Brandlin Ranch, Napa Valley, Mt. Veeder

In 1985, having decided to make wine from Rhône varietals, at a time when that was considered tantamount to showing off ones' certification from a prominent institution for the mentally deranged, I spent months trying to track down a planting of Mourvèdre. I knew nothing of the grape, except for having tasted the wines of Domaine Tempier in Bandol (and countless Chateauneuf du Pape wines, though the role the grape played in those wines was not entirely clear to me back then), nor of where, in California, it might do well. Though I had no defensible reason to believe I could find the grape in a place where it would do anything special, I remember feeling a kind of certainty, just beyond conscious awareness, that what I found would be splendid. Yet after months of endless deadend inquiries, I was ready to throw in the towel -- it seemed that all the Mourvèdre ever planted in California had been torn out. Then I found the Brandlin Ranch on Mt. Veeder.

Richard and Chester Brandlin, scions of Henry Brandlin (who was born on Mt. Veeder in the 1880s, who owned hundreds of vineyard acres on the mountain while he was alive, including the Mayacamas property, and the property known for a while in the 1970s as Veedercrest, now owned by Jade Mountain), learned farming as boys growing up on Mt. Veeder, and their approach to growing grapes is the same as the approach taken in the 1880s. You grow wine grapes on hillsides. You farm by hand -- weeds are removed with a hoe. You take care of the soil -- no sprays. You grow the willows from which the shoots are used to tie the vines to their stakes. You use your hands, and your legs, your back and your wits, and trust in them and in the land, and the sun, and the rain, and the seasons, and in the abundance of those gifts. (Was this Mt. Veeder or Mt. Olympus?)

When I fermented the Mourvèdre picked from their vines in 1985 I was struck dumb by the presence in the aromas and flavors it produced. This wine was alive! It was so distinctive and fine that when they offered me some Zinfandel and some Charbono the next year, despite never having intended to work with those varieties, I knew they'd be extraordinarily good, so I accepted them without hesitating. In '87 they let me know they had some Carignan, too, and I bought that as well. I worked with their Mourvèdre from 1985 through 1996, the Carignan from '87 through '96. I bottled Zin from Brandlin Ranch in vintages 1986, '87, '88, '90, and '96 (I couldn't get the grapes '91 through '95).

It was with considerable sadness that we learned, after the '96 harvest, that the Brandlin property had been sold, and that the fruit would no longer be available to us. It has been a great privilege to work with their extraordinary grapes, and an honor to have spent many hours in their company. Richard and Chester Brandlin are fine men; they're great examples of the best we have in us as human beings, true stewards of the earth.