Hospice du Rhône

The world series of classic Rhônes this year was my first time to see what the buzz was about. The two hour drive from Santa Barbara sets your brain up for the day, vineyards, tasting rooms, appellations, the change in climate, the different sameness in the scenery, the more numerous SUV's and pick-ups, the more you look at the native landscape, the more you see future vines.
I happened to be in Paso Robles for a completely different reason, unaware of what the day may unfold. Fortune shines occasionally, admittedly rarely, but still.

The auction was in full throttle, I tuned out after bids reached 10 grand. I was dragged kicking and screaming, as you can imagine, to the most sought after table of the year. Five of the Santa Barbara first team sitting together. Man of the year is what we Brits might say, but Person of the Year is awarded at HdR. Bob Lindquist Person/Man/Winemaker/Wiseman/Visionary/Role Model of the Year, has the most gentle handshake and humble nature, amid the all star line-up turned out to support his latest triumph. Steve Beckmen, another farsighted winemaker and Rhône specialist on his way to revolutionise biodynamic farming and winemaking, sat to Bob's left. Luke Lindquist, whose first wines I wait in anticipation for, sat to Bob's immediate right, of course, is assistant to Fred Brander. Morgan Clendenen shared her Cold Heaven viognier, the most appropriate wine of the day, with us. David Hardy, philanthropist and owner of Carina Cellars, I am eternally grateful for, was my facilitator.

As this was the world series, the highly collectable for future reference is the signed Bob Lindquist playing card.

My prior appontment, was at 3pm, of which I will tell more when it is relevant took around an hour. Afterwards, I went straight in to the Grand Tasting. At first glance it is one almighty crowd of sedate drinkers, but then you realise there is something special going on. There is nothing commercial, in the American sense, about the room. It's like an orchid show with wine instead and without direct purchasing, no blasts of advertising, and little merchandising. All the tasting tables are given the same size banner, some have water, others have bread, and most have spit buckets. All have wine. This is where ego and personality is left at the parking lot outside.

The Santa Barbara contingent were immediately noticeable by their ethereal glow. Their quiet knowing and confident bearing shone through. Jovial schmoozing, serious swooshing out numbered the vacant stares. It was like being a kid in a toyshop, it's very difficult to control the joy believe me. I was sent almost immediately by David straight to the French contingent. The benchmarkers with their mighty haul of '03's, how could you not? I decided to settle on the best red and the best white (for me). Like I say, a kid in a toyshop, uncontained. In retrospect my eyes popped out too often, my thoughts ran away with me and my tongue loosened. If it didn't happen to anyone else, they were in the wrong place. Every Chateau neuf label was killer, everything had an elegant understatement. The syrah blew me away and the Condrieu oh my God the Condrieu. Bear in mind I only had an hour or less, so little time. I regret missing Northern California and the Aussies.

Paul Lato had little left when I caught up to him, Luke manned the Qupe wines, Benjamin Silver and Dave Corey had permanent crowds around them. I had been looking forward to trying Clay Brock's grenache in the Zaca Mesa lineup, but was sorely missing as too was Bridlewood who missed the GT deadline. To finish, who else but John Alban, my last wine of the day, rousanne.

The wines that did it for me?
Domaine de la Citadelle, Alex Rousset-Rouard's Gouverneur Saint Auban 2003, was my hands down red. This is what I always expected to get from a great French wine.

Domaine Mathilde et Yves Gangloff's condrieu 2004, the white. The most focused wine I have ever come across. I try to consume wine as and when it is available. Never have I been consumed by a wine. I don't mean engaged or attracted to but literally consumed. I swirled, smelled, entered a new world, tasted and then felt the spirit-life surround me and swallow me whole, engulfing me, coating my outside with something magical. I swallowed and felt salvation, the only wine that wouldn't let me spit out. I took a second taste, an anchor was attached to my feet to stop me floating away. I dragged strangers over to taste it. I ordered a case of it through the girl who buys wine at Los Olivos Grocery. This bugger drove me crazy, no wine has ever done that before and in front of such a crowd I felt naked, I didn't care. Ask me to describe the wine and I can't, it was too profound, too personal. This is not a kiss and tell, there are no words to explain the feeling.

HdR I hope to see you again. The drive home was just a big grin for 2 hours. The Condrieu was like my first tiger sighting, I submit.