The Feiring Line

Alice and Green Wine ...and

..why she hates the whole genre. Now that big biz is buying up every winery in sight, I'm all for the giants reducing their hoggy carbon footprint and inch towards non-chemical growing practice. I'll also be delighted to see them reduce the weight on those ego-driven, hefty, mine is bigger than yours bottle. But I am so annoyed by this whole, "Kiss Me I'm GREEN," campaign. Of course grapes should be grown from sensible vineyards that are at least organic, but the GREEN GRAPE focus begs the question of what is in the bottle? Yeasts? Enzymes? Tannin. DeAlking? Reaciding? Ultrafiltrating and other acts flavor and taste altering machines? GREEN is a pretty color but when it comes to wine, it means nothing. On May 5th, the First International Green Wine Competition , is to be held in California. There are four categories for submission, concerned with the way the grapes are grown. This has caused a stir on the Decanter.com website, where several winemakers, including Doug Tunnel (who will be with me on the Portland Indie wine festival�s panel, �How Natural is Natural, May 2nd) weighed in with outrage that a GREEN wine competition had a 'transitional' category which also allows "Oregon LIVE and Certified Salmon Safe programs"--which are sustainable. Sustainable agriculture allows chemicals. Another protester likened the sustainable inclusion to 'being a little pregnant.� Agreed. Agreed. Then there is the Biodynamic grape category. That one bugged me. The rules state that wines that use GMO yeast would be disqualified. Does this mean one can enter a wine in the organic category and use GMO? (By the way, no industrial yeast is allowed in Biodynamic wine.) But the one that really got me all riled up was: Class 4: Natural (International Imports Only) International wines made from grapes farmed without the use of chemicals. This category is open to International Imports ONLY. It is intended for those within the International community who has traditionally farmed without the use of chemicals, but who have not sought certification. Wineries entering Class 4 must sign an affidavit (provided with the Class 4 Entry Form) that they do indeed farm their grapes without the use of chemicals of any kind. Wineries found to misrepresent themselves under these guidelines will be disqualified. + Besides the fact that the Vin Naturel movement is alive and strong and bears no relation to their category, there is also the ironic language: "traditionally farmed without the use of chemicals." Where the irony? In the Old World 'traditional' farming refers to farming WITH chemicals. In general, I don't like the idea of wine competitions. In fact, I always had trouble with competition. When I was in summer camp I boycotted Color War. But if you're going to do something like this, hell, do it right. Do it honestly. Don�t help along the usage of GREEN as a smokescreen for the wine industry. Find out what the deal is and don't hide behind ignorance, or the question might be raised, as I do here, that perhaps what is at play is ignorance that is willful.

Alice and Green Wine ...and

..why she hates the whole genre. Now that big biz is buying up every winery in sight, I'm all for the giants reducing their hoggy carbon footprint and inch towards non-chemical growing practice. I'll also be delighted to see them reduce the weight on those ego-driven, hefty, mine is bigger than yours bottle. But I am so annoyed by this whole, "Kiss Me I'm GREEN," campaign. Of course grapes should be grown from sensible vineyards that are at least organic, but the GREEN GRAPE focus begs the question of what is in the bottle? Yeasts? Enzymes? Tannin. DeAlking? Reaciding? Ultrafiltrating and other acts flavor and taste altering machines? GREEN is a pretty color but when it comes to wine, it means nothing. On May 5th, the First International Green Wine Competition , is to be held in California. There are four categories for submission, concerned with the way the grapes are grown. This has caused a stir on the Decanter.com website, where several winemakers, including Doug Tunnel (who will be with me on the Portland Indie wine festival�s panel, �How Natural is Natural, May 2nd) weighed in with outrage that a GREEN wine competition had a 'transitional' category which also allows "Oregon LIVE and Certified Salmon Safe programs"--which are sustainable. Sustainable agriculture allows chemicals. Another protester likened the sustainable inclusion to 'being a little pregnant.� Agreed. Agreed. Then there is the Biodynamic grape category. That one bugged me. The rules state that wines that use GMO yeast would be disqualified. Does this mean one can enter a wine in the organic category and use GMO? (By the way, no industrial yeast is allowed in Biodynamic wine.) But the one that really got me all riled up was: Class 4: Natural (International Imports Only) International wines made from grapes farmed without the use of chemicals. This category is open to International Imports ONLY. It is intended for those within the International community who has traditionally farmed without the use of chemicals, but who have not sought certification. Wineries entering Class 4 must sign an affidavit (provided with the Class 4 Entry Form) that they do indeed farm their grapes without the use of chemicals of any kind. Wineries found to misrepresent themselves under these guidelines will be disqualified. + Besides the fact that the Vin Naturel movement is alive and strong and bears no relation to their category, there is also the ironic language: "traditionally farmed without the use of chemicals." Where the irony? In the Old World 'traditional' farming refers to farming WITH chemicals. In general, I don't like the idea of wine competitions. In fact, I always had trouble with competition. When I was in summer camp I boycotted Color War. But if you're going to do something like this, hell, do it right. Do it honestly. Don�t help along the usage of GREEN as a smokescreen for the wine industry. Find out what the deal is and don't hide behind ignorance, or the question might be raised, as I do here, that perhaps what is at play is ignorance that is willful.

The Dashe Connection

So, Mike Dashe, known for his zinfandel (his riesling is pretty damned good) catches my expression, which I imagine was dazed and confused. He gets this older brother I'm-going- to-tease-the-shit-out-of-you smile, and says, "You must be a friend of Joe's," referring to the gentleman who sometimes posts here and elsewhere---SFJoe. I like SFJoe immensely but we are not really friends, though there is no reason we're not, except that we just haven't had the chance. What we have is more like acquaintance, extended friendly family-esque, might be more like it. It clicked. SFJ had written a bit on a certain non-sulfured wine that Mike had up his sleeve. "You want to taste Fat Boy?" he asks. Oh gee, do I! Word has it that a certain sommelier from San Francisco, a certain euro-wine-purist was behind this 'Fat Boy.' That person would be Mark Ellenbogen. Ellenbogen, who has something of a guru air about him, has been under plenty of pressure to stop his embargo on California wines and let them through he border of the Slanted Door, the acclaimed pan-Asian resto whose list he rules. He suggested that Dashe, a nice guy who doesn't inoculate and is eagerly reducing his usage of new oak (but still picks really ripe) make an experiment. Dashe found some great tasting, dry-farmed organic grapes that came in at a sane brix # he went to work, nervously. He crushed, the ferment went on for three weeks, pressed off into 900 liter foudres (albeit new, he soaked them for six weeks to leach out as much 'new' as he could. It's low alcohol for a zin these days, 13.8. The color is something Mr.P***** would call feeble, but at this point, before the tricky bottling, it is a delicate ruby wine with transparency. cheerful and lively with great forest berry, herbal complexity. So far there's been little sulfur (SEE DASHE'S COMMENT BELOW) and there won't be any from this point on. Not even at bottling. Which is why it's risky. It also makes me a bit nervous because I feel the most successful sans soufre wines I've had sit for a longer time. On the other hand, Ellenbogen is going to sell the wine like hot dogs at a ball game, so the wine won't have too much time to funk out. But right now? Fat Boy would definitely get a spanking from Mr. P***** for being one of those "French" wines out of California. As I was leaving the extremely affable and extremely brave Dashe he said, "I have to hide this wine from the critics. Most of them would feel offended by the wine, like how could I have the audacity to make something like this, something that most of them would hate?" Now, that was an interesting thought. I suppose if Didier at Clos Roche Blanche started to P******** his wine, I might indeed be offended, thinking him a sell out or perhaps going senile, but would it offend my ego, as fragile as it is? Hmm. Something to think about.

The Dashe Connection

So, Mike Dashe, known for his zinfandel (his riesling is pretty damned good) catches my expression, which I imagine was dazed and confused. He gets this older brother I'm-going- to-tease-the-shit-out-of-you smile, and says, "You must be a friend of Joe's," referring to the gentleman who sometimes posts here and elsewhere---SFJoe. I like SFJoe immensely but we are not really friends, though there is no reason we're not, except that we just haven't had the chance. What we have is more like acquaintance, extended friendly family-esque, might be more like it. It clicked. SFJ had written a bit on a certain non-sulfured wine that Mike had up his sleeve. "You want to taste Fat Boy?" he asks. Oh gee, do I! Word has it that a certain sommelier from San Francisco, a certain euro-wine-purist was behind this 'Fat Boy.' That person would be Mark Ellenbogen. Ellenbogen, who has something of a guru air about him, has been under plenty of pressure to stop his embargo on California wines and let them through he border of the Slanted Door, the acclaimed pan-Asian resto whose list he rules. He suggested that Dashe, a nice guy who doesn't inoculate and is eagerly reducing his usage of new oak (but still picks really ripe) make an experiment. Dashe found some great tasting, dry-farmed organic grapes that came in at a sane brix # he went to work, nervously. He crushed, the ferment went on for three weeks, pressed off into 900 liter foudres (albeit new, he soaked them for six weeks to leach out as much 'new' as he could. It's low alcohol for a zin these days, 13.8. The color is something Mr.P***** would call feeble, but at this point, before the tricky bottling, it is a delicate ruby wine with transparency. cheerful and lively with great forest berry, herbal complexity. So far there's been little sulfur (SEE DASHE'S COMMENT BELOW) and there won't be any from this point on. Not even at bottling. Which is why it's risky. It also makes me a bit nervous because I feel the most successful sans soufre wines I've had sit for a longer time. On the other hand, Ellenbogen is going to sell the wine like hot dogs at a ball game, so the wine won't have too much time to funk out. But right now? Fat Boy would definitely get a spanking from Mr. P***** for being one of those "French" wines out of California. As I was leaving the extremely affable and extremely brave Dashe he said, "I have to hide this wine from the critics. Most of them would feel offended by the wine, like how could I have the audacity to make something like this, something that most of them would hate?" Now, that was an interesting thought. I suppose if Didier at Clos Roche Blanche started to P******** his wine, I might indeed be offended, thinking him a sell out or perhaps going senile, but would it offend my ego, as fragile as it is? Hmm. Something to think about.

Publisher's Weekly Is UP!

What is this woman doing on my blog? And where is Mr. Big? And what a review it is. Here's the thing. When the bad reviews hit, and I am sure there will be, will I be girl enough to put them up here as well? I really don't know. But the PW one is terrific though it does feel strange to get a stranger's take on the book and hear me compared (or at least my situation) to Carrie Bradshaw's. I mean, we have completely different senses of fashion. But, it is exciting that this is the first review from the non-wine reading world and the first clue I have that my book works for us and the rest of the world. Have I really lucked out and made discourses on yeast and tannin sexy? ++ *** In this entertaining oenological salvo, wine blogger and journalist Feiring makes an argument for wine authenticity through adherence to old techniques. She's against what she calls �Big Wine��viticulture as business and technology�and blames the shrinking appreciation for hand-vinified, long-aged �Old World� wines (like the Barolo that eventually led to her career) on, among other things, the UC�Davis School of Enology and Viticulture and the wine writings of critic Robert M. Parker Jr. (of the book's title). But what sets her sprightly polemic apart is that her argument is pinned to a personal narrative of wine tours through Europe and California. Rounding out the Syrah-and-the-City parallels are several female characters who receive noms de vin like �Honey-Sugar� and the air-kissing �Skinny,� and most entertainingly of all, the author's Carrie-like relationships. Parker looms like Mr. Big over all Feiring's oenological relationships; they finally have a couple of phone dates that distill the differences between them down to quantifying (Parker) versus qualifying (Feiring). The author, who already has fans through her blog and other journalism, can count on new ones with this publication. (May) ****

Publisher's Weekly Is UP!

What is this woman doing on my blog? And where is Mr. Big? And what a review it is. Here's the thing. When the bad reviews hit, and I am sure there will be, will I be girl enough to put them up here as well? I really don't know. But the PW one is terrific though it does feel strange to get a stranger's take on the book and hear me compared (or at least my situation) to Carrie Bradshaw's. I mean, we have completely different senses of fashion. But, it is exciting that this is the first review from the non-wine reading world and the first clue I have that my book works for us and the rest of the world. Have I really lucked out and made discourses on yeast and tannin sexy? ++ *** In this entertaining oenological salvo, wine blogger and journalist Feiring makes an argument for wine authenticity through adherence to old techniques. She's against what she calls �Big Wine��viticulture as business and technology�and blames the shrinking appreciation for hand-vinified, long-aged �Old World� wines (like the Barolo that eventually led to her career) on, among other things, the UC�Davis School of Enology and Viticulture and the wine writings of critic Robert M. Parker Jr. (of the book's title). But what sets her sprightly polemic apart is that her argument is pinned to a personal narrative of wine tours through Europe and California. Rounding out the Syrah-and-the-City parallels are several female characters who receive noms de vin like �Honey-Sugar� and the air-kissing �Skinny,� and most entertainingly of all, the author's Carrie-like relationships. Parker looms like Mr. Big over all Feiring's oenological relationships; they finally have a couple of phone dates that distill the differences between them down to quantifying (Parker) versus qualifying (Feiring). The author, who already has fans through her blog and other journalism, can count on new ones with this publication. (May) ****

California Style and Corison's No Show Girls

Still on the California mission, my next stop was the Skurnik tasting. I plucked a wineglass and took a few minutes to examine the tasting book for prospects. There was a new boy on the block, Stewart Cellars. Their copy included, "only native yeast fermentations." I circled the winery and proceeded to table 56. The owner is from Texas. The winemaker is Paul Hobbs. I was surprised that the Russian River Pinot,'06 was drinkable ($400 a case, wholesale.) What does that mean to me? It wasn�t overtly offensive. There was no in-my-face candy or strong toast or cherry. First impression? Heat and an odd, silty gritty texture, like find ground sand. Mr. Stewart told me with a great deal of pride how he sold off the '05 vintage and wouldn�t bottle it under his own name. "I make a Californian wine, not a French wine and the '05 vintage was French." Upon further pressing he explained, �It was too earthy. It just wasn�t a Californian wine.� Had he been reading Robert ******? The critic who reprimanded and punished Steve Edmunds (Edmunds St. John) for making a �French� wine? When did fat, fruit-driven, alcoholic wines of no interest become California? Doesn't it seem as if the state might have an identity crisis? It might be the wrong analogy, and I'm sure I'll rethink it and choose a better one in a few days but for some reason I began to think of parents whose smart children dropped out of school, ran away to the Unification Church. On to the next child--the Stewart '04 Cabernet at $520 a case. Perhaps the Californian of his dreams? No irony, just straightforward over ripe, toasted, thick-headed stuff. But there was indeed irony in the room. Because two tables away was Cathy Corison. From what I can ascertain, Corison, who debuted in 1987 has never gone after an �American taste.� (Is this way Parker hasn�t covered the wines in ten years?). Her �03 Kronos, from her own vineyard, was wildly expensive but elegant, a descriptive I don�t use frivolously for California. What�s more is that her 1996 Cabernet was herbal (that�s not American, I guess, maybe that�s why I liked it) with plenty of thoughts and counter-arguments thrown out in the texture and meaty flavors and good vibrancy. The wines were about 13.6 and when I asked her how she was able to manage this remarkable feat of lowish alcohol she said, � I don't make a Las Vegas showgirl of a wine.24 brix is plenty of ripeness.� When I asked her if in an odd year she would ever try reverse osmosis she just about went apoplectic. Perhaps she conceded, if she were to lose her wine due to some bacterial invasion, but never for flavor or alcohol profiling. I left feeling hopeful. There were some people who still made expressive wines. Next stop was to see what Randall Grahm was up to since he jumped on the biodynamic wagon. �Ready for some MOX-ed wines?� he asked, knowing my distaste for the process of bubbling oxygen into the wines. Two years ago I had a conversation with Jim Fulmer, head of the U.S. Demeter, the keeper of the Biodynamic trademark. I tried to persuade him to disallow the use of MOX for Biodynamic wine. As it overtly changes the wine�s chemistry it seems to be completely against the core of Biodynamic belief. But Grahm doesn't see any conflict at all. He uses it, he says, not to decrease the reduction in his reds but to increase it. Even though he says he does not use it to erase his tannins, that was part of the wine picture as well. That said, the Grahm wines are very improved and it was nice not to get aromatic yeast on his whites. As I was walking the aisles for my next victim, or the next to victimize me, I looked up. Saw Mike Dashe and whispered to myself, " A sign from God.� To be continued......

California Style and Corison's No Show Girls

Still on the California mission, my next stop was the Skurnik tasting. I plucked a wineglass and took a few minutes to examine the tasting book for prospects. There was a new boy on the block, Stewart Cellars. Their copy included, "only native yeast fermentations." I circled the winery and proceeded to table 56. The owner is from Texas. The winemaker is Paul Hobbs. I was surprised that the Russian River Pinot,'06 was drinkable ($400 a case, wholesale.) What does that mean to me? It wasn�t overtly offensive. There was no in-my-face candy or strong toast or cherry. First impression? Heat and an odd, silty gritty texture, like find ground sand. Mr. Stewart told me with a great deal of pride how he sold off the '05 vintage and wouldn�t bottle it under his own name. "I make a Californian wine, not a French wine and the '05 vintage was French." Upon further pressing he explained, �It was too earthy. It just wasn�t a Californian wine.� Had he been reading Robert ******? The critic who reprimanded and punished Steve Edmunds (Edmunds St. John) for making a �French� wine? When did fat, fruit-driven, alcoholic wines of no interest become California? Doesn't it seem as if the state might have an identity crisis? It might be the wrong analogy, and I'm sure I'll rethink it and choose a better one in a few days but for some reason I began to think of parents whose smart children dropped out of school, ran away to the Unification Church. On to the next child--the Stewart '04 Cabernet at $520 a case. Perhaps the Californian of his dreams? No irony, just straightforward over ripe, toasted, thick-headed stuff. But there was indeed irony in the room. Because two tables away was Cathy Corison. From what I can ascertain, Corison, who debuted in 1987 has never gone after an �American taste.� (Is this way Parker hasn�t covered the wines in ten years?). Her �03 Kronos, from her own vineyard, was wildly expensive but elegant, a descriptive I don�t use frivolously for California. What�s more is that her 1996 Cabernet was herbal (that�s not American, I guess, maybe that�s why I liked it) with plenty of thoughts and counter-arguments thrown out in the texture and meaty flavors and good vibrancy. The wines were about 13.6 and when I asked her how she was able to manage this remarkable feat of lowish alcohol she said, � I don't make a Las Vegas showgirl of a wine.24 brix is plenty of ripeness.� When I asked her if in an odd year she would ever try reverse osmosis she just about went apoplectic. Perhaps she conceded, if she were to lose her wine due to some bacterial invasion, but never for flavor or alcohol profiling. I left feeling hopeful. There were some people who still made expressive wines. Next stop was to see what Randall Grahm was up to since he jumped on the biodynamic wagon. �Ready for some MOX-ed wines?� he asked, knowing my distaste for the process of bubbling oxygen into the wines. Two years ago I had a conversation with Jim Fulmer, head of the U.S. Demeter, the keeper of the Biodynamic trademark. I tried to persuade him to disallow the use of MOX for Biodynamic wine. As it overtly changes the wine�s chemistry it seems to be completely against the core of Biodynamic belief. But Grahm doesn't see any conflict at all. He uses it, he says, not to decrease the reduction in his reds but to increase it. Even though he says he does not use it to erase his tannins, that was part of the wine picture as well. That said, the Grahm wines are very improved and it was nice not to get aromatic yeast on his whites. As I was walking the aisles for my next victim, or the next to victimize me, I looked up. Saw Mike Dashe and whispered to myself, " A sign from God.� To be continued......

Tasting California: The Teaser

In the near future I'm going to be placed over the barbie coals. As my feet catch fire the gate keepers will ask, "Why do you say such nasty things about California wine," (take that, Alice Sari. And that and that!). I need to be armed with answers that can pass as intelligent. This is why, instead of relying on seven year old notes, I'm on a mission. I am tasting wines I malign. This past Tuesday I started with the Sherbrooke Cellars/Liz Willette tasting held at Cru. First I fortified myself: Markus Fries 1976 Auslese Noviander Honigberg!! What a delicious spicy confection, even more delicious and important due to a touch of funk. The 1988 Spatlese Bernkasteler Schlossberg is a wee more subtle and no less delcious. And at $420 a case wholesale? I loved the new Mikulski labels, bold, almost like Dard & Ribos and his Aligot� is extremely charming, Then there was one more star for me before I had to go and do service. Domaine Martray's Brouilly, courtesy of Becky Wasserman. The Les Feuillees (which also should hit in the $20s) is a gorgeous beaujo with just the right amount of refreshing tart to balance out the velvet raspberry. The Cuv�e Corentin, is more brooding and more of a keeper. Then I went to Purgatory. I tasted Finnegan�s Lake. Right in the booklet, the winery's objective was clearly stated. �to source the best fruit available.� So much for words. I tried the Cabernet. And while I applaud the price, an old fashioned $80 a case it had over-ripe, rotted flavors I couldn�t deal with. I�m going to get to the point: I�ve never been able to see the fuss over Brewer-Clifton. Lee Campbell, one of the best sommeliers in town and certain with the most infectious, joy producing smiles, directed me to a table over yonder. �Go taste that chardonnay.� She was talking about Brewer-Clifton, one of the Santa Rita Hills wineries supposedly cult. A cult that I never signed up for. �Why?� I asked. �Just go and do it!� She said, cute dominatrix that she is. Being in an oddly passive mood, I complied. I appreciated that there were no aromatic yeasts at work. No tropical fruit! Great going! The wine was poured quite cold, there was a certain squeak to it. I looked at the label. 16% alcohol! For a Chardonnay? Why do they bother to grow the grape down there? Why? Why? Why? And what was the real alcohol? It was so squeaky I felt it had to have been de-alked. It might have entered the world at an even higher percentage. I don�t understand how anyone could drink it let alone pay about $55 retail for the torture of it. That makes the Mikulski, a way more enjoyable drink with way more complexity, an extreme bargain. On to the 3 Somms, because Lee said, �Try it. I want to see your face when you taste it.� The 3 Somms refers to 3 sommelier�s who confer on the �project.� The 2005 Napa Red? More rotted fruit. I appreciate that it probably was not reverse osmosed to find the �sweet spot,� but perhaps in this case, machine calibration for taste might be a good thing. When Lee saw my facial confusion mixed with a quick spit, she burst out. �It�s good for you!� she said, laughing so hard at me tears came to her eyes.

Tasting California: The Teaser

In the near future I'm going to be placed over the barbie coals. As my feet catch fire the gate keepers will ask, "Why do you say such nasty things about California wine," (take that, Alice Sari. And that and that!). I need to be armed with answers that can pass as intelligent. This is why, instead of relying on seven year old notes, I'm on a mission. I am tasting wines I malign. This past Tuesday I started with the Sherbrooke Cellars/Liz Willette tasting held at Cru. First I fortified myself: Markus Fries 1976 Auslese Noviander Honigberg!! What a delicious spicy confection, even more delicious and important due to a touch of funk. The 1988 Spatlese Bernkasteler Schlossberg is a wee more subtle and no less delcious. And at $420 a case wholesale? I loved the new Mikulski labels, bold, almost like Dard & Ribos and his Aligot� is extremely charming, Then there was one more star for me before I had to go and do service. Domaine Martray's Brouilly, courtesy of Becky Wasserman. The Les Feuillees (which also should hit in the $20s) is a gorgeous beaujo with just the right amount of refreshing tart to balance out the velvet raspberry. The Cuv�e Corentin, is more brooding and more of a keeper. Then I went to Purgatory. I tasted Finnegan�s Lake. Right in the booklet, the winery's objective was clearly stated. �to source the best fruit available.� So much for words. I tried the Cabernet. And while I applaud the price, an old fashioned $80 a case it had over-ripe, rotted flavors I couldn�t deal with. I�m going to get to the point: I�ve never been able to see the fuss over Brewer-Clifton. Lee Campbell, one of the best sommeliers in town and certain with the most infectious, joy producing smiles, directed me to a table over yonder. �Go taste that chardonnay.� She was talking about Brewer-Clifton, one of the Santa Rita Hills wineries supposedly cult. A cult that I never signed up for. �Why?� I asked. �Just go and do it!� She said, cute dominatrix that she is. Being in an oddly passive mood, I complied. I appreciated that there were no aromatic yeasts at work. No tropical fruit! Great going! The wine was poured quite cold, there was a certain squeak to it. I looked at the label. 16% alcohol! For a Chardonnay? Why do they bother to grow the grape down there? Why? Why? Why? And what was the real alcohol? It was so squeaky I felt it had to have been de-alked. It might have entered the world at an even higher percentage. I don�t understand how anyone could drink it let alone pay about $55 retail for the torture of it. That makes the Mikulski, a way more enjoyable drink with way more complexity, an extreme bargain. On to the 3 Somms, because Lee said, �Try it. I want to see your face when you taste it.� The 3 Somms refers to 3 sommelier�s who confer on the �project.� The 2005 Napa Red? More rotted fruit. I appreciate that it probably was not reverse osmosed to find the �sweet spot,� but perhaps in this case, machine calibration for taste might be a good thing. When Lee saw my facial confusion mixed with a quick spit, she burst out. �It�s good for you!� she said, laughing so hard at me tears came to her eyes.