Letter From Janie
by: Janie Master

It’s bottling time again and it’s all for you! The new 2007 vintage for our Tortoise Creek California varietals is ready to quaff. As sure as each season comes around (even if Global Warming makes it 3 weeks earlier now??) we now blend and bottle our Merlot, Cabernet and Chardonnay in California. The Viognier, Pinot Noir and Sauvignon Blanc still come out of the Languedoc in the South of France but with the demise of the dollar we are spreading our profit-margin to California to make up the difference.

Blending or making wine is just like having a baby each year! It is wonderful, surprising and different with each vintage. Last year the crop was small because the summer was so hot and the wines, therefore, are sweet and chubby as a healthy boy. The juice is concentrated and jammy and quite delicious to drink right now. It will be in the Colorado market within the next few weeks.

Mel and I launched the new wines in both Orange County (for Southern California) and in San Francisco (for Northern California). We took the early plane out of Denver on a Thursday morning and arrived on a full-blown spring day in LA. First, we had to drive up to the Central Coast winery some five hours north of the city. We took the ‘boring’ expressway up Route 5 through the flat central valley past Bakersfield. We passed mile upon mile of flat land filled with strawberry fields, lettuces of every description and asparagus, onions and spinach peeping through the red earth. Interspersed with the pristine veggies and fruits were fields of oil rigs. They looked just like huge grey transformers in some horrible Matrix film as they ponderously sea-sawed up and down regurgitating black gunk for our insatiable appetite for gasoline. After about 4 hours we turned abruptly west toward Paso Robles and entered the hilly region pushed up by the St. Andreas Fault out of the Pacific. The whole area was covered in spring flowers; wild blue lupins and vivid orange California poppies in profusion. There were all types of nut trees from walnuts to pistachios in orchards along the valleys and cattle and sheep grazing contentedly on the high ground. It was picture perfect.

We turned south once more to the tiny town of Santa Margarita just north of San Luis Obispo. In a hidden valley we bumped over the cattle grid and entered the winery grounds. The beaming winemaker and cellar master welcomed us and quickly filled up our rental car with 15 cases of our newly bottled wines for the tasting in Orange County the next day. We hugged them and drove off in clouds of red dust with the car tipped backwards like a speedboat weighed down with our precious cargo.

“Let’s go back via the coast,” whispered Mel, “I’ve booked us for the night at a little motel outside Santa Barbara.” We drove down the paralytically beautiful coast road and marveled at the serene ocean dotted sporadically with ugly oil rigs on the way south. We found the motel and covered up our hoard of cartons in the back seat with our coats to thwart any thirsty thieves. Mel signed in and we trudged up to our dismal room overlooking the freeway and found not only that the windows were sealed shut but that the room smelt like a chemical factory of chlorine and sickly sweet perfume. We apologized profusely to the inn keeper, stuttering and excuses and left immediately. Where to go now? We drove miserably around the outskirts of Santa Barbara and happened upon a little private house come bed and breakfast in a side street and breathed a sigh of relief. It was quiet, flowery and the windows opened up to the Pacific breezes. As it was now close on 7 p.m. we locked up the room and the car and walked a block to the sandy beach to meander along to the little Italian restaurant that Mel had found on the web. “Fabulous inexpensive bistro frequented by locals” was the description. We found the tiny restaurant situated in a little stucco house just off Main Street called Ca’Dario (37 East Victoria Street Tel: 805 884 9419). There was a line of people waiting outside. Inside was a noisy, totally full trattoria with the most divine smells of baking bread, garlic and flowers. We sat happily at the bar and consumed huge bowls of home-made taglietelle with buttery Bolognaise (for me) and penne with fresh spinach tomato and basil (for Mel) all downed with a carafe of chilled Arneis, a delicious white from the Piedmont region. Dario Furlati the chef was away in Italy and so we hugged his sous-chef and then meandered home watching the pelicans skimming the surf and fell asleep like dead sailors.

We woke early for the 4-hour journey south past Los Angeles and down to Orange County. Our rental car breathed a sigh of relief like a mule when we removed the axel-breaking weight of the wine from its back. Mel delivered his heart-warming speech to the 50 or so wine reps as they tasted our wines and we left with a standing ovation; very satisfying!

We had the evening to ourselves and we drove back up to the Los Angeles airport and checked into a Holiday Inn under runway three. As it was only 4 p.m. we quickly donned our T-shirts and sneakers and drove the mile or so down to the beach at the end of the airport. We parked on Pacific Highway and ran down to the surf – it was utterly freezing! No swimming for us – the icy spring current running down the coast from the Arctic hadn’t had time to warm up so we ran along and into the surf thoroughly wetting our jeans (why does that always happen, even if you roll up your trousers to your knees?!) We then sat on some Bermuda grass under a cedar tree and watched the sun setting over the Pacific as huge planes rumbled excitingly over our heads and reminded ourselves of the importance of take the time to “smell the roses” in life.

Back to the hotel to change and then on to dinner. You can’t go anywhere in Los Angeles in less than an hour and now it was time for dinner. The rush-hour traffic seems to be backed up now almost 24-hours a day. We crawled up Sepulveda and into Culver City center and parked just off the Main Street. There on the corner was our destination – “Fraiche”. This was a new addition to the French Bistro scene owned by an American chef who had trained in Italy – go figure. Luckily Mel had booked there as we were told that there was a two-month waiting list to get in. It was just wonderful. We sat on the covered patio and watched the open kitchen floor-show inside with delight. We started with a fresh English pea and mint ravioli soused in minted beurre blanc followed by a mind-bogglingly rich oxtail papparadelle with mustard greens (for me) and a strozzapreti nero (made with squid ink) tossed with manila clams, saffron butter and crunchy breadcrumbs (for Mel). We half balanced the richness of all the butter with a bottle of Arneis again. Then we hugged the cuddly chef and ran to the car to drive another 30 minutes east (away from our hotel)to – yes, have dinner!!!

Actually, this is not quite 100% true. During dinner Mel had been singing the praises of Nancy Silverton’s new Pizzeria Mozza and Osteria Mozza (she of La Brea Bakery fame) created with partner Mario Batali at 641 North Highland just east of La Brea Boulevard. (Tel: 323 297 0101). He SOOOOOOO wanted me to see it! So off we went. It wasn’t that we were hungry or anything, it was just that we were there. Yet again, there were queues of people standing outside the door waiting to get in. Mel breezed past everyone like a movie star and was welcomed inside by a yell “Yo, Mel!” The manager, David Rosoff, bounded over and gave him a huge bear-hug and within 3 minutes we had a table and I felt like royalty. Being restaurateurs ourselves, we promised David that we’d be out in 20 minutes so that none of the wretched waiting masses outside would lynch him. The Pizzas that Nancy Silverton had created were ethereal puffy circles of organic pastry surrounding the thinnest crunchy bases I’ve ever tasted. Toppings were very Californian – Sweet, rich gorgonzola with fingerling potatoes and fresh rosemary, fennel sausage with spring onions, white anchovies with baby sweet vine tomatoes and hot chiles, wild spinach, nettle greens, soft cheese and salami; etc. The only mis-step was a gift from the kitchen while we waited for the pizzas to cook. We were presented with a deep dish brimming with a boiling mass of elephant garlic buds and frothing olives. I don’t know about you but boiled olives in pig fat and garlic is not my idea of gustatory perfection. Even the garlic tasted off and the divine brininess of the olives was lost in the bubbling cauldron. True to our word we were out of there in an instant vowing to come back for another visit for the sublime food.

The next week-end we were to be in San Francisco for the introduction of our wines to the Northern California sales people. We drove from the airport to our favorite motel – Cow Hollow, on Lombard Street just east of the Presidio. Immediately, we donned our sneakers and sweaters (it was a cool 60 degrees) and literally jogged along the Marina to walk the length of the Presidio to the Golden Gate. The Ocean spray dampened us laughingly as it broke over the kelp-covered rocks under the magnificent bridge and the sea-level air made us ravenously hungry. We showered and changed and drove quickly downtown to eat at a new restaurant that Mel had been told about by some of our most knowledgeable foodie friends in the city.

“Perbacco” is another Italian/Californian restaurant on California street two doors down from Aqua and next that old bastion of a SF restaurant, Tadich Grill where we had spent many a night during our Jordan Winery days in the late 70s. Perbacco” is a truly modern trattoria with pristine white walls and plain tables serving impeccable Californian specialties. We began by sharing a ‘vitello tonnato’ with an arugula salad. The tiny spiky arugula leaves tasted peppery and mustardy at the same time. Those pitiful greenhouse arugula greens we buy in our supermarkets are hardly related to their freshly picked cousins.

We kept with the Italian mood and followed with a creamy risotto with organic Wolfe ranch pork belly, nettles and mixed leeks (Mel) and hand-made agnolotti filled with baby veal and savoy cabbage (me). Actually, you know by now that Mel and I switch and swap each and every dish we are given. It’s half the fun of being married – you can eat twice as many goodies without eating too much!

Happy and contented we left the restaurant and decided to peek into “Aqua” to look at the beautiful people and oogle at the sumptious 15-foot flower arrangements in their beautiful dining-room. Just as we were squeezing past a packed bar a young inebriated woman shouted “And you know I have the most FABULOUS tits!” I grinned and Mel said “You go girl!” and we passed on. In a split second a red-faced bull of a man had bounded after Mel and was shouting in his face “WHAT did you say to my wife?” He pushed Mel into a pillar and put a fist in his face. Bedlam ensued. “He’s drunk!” shouted a man at the bar trying to pull him off poor Mel. “Don’t worry, he’s totally soused,” yelled one of his friends trying desperately to disengage him at which point he fell into the dining-room. “Oh, dear, we’re English!” I cried to no-one in particular hoping that they wouldn’t put tourists behind bars. The manager rushed over and offered us a free meal and we both demurred and hurried out of the place. I asked Mel if her appendages were worth it? “I’ve no idea,” he replied. “I never even looked at them – it was just a happy reaction to her statement!” Oh, how proud I am. After 44 years of marriage my husband has at last been ‘in a bar brawl’.

The following morning we were picked up by a young and bouncy Jordan Sager, the national marketing director son of our partner Yale Sager. Good looking and energetic as usual he was to drive us up to the Napa valley for our wine promotion. We made him hoot with laughter during the trip by regaling him about Mel’s escapade the night before. After another madly successful tasting and presentation of our new vintage, we were returning to the city when Jordan asked if we would like to stop at the warehouse where all of the Tortoise Creek wines were kept and an hour later we rattled over the cobblestones of the Embarcadero and parked next to a vast warehouse half way between Fisherman’s Wharf and the new Farmer’s Market. I was never so impressed in my life. There stacked in cellophane-wrapped pallets were line upon line of cases of our wines from California, France and Italy (Tiamo) emblazoned with the perky Tortoise on each one. Jordan signed for a mixed case of samples for us to bring back to Denver and then drove us back to Cow Hollow. We took a nap and then showered and dressed for our final night at our favorite haunt – “Delfina” – in the Mission District. (3621 18th Street at Dolores Tel:415 552 4055).

There was Annie, the chef’s wife beaming with open arms to us at the door. How we love this informal little place. Jordan and his divine wife, Kate, and another of our wholesaler wine buffs and his wife made up the table for 6. We laughed contentedly over a sublime dinner of grilled calamari on warm white beans, salt cod with walnut oil, linguini with miniature clams, grilled tuna with fresh grilled fennel, organic Fulton chicken with royal trumpet mushrooms, white bass with artichoke hearts and black olive tapenade and lots of naughty home-made desserts. Jordan had bought a lovely ice-cold Chablis Grand Cru 2002 with him for us all to enjoy and our friend Rick Michaels had bought a mind-boggling gem, a 1995 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou Bordeaux to share with all of us wine aficionados. We parted in high spirits (but of course!) and in the morning we left the flowering spring in balmy California and took the first plane back to Denver and were greeted by another inch of April snow. Next day it was 70 degrees.

EVENTS

Wonderful Californian wines and a superb four course dinner will be our April Wine dinner. Check Out the Amazing Menu...

1st Course
Fried Artichokes Hearts with Meyer Lemon Aioli and Pancetta
Served with Robert Mondavi Fume Blanc

2nd Course
Florida Grouper with asparagus, Lime Scented Rice, White Soy Vinaigrette
Served with Franciscan Chardonnay

3rd Course
Roasted Lamb w-rosemary, broccolini & fingerling potatoes
Served with Robert Mondavi Carneros Pinot Noir
and Francican Magnificat Meritage

Dessert
Rhubarb and Strawberry tartlet with black pepper ice cream
Served with Robert Mondavi Moscato d’Oro

Price is $69.50 per person.

Please Call Youssef at 303-779-7921 for reservations