UNCORKED

Kurt Hummel, Taste Wine Editor

A YEAR IN THE VALLEY
On The Road Of Sunshine And Syrah

If all you think about when you think about California wine is Napa and Sonoma, then think again. It takes the fingers from more than one hand to count the regions that would take exception.

In reality, countless communities across California call themselves wine countries, and for good reason. Viticulture is as much a part of California culture as Botox.

And if you expand your view to the entire West Coast, you'll find wineries from one international border to the next: sweet Rieslings from Washington and plummy Pinots from Oregon; San Diego County Chardonnays and Old Vine Zinfandels from Cucamonga, where entire vineyards were plowed under just a decade ago to make room for mini-malls, and where viticulture is now making a comeback through small lots and backyard vineyards.

Oh, and try as you may, don't forget Fresno.

It may not be the bucolic hub of spas and Michelin star restaurants, but it does grow a lot of the grapes that end up in that glass of wine you're drinking.

Even L.A. has a winery, just a couple of graffiti scrawls away from the concrete-lined Los Angeles River. You may know Santa Barbara Pinots from the movies, but the area has exploded in recent years as a wine producer, and now boasts vineyards growing more than 50 wine grape varietals. And let's not forget Paso Robles, which could be the world's next great wine region.

They grow and adapt to their environments. They change as needed, to shifting demographics and economics and tastes. Not every winery can be a Napa palace. Not every vineyard can be located on a Sonoma farm. Some of them are wedged between subdivisions. Some are located next to train tracks. Others are planted as green space mandates by city planning commissions.

I'll be stretching my legs over the next several months, visiting California wineries from north to south, looking for that something new, that something different, that something unheralded — that is what Taste is all about.

Will we find another Rhapsody, the little Sonoma winery that could, and did?

Less than two months ago, Rhapsody was a small producer of Rhône varietals, in demand among local enthusiasts, but largely unknown outside the valley. But the tiny winery — high on quality but low on acreage or supply — made a big name for itself by winning gold and bronze medals in last month's Taste Challenge.

The six weeks since the competition have rocked the boutique winery. Rhapsody has carefully made use of all of its 15 acres of land, and sourced much of its blending fruit for its exquisite Sotto Voce Syrah blend, the overall winner among reds.

Its production lots were already sell-outs, or close to it, before demand skyrocketed with the winery's Taste Challenge successes.

Its wine club now has a waiting list more than 100 names deep and its owner/winemaker Blaine Anderson has decisions to make, questions that would be easy for the executive of a large winery, but that could be life-altering for an artisan winemaker.

Does he expand Rhapsody, or not?

To answer that question involves complications and implications Anderson didn't envision a year ago, and is loathe to discuss today.

Is it an opportunity? A challenge? A setback? Will it compromise the outstanding quality of Rhapsody wines?

Doubtful, I think.

Anderson is a winemaker who clearly is devoted to putting quality before quantity, but he nonetheless will face increased pressure to produce more wine for a broader audience in the coming months.

Like Rhapsody, obscure wineries dot the state, their charges practicing their craft and improving their product until the day that they can be fortunate enough to face the same tough choices as Rhapsody's Anderson.