listened to Ciro attempt to explain in English his views on BTUs and a life force – none of us quite sure what he was saying, but feeling as if he was a poet anyway. We looked through his telescope – outside the city, the stars and planets are so much more visible – and marveled at the craters of the Moon. Finally, full of good food, drink, and company, we headed back to SLO, remembering there’s a reason many call the Central Coast region “Paradise.”