The Henry Wine Group Spring Trade Tasting

I am not a high maintenance woman, but back in 1986, my childhood nickname (donned by my mother) was "Miss Priss". I loved tights and tutus, shiny shoes, and just about anything pink. So you can imagine the thrill I experienced when I tried cotton candy for the very first time. Now more than 20 years later, I can still remember most details about the event:

Shortly after sunset, my family was getting ready to head home after having spent the afternoon at the county fair. We had come with friends of my parents and their children; between the Ferris wheel and a game booth, we stopped at a grassy area to say our goodbyes. I was tired and cranky and flopped down on one of the long railroad ties arranged around the area to rest. As the smell of creosote filled my nostrils, I perked up at the sight of a large plastic bag stashed under my mother's arm as she approached me. It was filled with something fluffy and - my favorite color - pink. I was immediately interested. I must have been acting brattier than usual because I can't think of any other reason why my normally very strict, health conscious parents would have acted so out of character so as to have bought me a bag of this sweet goodness without insistent prompting from yours truly. I stuck my hand in the bag and pulled out a fingerful of the sticky stuff and was puzzled. Skeptically, I put it in my mouth anyway, totally unprepared for what I would experience over the next few seconds. I was overtaken by a mix of bewilderment, wonder, and astonishment; I had no idea that the world had something so amazing to offer me! And then, it was gone and had disappeared just as soon as it landed on my tongue. It seemed like I didn't even need to swallow it! I dove into the bag for more. I decided I loved everything about it - the texture, the flavor, the disappearing act it pulled on me, and of course, the color.

Other than my father attempting to pry the bag out of my hands before I could polish it off so that the other children could have some, I don't remember much from the rest of that night. I've had many memorable dining experiences since then, but none that have captured that unique blend of surprise and amazement like my first taste of cotton candy...until this past Tuesday evening. My mother, Kathleen, invited me to accompany her to The Henry Wine Group Monterey-Santa Cruz Spring Trade Tasting at the Carmel Valley Ranch Resort in Carmel, California. I am still very much a wine novice, but I've got an intense desire to learn more so I was more than happy to come along. It was an industry event where winemakers, representatives, and buyers could all interface for the purpose of promoting the latest wines to hit the market. We arrived halfway through the three hour tasting and it wasn't long before I made a couple of friends who were representing a local restaurant. We stayed for dinner, a beautiful banquet of endive salad with crumbled cheese, mustard dressing, and pecans, sauteed gnocchi, bow tie pasta, fish and meat. After I indulged myself at the banquet table, I headed out to join my new found friends, Monica and Andarine, at a table. Of course, Andarine was clever enough to seat us at a table that displayed a full case of wine on one of the chairs. We took our seats next to Scott Evans, National Brand Manager at the Henry Wine Group and his friend, Todd Coffin, of ExCellars Wine Agencies, who sat to our left, and Brandon Sparks-Gills, a young apprentice winemaker at Demetria Estate, who sat to my right. Throughout the meal, I was delighted to taste one wine after another, as Scott generously poured us glass after glass. At one point, Scott looks at me (somewhat devilishly I might add) and says "here, try this one. Its the Viognier of all Viognier." I'd had some prior experience with Viognier wine. Last semester, I audited a Wine Appreciation class at San Jose State but dropped out after my schedule got too full. I remember reading about Viognier wine, being inspired by the description, running out to Safeway to buy a bottle, and being utterly disappointed with my purchase. It was far too sweet to drink. I'd tried other bottles since, all with the same outcome. Hiding my skepticism, I went for it.

It looked light and clean, not sweet and syrupy - a good sign. Smelling it, I should have had an idea as to what I was in for. But like my cotton candy experience some 20 plus years ago, I could not have been prepared. There's no way I could have known. It was interesting, complex for a white wine (though again, I'm no Sommelier by any stretch of the imagination). It had a beautiful floral aroma of distinctive smells that I couldn't quite put my finger on, though one in particular stood out. As I took some of it into my mouth, its flavors burst onto my tongue, sending nerve impulses 100 m/s from my taste buds to my brain, igniting areas of my cortex thick in nostalgia, romance, hope, and memory. That one distinctive floral aroma I smelled? I recognized it by taste right away: jasmine. I looked at the glass and was immediately infatuated. A tear sprang to my eye as this glass conjured up memories of afar: in particular, a warm summer evening in San Francisco, very early in my romance with my boyfriend Nathan, sitting for dinner on a beautiful terrace surrounded by jasmine, telling him for the first time that I was falling in love with him. In my haze, I noticed Scott watching me. "Its like heroin", I heard him say with a smile. "Yeah, yeah it is" I said, dreamily. It seemed like all of the hope and beauty of the moment were contained in that one glass of Viognier, and it gave me a sense of inspiration. Inspiration for the future, for all of us, for our country...as my mind drifted to politics, I looked at that glass in a state of awe and love, like I had been struck in the heart by cupid's arrow. I snapped out of it momentarily, long enough to witness Scott holding the bottle of
2006 E. Guigal "La Dorian" Condrieu up to Brandon from across the table. "Look at what I got her", he said with a knowing tone to which Brandon responded by holding out his glass. "I've never had this kind of experience with wine" I shared with Brandon, who told me humbly that this is what wine was all about - taking it to the next level, sharing an almost spiritual experience with the grape. I was, and still am, completely enraptured.