Pinot speed dating in Martinborough

September 5, 2010

Escarpment 2008 Pinot Noir. Sautéed mushrooms & celeriac aioli on crouton.

Escarpment 2008 Pinot Noir. Sautéed mushrooms & celeriac aioli on crouton.

The room was dimly lit. There were candles glowing everywhere, red and white heart-shaped helium balloons across the ceiling, and an inviting fire burning in the nearby fireplace.

I stood talking to an energetic, grey-haired woman whose intricately beaded black necklace sparkled in the candlelight. She was telling me about her life as a vineyard owner.

“I do all the P words,” she said. “Plant, pick, prune and price!” Then she let loose with a delightfully mad, very infectious laughter. Her short hair flipped back as she doubled over.

I was speed dating, and having a fantastic time. Of course, this woman was old enough to be my mother. But never mind. She was not my date.

I was there to find my perfect Pinot match.

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Winery Tour: Murdoch James

May 21, 2010

Murdoch James - Chardonnay vines

Murdoch James - Chardonnay vines

We were off to enjoy the ‘Grape to Glass’ tour at Murdoch James.

Leelee was in the front seat next to the Wolf as their big black pick-up truck turned off Dry River Road at the Murdoch James sign. New olive growers like ourselves, Leelee and the Wolf are the good friends who helped me create our olive oil labels.

As we began the long meandering approach down the drive to the vineyard, we passed open fields and poplar trees with golden leaves. A small bridge took us over a bright and sparkling stream.

We all had a pleasant, comfortable feeling that we were in for something special.

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Winery tour: Escarpment Vineyard

March 13, 2010
The Escarpment gate

The Escarpment gate

“Turn up Te Muna Road,” I tell Russ. “It’s up there.”

I’m in the front passenger seat, and Russ is driving. Joel, Louise and Lucy are squished together in the back seat. They’re friends of ours visiting from Chicago, and we’re headed to one of my favorite Martinborough wineries, Escarpment Vineyard, for a private tour.

Rick couldn’t join us today because he has to work, but that isn’t going to stop us from visiting a vineyard. And this isn’t just any vineyard.

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Running up Te Muna Road

January 16, 2010
Huangarua river valley

Huangarua river valley (click to enlarge)

It’s early on a Sunday morning as I put on my running shoes. It’s been a very, very long time, so the shoes feel a little unfamiliar. I stretch, then open the front door and go.

I head in the direction of Te Muna Road. The name is Maori for ‘secret place’.

When I get there, the blacktop surface angles up. This is the place where my body always starts saying it’s had enough, it wants to turn around and go home. The bed was so nice. The slope is too steep.

But a gentle breeze rushes though the pine trees on either side, and I keep running.

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Behind the scenes at Toast Martinborough

November 21, 2009

Escarpment wines

Escarpment wines

It was almost 9:30 am and the floodgates were about to open.

Literally thousands of wine lovers would soon be swarming around the large white festival tent and the outdoor stage at the Escarpment pavilion of Toast Martinborough.

I had already received my red Escarpment Vineyard T-shirt, and I was waiting to talk to a woman named Cath to find out what my duties for the day were going to be.

Based on my chats with the other volunteers, it seemed the responsibilities varied widely.

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Last of the Horse Paddock Pinot

July 18, 2009

John from down the road walked in and set an unlabelled bottle of red wine on our kitchen counter. That was the first time I saw that wine.

Glass of red

It was two years ago, at a dinner party Rick and I were throwing for our neighbors.

“This is a special wine,” John said. “You can’t buy it anywhere.”

Something about the unlabeled bottle seemed vaguely illicit, as though a dodgy liquor store owner had started whispering to me about his secret stash.

I suppose I hadn’t seen a full, unlabeled bottle of wine since I was a boy, when we lived in Minnesota and my dad decided it would be a good idea to make ‘dandelion wine’ in the basement. It must have been horrible wine, since I only remember picking the dandelions for it once. I don’t think he ever repeated the experiment.

I eyed John and his unlabelled bottle suspiciously. “What kind of wine is it?”

“Good wine,” he said, and then told me the story of where it came from.

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