Captain Tumorman bribing me with money and my favorite wine
And so with this in mind I have another great big confession.
Randall Grahm patron saint and owner and winemaker of his own
Bonny Doon
I had never had a one-on-one with Randall, and honetly when his marketing person emailed me to make the date, I thought they had the wrong person. But no, I was indeed the Alice Feiring he was seeking to have dinner with. What a hoot. I was pleased and looking forward to talking about his current wine transformation, the buying a ticket for the real wine train, and where he stood on micro oxygenation these days. And, I admit I was looking forward to going over the wine list together and doing the 'What about this? And what about that? Burgundy? Jura? Loire? Where would we go? What would that dance be like?
We were both a little cranky and depressed, we must come from the same Poland/Russia/Poland/Russia sector of the world.
I did not like the food as much as the local critics. I found it too mussed with. But I loved Elizabeth Harcourt, Corton's lovely, enthusiastic sommelier.
As Randall brought his wines, we didn't go near the list. Okay, a different experience than I had expected. Rule #1: Have no expectations.
His nebbiolos were not so bad. His albarino and muscat are quafable as well.
I offered, 'I could' drink these,' and he wasn't offended, for which I was grateful. I mean, Randall knows how I feel about California. And even though he uses the syrah grape he did volunteer (with a nod to me because he knew he was going to echo my own believe) that an Edmunds St. John syrah (the Wylie, I believe) was the best California syrah he's had.
His wines have definitely evolved since his 'throw anything at em days', but I still want him to go further, push it, go beyond his fascinating with crystallization. Have the nerve to farm well and do nothing in the winery except (as they say) control spoilage. If he wants to go radical, go radical. Being who he is and his reputation, if he wants to get rid of his reputation as a superb marketer and be known as a superb terroirist, he has to disrobe completely when it comes to wine making.
Yes, he is having an identity crisis. For some of us, it never stops.
Elizabeth, bless her corkscrew, made sure we had some Puffeney!
I looked at Randall and said, why not move to the Arbois and make wine?
He can't. He's in Santa Cruz, he's got to do it there. I wish him luck.
We didn't really get into the MOX affair. He believes it helps if his goal is non-reductive winemaking (as opposed to oxidative winemaking
Randall picked up the tab.
I let him and I didn't even offer the tip.
A freelance journalist, I do allow people take me out as per the pecking order. An agent takes out an editor and both editor and agent takes out the writer. Peckng order. A vigneron, or a tiny one-person show? Dutch is okay, too. Maybe even I'll make you dinner.
Mr. P****** can well afford to pick it up, pay for his own meal, so he does. And he should. And he shouldn't have to get any medals for it either. As they say in French, C'est normale.
But, believe me, if I had an expense account, you don't think I would love to turn the tables and pick up the tab? Ethel brought me up feeling uncomfortable if someone buys me a cup of coffee. Thank goodness, thanks to the miracle of therapy, I have learned to say thank you and not think I owe them my body or my approval, just my time and a good exchange.
