A Hedonist in the Cellar_ Adventures in Wine - Jay McInerney [52]
She believes that the new wave of British wine enthusiasts is more adventurous than its American counterpart: “The Brits fall all over themselves to view the vinously newfangled in a favorable light. Ecuadoran Viognier, yes please! Just so long as it doesn’t cost more than £4.99.” Americans can keep abreast of these kinds of insights through her excellent Web site, jancisrobinson.com. On the other hand, if you should ever find yourself considering the purchase of, say, an 1899 Lafite and wondering how it compares with the 1898 or the 1900, or if you just want to indulge in some literate wishful thinking along these lines, her friend and colleague Michael Broadbent is your man.
ROBERT MONDAVI’S BIZARRO TWIN
The Passions and Puns of Randall Grahm
Randall Grahm’s plans for world domination have suffered numerous setbacks at the hands of litigious wine barons, the hegemonic California Cab/Chard axis, and glassy-winged sharpshooters, but he doesn’t seem remotely discouraged. At forty-nine, he has the youthful appearance of an underfed grad student, ponytailed late-1960s University of California at Santa Cruz edition, and exudes an enthusiasm only slightly tempered by wry wit and skeptical intelligence. When we met for lunch recently at the Union Square Cafe in New York, he was greeted like a rock star, not only by the staff but by fellow diners, who repeatedly interrupted us to kiss his ring. (Not that it bothered me. Really. Even though New York is supposed to be my turf. I was totally fine with that.)
Grahm is one of the eccentric visionaries of the wine world, in the same unclubbable club as Didier Dagueneau, Sean Thackrey, and Stanko Radikon. He is the founder and proprietor of Bonny Doon Vineyards, godfather of California’s Rhône Rangers, the Bizarro Universe’s evil twin of Robert Mondavi. Readers of his newsletter may suspect that Grahm got into the wine business in order to indulge his literary bent, marked by a taste for outrageous puns (“carneros knowledge,” “mail freud,” “entre noose”) and abstruse references to literature, philosophy, and Chinese medicine. A recent issue includes a Salinger parody entitled “A Perfect Day for Barberafish.” Grahm also penned a parody of The Bridges of Madison County back in the heyday of that tear-jerker, with übercritic Robert Parker cast as the romantic lead.
Grahm’s wine jones kicked in when he was studying philosophy at USC and took a job at a wine store in Beverly Hills. “It seemed like a good way to meet girls,” he says. At the store, Grahm tasted some of the great French wines. “I realized that the only way I was ever going to be able to afford wines like those was to make them myself,” he says. Pinot Noir was his first love, but he discovered the wines of the Rhône Valley through his friend Kermit Lynch. Grahm decided that Rhône grape varietals were better suited to California, and the rest is wine-geek history. He wasn’t the first California Rhônephile—he credits David Bruce—but he was probably the Elvis Presley of the so-called Rhône Rangers.
While Napa was becoming famous for its Cabernets and Chardonnays, Grahm sought out old vineyards of Grenache and Mourvèdre, and planted his own grapes near Santa Cruz. Among his first successes were two New World versions of Châteauneuf-du-Pape that, besides impressing the critics, demonstrated his talent for outrageously clever names. His Old Telegram is an homage to Vieux Télégraphe; Le Cigare Volant is a reference to an ordinance passed by the town council of Châteauneuf-du-Pape banning