at John Ash with a winemaking buddy, Chris, when I was working at Roth. I had one of MacPhail’s bottles and I remember thinking it was different. In a good way, not the condescending “It’s, well, different…” response you get from someone too spineless to say they don’t like a wine. It was new and puzzle-like… kept on wanting to solve not matter how at loss for words or interpretations, thoughts, or anything I was. That’s what I look for in wine, when writing about wine… the confusion, the lost feeling but you know you’re where you’re supposed to be.
What is this Syrah from Anderson Valley going to say to me. What do I want it to say. Nothing.. not a single expression or demand or desire from me, for any wine. All I’m looking for wand wanting is Newness… experience, stories, me in the chair with a new character.