Wined Up

Friday, September 19 -

I’m in France because I was invited to visit Champagne. Why then does the Jura seem to be spooking me everywhere I go? After walking all over today,  I bought a Herald Tribune and parked my ass at Juvenile, a wine bar type of place in the 2^nd.  Separating itself from other wine bars in Paris, Juvenile has an international selection of wine but when in France I usually drink French wine (crazy) so I looked at  the wine list and found that of the French wines featured by glass, the one that caught my eye was an ‘04 Savagnin from LesChais du Vieux Bourg in the Cotes du Jura.

Unlike the Chignin from last night, this wine had immense personality. I realize these wines are not for everyone as they have an oxidized, fino sherry-like quality, which is why they are called ‘jaune vin’ or yellow wine.  Not all ‘jaune vin’ is made equal but this wine was almost as good as Puffenay’s. It was great with the gravalox (and it was near perfect gravalox at that) I ordered and Nicholas Kristoff’s op-ed on the $17,000 an hour corporate execs (that is when I ordered my second glass). 

Saturday, September 20, 2008 

Last night we picked up a couple of bottles of wine, one from the Monoprix, which is as close as there is to a Whole Foods in Paris, that was pretty undrinkable. Luckily, we also found a small local wine shop that had a limited but decent selection including Leon Boesch’s Sylvaner from Alsace, the inspiration for our munster with cumin purchase.

Earlier in the day I met a friend at Livonia, a posh wine shop in the Place de la Madelaine and thought about grabbing a bottle but did not want to shlep it around…next time I will shlep. Am I spelling shlep right? Is it schlep? Anyway, one more day in Paris before I head to Champagne and begin working. The weather gods have been cooperating as it has been gorgeous. LN = The Bitch, and I might go to the Eiffel Tower. For more than 20 years I’ve been traveling to France and have yet visit is most famous monument…then again, I’ve never been to Alcatraz or Yankee fucking Stadium (even across the Atlantic I suffer from baseball Tourettes). We’ll see what the day holds in store…for now, I’m hungry.

I got super fed up with all the spam I was getting and have not had time to deal with it by finding another server so I stopped writing in this blog but as I cannot sleep, I’m giving it another try.

Since this is supposed to be a wine blog I will try to stick to the subject, at least in the first paragraph.  Hmmmm….maybe not. Let me write about some other stuff and think about what I’m going to say.

I arrived yesterday in the late morning after getting very little sleep over the last week, make that month. The idea I had about conking out on the plane was put to rest when I realized I would be surrounded by a wild pack of Spanish teenagers for ten hours. Unable to get Ambien in time, I tried Scotch, Benadryl, even Vicodin, but alas, ‘flying with Elvis,’ as my best friend Nancy would say, was ineffective. I was hoping to take a nap upon arrival in Paris but my host, Helene, aka The Bitch (she doesn’t mind that name) would not let me sleep either, so instead I went to the Pompidou Center where in a delirious state I nearly tripped over a sculpture and smashed into a painting. In the name of art preservation I figured it was time to ignore The Bitch and take a nap. This is why I have been awake since 3:15 a.m. (The Bitch told me I would wake up at three if I napped so she was within the margin of error of self righteous victory) , eating Tomme de Savoie and skyping with my girlfriend and cat.

Wine Thought of the Day

We went to a restaurant with Savoie cuisine last night (in case you are wondering it was pretty much like Swiss food…fondue, raclette, no vegetables) and excited to have some Chignin or Rousette I looked at the wine list to find it said simply Rousette de Savoie, etc…with the price but no producer. Great producers make good wine no matter what and poor producers can turn even the best fruit into caca. I asked about the vignerons, or rather Helene did as I was too tired to try to string this sentence together in French, and our waiter did not know but brought over a bottle of each. As it turned out, it was the same producer for both wines (and probably all the other ten wines on the list) and we ordered a half bottle of the Chignin that was drinkable but none too exciting. People, list the producer. The correct vintage is helpful too. I mean, really.

The Bitch predicted I would be tired by 5 a.m. and once again, she is right so I’m going to sign off and go back to sleep.

Since we got back from Texas it has been a whirlwind, capped off by a bit of a slide at the Mets/Giants game on Tuesday night that has left me pretty laid up. I wish I could say it happened while I was relieving Pedro but the truth is that while I was carrying a couple of beers, I slipped on some spilled beer, or water, and did a half split. What exactly happened is still up for discussion as I went into shock and was pretty disoriented but I write this laying on the couch, icing my leg and wondering if it is too early in the day for painkillers.

Cami and I went to Texas a few weeks ago to visit her family, friends and check out Fredericksburg, the Texas Hill Country, which is also one of Texas’s wine regions. I really do think there is potential but Texas is quite a way off from rivaling California, or for that matter, Oregon and Washington, for making the highest quality wines in the US. We visited what are considered two of the better wineries, Becker and Alamosa, and tasted in some of the tasting bars in town. We also went to the Fredericksburg Winery, which has a tasting room on the main strip.

Highlighting the positive, Becker, which is right on Route 73 on the way to or from town, makes some good wines and the Viognier, Reserve Merlot and Reserve Chardonnay, were notable. It is illegal or immoral to serve wine before noon on Sunday in Texas so we had to wait a good 45 minutes for Becker to open, along with the wasps (and I’m talking about the insects here) on the porch. By the time they unlocked the doors there was quite a crowd, largely tourists from other parts of Texas. After Becker we made a long trek to Alamosa, apparently taking the scenic route. My Benadryl started to kick in so Cami took over at the wheel. I woke to the sound of a siren to discover we were being pulled over by a cop, as Cami was driving ten miles over the speed limit. Had it been me driving, with my yankee (note the lower case here) accent, I’m sure I’d still be in the slammer but my charming, and ever so pretty girlfriend managed to get off with a warning.

Anyway, hungry we were so we decided to give in to our guilty fast food pleasure. Here we were, in Texas, famous for its Tex-Mex, and where do we eat? Taco Bell. To state the obvious, there was nothing else around. Anyway, finally after two hours of driving, we arrived at Alamosa. A couple that grows a lot of the grapes was manning the tasting bar since the owners were at the Texas Wine Fair in Austin. The highlights for me here were again, white wines, a Chenin Blanc and a white Rhone Blend called Scissortail. The Chenin, which is named ‘Jacques Lapin,’ comes from the High Plains where it gets a lot cooler at night. The ’04 is the current release and it is drinking very well, offering some of the characteristics of a basic Anjou blanc. The Scissortail comes from our greeters vineyard and they were very proud of their contribution toward this wine. It reminded me a bit of a good blend from Lirac. It had good weight and an array of flavors. We bought two bottles and drank both with our friends in Austin who also dug it. The drive back to town was a bit shorter, an hour and 15 minutes, but really pretty. I listened to the baseball channel on satellite radio while Cami slept and pondered what the hell was wrong with Gary Carter.*

Some of the other Fredericksburg wineries to watch are Grape Creek Vineyards and Llano Estacado. A lot of folks, Alamosa excluded, are growing a whole bunch of stuff and not focusing on just a few varietals that are probably best here. My guess is that Grenache, possibly Zinfandel, and the white Rhone grapes might prove to be the best grapes for the area. It is very hot, even at night, and the unlike the Northern Rhone or the Central Coast of California, the intense heat begins in June. This can be problematic for Syrah. Who am I to say what they should grow…I can only speculate. The irony is that on the whole, I was more impressed with the white wines than the reds.

Outside of wineries, we found the Lincoln Street Café, a wine and cigar bar that sells retail and has a limited menu. It has an Austin-like feel, with an outdoor area that has music, a mixed clientele and super chill people running the place. They chose not to serve Texas wine to differentiate themselves from the other wine bars and restaurants in town. That worked for me as I had a terrific glass of Riesling from Pauly-Bergweiler. We also witnessed, or shall I say Cami witnessed, a spat at the table next to us where the woman in the couple slapped the dude she was with in the face, walked off and sped away in her car. I think that while this was happening I was recovering from heat stroke so I missed the best part, the actual slap. Never a dull moment, right. Glad it wasn’t me.

Anyway, since coming back, the Mets have once again slipped to under 500, even if they took two out of three in San Francisco. What can I say? At least the Celtics are up 2 – 0.

Since I’m not all that mobile I will probably be back again this week, writing in my blog but for now I’m going to wait for the Vicodin to kick in.

* That was the weekend when Willie Randolph’s job seemed to be on the line and Gary Carter let it be known that he was willing to take over as the Mets manager. OK, I try not to ding people here but really, Gary, you weren’t that popular as a player, what makes you think anyone would want you as a manager? Dude! 

Peace – PSB

Rejuvenation

If you are not a Dead Head, don’t like the Dead or don’t have any idea who the Dead are, skip a few paragraphs.

Like lots of other enophiles, I’ve seen my fair amount of Dead shows. I was at the final show the Dead ever did with Jerry in California before he died. I figured that once I heard Unbroken Chain (off Mars Hotel and had never been done live before the ’95 spring tour) that would be the end for me and as fate would have it, Jerry Garcia died two months later. With the Warfield as we know it about to change hands, I decided to get some tickets for the closest incarnation of the Dead, Phil and Friends, who played earlier this week and are closing it down this weekend.

I’m assuming that anyone who is still reading is a hardcore Dead Head. As you might know by now, Phil and Friends, which on Tuesday included Bob Weir most of the night, played the entire first album, The Grateful Dead, in order, during the first set. At the break everyone was wondering if Anthem of the Sun was slated next and as soon the lights went down and they started playing The Other One it was confirmed. 

To see two guys, in their sixties, one who is on liver number two and survived prostate cancer, jam with the same verve they had 40 years ago was pretty mind blowing. The whole band, especially Jackie Green, had no problem keeping it up. 

Bob didn’t make it to the show the next night but again, as soon as they opened with St. Stephen the crowd, which was made up of a lot of 40 and 50 something former Dead Heads (although once a Dead Head, always a Dead Head, right), knew what was in store…the third and fourth albums.

Phil was very emotional (his words) and I’ve got to say that I’ve been really moved too. On so many levels the choice to play all of these old albums, in order, has been momentous. The first four albums reflected a time in San Francisco when people really thought there was the possibility to change things, kind of like right now. I’m not being sentimental because I was born in the mid-60’s so I don’t have the right and hindsight being 20/20, there were some really fucked up things going on back then. For women, gays, African-Americans, etc…life was not as good. And, for the record, I’ve never owned tye-die, flowered clothing (with the exception of a Hugo Boss shirt I bought three years ago), slept in a VW bus or gone a day without bathing save for when I’ve been really, really sick. For me its always been about the music and that Phil and Friends have gone back and played stuff that hasn’t been done in nearly 40 years, and with such perfection and zeal, I can’t help but think that the ghost of Jerry Garcia is smiling. That the surviving members of the Dead have come out and supported Obama says that even with a little extra weight and gray hair, the spirit that started the band, is still alive today and it showed at the Warfield this week.

Now onto wine. On Thursday I will board a plane for Houston. This is not the first time I’ve flown into HW’s airport but it is the first time I am actually going to leave the airport and spend time in Texas’s largest metropolis. Why am I going to Houston at the end of May when the heat in San Francisco over the last two days nearly poached my fair skin? After spending a couple of days in Houston, we are heading to Fredericksburg, Texas’s largest wine region. The idea for doing this arose when I decided some months ago that if the Democrats win the White House, I want the sommelier job. At that time I was in the Edwards camp (John likes Sauvignon Blanc) but felt then and I have said all along, I’ll work for any Democrat (with a few understandable exceptions). I’m not sure the White House has a sommelier but since the expletive teetotaler expletive is on the way out, I’m thinking this might be a good time to introduce the position. My idea is that the White House should have as many good American wines as it can find so I’m going on a series of trips to wine regions throughout the US to further this endeavor. Outside of California, Oregon and Washington, I’m sure other states have the potential to make really great wine. New York has had its triumphs like the Lenz Gewurztraminer, the best one made in the United States (that I’ve tasted anyway). I’ve had decent wines from Michigan, Virginia and Idaho and there is no better place to showcase American wines than in the White House, if Barack wins. If not, I will let you know where I plan on seeking political asylum.

Actually though, this has also been a great week because the California Supreme court woke up and said hmmm…equal rights, what a concept. I went over to the GLBT Community Center (it is just a block away after all) for the rally and speeches on Thursday and felt really proud to see the California flag on stage with the rainbow flag. This fight is not over but I think the tide has permanently turned.

So, I’ve had a pretty exciting few days. That said, I feel really horrible about the earthquake in China and the cyclone in Myanmar. Myanmar is kind of futile but at least in China international aid is getting to the victims. So, let me ask you to think about this. Enjoy your wine because really there is tragedy everyday and there is only so much you can do. But instead of spending what you would normally spend on wine, take 20% of it and send the money to Doctors Without Borders or Unicef. Chances are that the extra 20% is just going toward unnecessary oak treatment anyway.

If anyone has any good tips on wineries in Fredericksburg, please let me know.

Rock On, Peace Out…PSB

I was actually referring to Perbacco in San Francisco. I haven’t been to the one in New York but our version us really good.

On Wednesday, I did something I rarely do these days…attended a wine lunch. The special guest was Giovanni Manetti, the owner of Fattoria de Fontodi in Chianti Classico, who I’ve known for a pretty long time. If you read my Examiner column on Saturday you can get some background on Fontodi but suffice it to say I think it is one of the best producers in Tuscany and since the lunch was limited to a small group I figured why not.

As we sat at the table at Perbacco waiting for some others to arrive, the subject of the Brunello scandal came up. You may be wondering which scandal as was I given that 1) I’m paying more attention to the election than wine gossip/news 2) I’m paying more attention to baseball than the election and 3) sometimes I wonder if I should name the rock I live under. The scandal is that several large producers including Antinori, Banfi, Argiano and Frescobaldi, were caught putting grapes other than Sangiovese, aka Brunello, into their Brunello di Montalcino bottlings. Whoops.

Giovanni, a smart guy, is one of Chianti Classico’s staunchest supporters and he was instrumental in forcing the DOCG to make changes allowing non-indigenous grapes into the Chianti Classico blend. He was pushing for a 10% limit but in the end the DOCG ended up with a 20% limit. Playing devil’s advocate, I asked him, “If Chianti Classico is permitting Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and other non-indigenous grapes (in part because a number of producers were already using them under the radar) what makes Brunello different?” There is the obvious being that these grapes are officially sanctified when they are not in Brunello. Also though, the Brunello di Montalcino DOCG specifically states that the wine must be 100% Sangiovese when Chianti was always allowed to blend. Giovanni brought up a few good points, one being that it is not fair to the consumer who is expecting a wine that is made entirely of Sangiovese and two that if producers want change they can get together and vote the way Chianti Classico did.

I actually happen to agree with Giovanni and there are some really big differences between Montalcino and Chianti Classico. In theory, Chianti Classico uses Sangiovese Picolit, a different clone from what is used in Montalcino. Also, as a rule, the wines from Chianti Classico can be so acidic and angular that adding a little Merlot, or Cabernet Sauvignon, structurally can help the wine without compromising its core. I don’t think this is true in Montalcino. There are IGT wines from Montalcino that are blends and I have yet to have one that reaches the heights of the Brunello.

Of the producers who were nailed in this scandal, I wouldn’t say any of them are among the best from the appellation. Why they did what they did, who knows. As said, grapes other than Sangiovese are grown in Montalcino but they are not permitted in the Brunello, period. When you are paying $50 for a bottle of wine, or even $5, you should be able to rely on the honesty of the producer.

There are many ethical questions the wine industry can and should address. I’m not sure that this is one of the most egregious ones either but it is symptomatic of corporate cheating that is found in many if not every industry. Get where I’m going here? I’m happy that there are a lot of honest, ethical people, like Giovanni and I am hoping and assuming most of the producers in Montalcino have a greater sense of their ability to make great wine without duping their customers.

I took a respite from writing for a couple of weeks as I was away and every time I attempted to make a blog entry some sort of engagement or crisis came up. But I’m back from NY and LA and ready to go again.

I know what you are wondering…”where did I eat in NY?” This trip was more about seeing my family and catching up with old friends than food. But since you asked here are the highlights embedded in a little atmospheric embellishment.

Sad but true, I had never been to Park Slope before this trip but I went straight from JFK to Sackett Street to see Vanessa (see Ode to Vanessa, Feb. 27th) and Jenny in Brooklyn. After a long walk through Prospect Park we ended up at Blue Ribbon Sushi. What is there to say, Blue Ribbon is as good as west coast sushi gets in Manhattan and as good as west coast sushi gets in Brooklyn. The next day I had a delicious pretzel at Shea Stadium. The game was a bit of bummer…it started out promising as the Mets were all over that awful Jeff Suppan but the Brewers did as much damage to Oliver Perez. Given that the only cinch of warmth came during the 4th inning when one of the stadium lights went on, we left after the fifth inning for the stadium bar and then to the Cubbyhole for some more Scotch. The only thing good I can say about the events of later that night was the drink I ordered, a cross between a martini and a bloody mary. It was so good I had two and trust me, I needed them.

On Monday I met a college friend at a wine tasting in the Puck Building. She had never seen anyone spit wine before and I think she was a little perplexed at this strange ritual. The wines that stood out were the Roger Pouillon Champagnes that were just a bit too good to spit, after all I was on a vakay of sorts. Afterward we walked a few blocks over to the Savoy and had a perfectly simple lunch. I was more interested in the company, as one should always be anyway. Later that night I had dinner with my mom. I could leave it at whatever, Shelley’s on 57th, good seafood, two martinis, it was fine. However, if you find yourself shopping at Bergdorf or going to Carnegie Hall some time, you need to go in to Shelley’s for a drink  as they have the best potato chips ever at the bar. And, my mom is all moved in to her new digs and doing well.

Tuesday brought in the excitement of my appointment at Murray’s Cheeses, which we are now serving at CAV. I had to put some covering on my shoes (but not my hat) before entering the caves. Little do most people know what there is to be found underneath Bleecker Street beyond the sewage. Then I headed up to the Polaner tasting in Gotham Hall. My friends from Louis Dressner were there with a bunch of their producers as were Laura Catena, Peter Wasserman and a mass of others. In the realm of huge wine tastings this was one of the better ones. The only bummer was that all the cheese I ate earlier gave me the stomach ache from hell so I didn’t taste as much as I would have liked. I recovered in time for my dinner at Tia Pol, a Spanish tapas joint on 10th Avenue but by the end of the day I was so spent that I was in my Mets PJ’s by 11.

That brings me to Wednesday, my last full day in NY. Getting out of Brooklyn in the morning to meet a friend at Balthazar at 10 a.m. was not happening so instead we caught up at Strand (books) at 11 and walked over to the Barney’s Coop where I found a present for Cami. I lunched at A Voce with someone who I used to play Barbie dolls with when I was 30. Just kidding, I was about four and just for the record, I was Ken. Michael, our chef, and I had lunch at A Voce last time I was in NY and the food was as good though I think the wine list could be more exciting. I made my Barbie Doll compadre try Fernet for the first time and I have news for all of you being that might have been my last. I just can’t drink it anymore. I went to the Biennial at the Whitney afterward and felt seriously ill. Yet another sign of age…my knees are starting to hurt, it takes a little bit longer to stand up, most of my 25 year old staff has never heard of “Hogan’s Heroes” and my liver has lost its once voracious ability to process Fernie.

The day ended at Smiths, a new restaurant on MacDougal with my friend Dov from college who I haven’t seen in a couple of years. The food was good, the space tastefully designed with a lot of dark wood and the floor staff was really nice, especially considering that we were a half hour late. Back in the good ole’ days, the summer of 1988 when I was basking in the garbage strike in Philadelphia during record breaking heat, and the political discussions were about Dukakis and Poppy, Dov and I used to drink Sambuca. We also watched our share of John Waters’ movies. We’ve both switched to wine and Scotch and I have not seen a John Waters film since the original Hairspray but it was still like hanging out with my old Sambuca buddy. Only twenty years later we were talking about Barack and Hillary, his kids and my restaurant. In twenty years I am sure we will be talking about some other political nitwits, where his kids are going to grad school and my gout and gallstones as if no time has gone by.

I left NY on Thursday and less than 24 hours later headed to LA, this time with Cami. The highlight….I negotiated a good deal on a convertible from Enterprise so we drove around LA in full LA style, with the top down, listening to satellite radio, thinking, ‘aren’t we beautiful,’ only we really were. The purpose of this trip was to spend Passover with my sister, her family and some of her friends. The holidays are about family, right, not religion. That is what we told Cami as it was her first Passover Seder and our version is pretty non-sectarian and last about five minutes. What we did not prepare her for though was the deadly Gefilte fish. I’m used to my annual dose of nastiness but my girl from Texas was truly horrified. Had we not stopped at the Beverly Hills Hotel for a couple of drinks beforehand (you got it, two martinis for me) I might be looking for a new place to live. So you are probably thinking, ok, Gefilte fish is awful but the matzo ball soup makes up for it, right? In an ideal world yes but for some reason matzo ball soup didn’t make it to the menu.

Since getting back on Sunday I’ve been catching up, not feeling the least bit rested. The good news is that the boys kept the place from burning down in my absence. The bad news is that the Mets are playing like a little league team. Anyway, I’ll be posting more often. If you want more details on some of the places where I dined, email me, Pamela@cavwinebar.com.

Cheerio…PSB

It’s been a while since I’ve written and there is a lot to say. In order of importance:

First, Baseball season has begun. As there are over 150 games to go, I’m not going to get worked up about the Mets’ sucky start. If there is any comfort, the Yankees are not doing much better.

While on the topic of sports, the Sports Illustrated Curse strikes again. They are always wrong. So wrong. Really off. When I got my copy of SI at the beginning of the NCAA tournament and saw that they picked UCLA over Kansas in the final, I knew that my adopted college sports team was not going to win. With every game I expected a crushing loss. It finally happened on Saturday. UCLA was paralyzed by the curse that manifested itself in the form of Memphis’s speed. Since I’ve spent some time in Memphis and like it, I’m really hoping that SI picked Kansas. By the way, if anyone who reads this is a Detroit Tigers’ fan forget it, you’re cursed too.

Now for what you are probably wondering about, how did I break my detox? Did I go to Martuni’s and have a lost weekend? Too cliché. Did I celebrate with super expensive Champagne? Too bourgeois. Technically speaking, I broke my detox while I tasted some samples of ’07 German wines last Tuesday. As expected they were gut…sehr gut. The standouts were the Rebholz Riesling vom Muschelkalk Trocken, Monchof Riesling Kabinett Urziger Wurzgarten and Kunstler Riesling Kabinett Hochheimer Reichestal Kabinett. However, the wine that brought me back to the world of drinking was the Gunderloch Riesling Rothenberg Fass GU 22. It seemed like it was Auslese level and it may be one of the most delicious things I’ve ever tried. I just couldn’t spit.

I dined at La Ciccia that evening where I officially ended my detox. I’ve heard great things about this restaurant but you never know, right. The wine list is all-Italian with a concentration on Sardinia. I had a glass of G&A Ragnedda Chardonnay/Vermentino and shared a bottle of the Azienda Mesa Carignano del Sulcis ‘Buio Buio’ with my dinner companions. It is such a pleasure to go into a restaurant and find a bunch of wines that I want to drink that are not on my list.

I know Massimo, the chef and owner, from his days at Winebow. I used to bug him to get my Juve Y Camps Cava from New Jersey before their current distributor had the sense to start selling it. Anyway, he remembered me because of the cava (he didn’t say it but may have been thinking ‘ oh no, there’s that pain in the ass’).

We tried a range of dishes and while everything wasn’t perfect, it was very authentic. When I say everything wasn’t perfect it wasn’t like a dish didn’t work but more a case of something being over salted. Trust me, that never happens at CAV ☺.   Without going into detail about every morsel we ate, I will say that La Ciccia is in my top 100.

Speaking of which, we made it.  I knew we were being considered for the Chronicle’s Top 100 but I wasn’t sure we’d be included because you never really know. My best friend left a voice mail for me on Friday asking how it felt when I woke up knowing that CAV made it to the Top 100. I’m almost positive that the first thought on my mind was the same as every other morning, “gotta pee.” Then, my mind probably drifted to what routine I was going to do at the gym followed by the next big decision, make oatmeal or get a Balance Bar. It is a great honor though. With all the restaurants in the Bay Area, to be selected as one of the hundred best is rewarding and inspiring. I was glad to see some of my other favorites on the list like SPQR, Slow Club and Sushi Ran.

Anyway, I need to get back to work now. I’m meeting Lucas, my sports buddy, in two hours to watch the NCAA championship game. Everyone else seems to either be sick or not wanting to venture out. Until next time…PSB

I thought some of you might want to read this. It was published in Saturday’s San Francisco Examiner. http://www.examiner.com/a-1293865~Tasting_Wine__The_business_of_the_wine_business.html

Terry Hall from Napa Vintners sent in a comment to my last blog entry. You can read it below.  I sent him a response privately but her comment got me thinking.

I’ve been told by several community center board members that the vintners are not only interested in doing this event again next year but double the number are want to participate. I think that’s great.

There are a lot of good causes out there. I am asked at least once a week to donate a gift certificate, dinner, wine or participate in some other way to a health charity, school auction or something else that is worthwhile. CAV is a small business and we can’t do everything. The same is true of most wineries. Of course I realize that lack of participation does not mean someone or a business does not support the cause and I think I implied that in my previous blog entry. There are simple realities like only having so much money and time. We can only do as much as we can do.

At CAV, we try to augment our giving by taking advantage of things like Women’s History Month to raise funding for the Breast Cancer Emergency Fund. Others hold similar fund raising efforts. This evening we are running a chef’s tasting menu and 25% of the proceeds are going to the BCEF. We’ve been pouring a flight of wines made by women all month and will donate 10% of this revenue to the BCEF as well. Over the weekend we are participating in the Unicef TAP Project to help raise money so people in other parts of the world can have clean drinking water.

Why am I mentioning this? Are we so flush that we can afford to do donate the proceeds from part of our revenue? Doing business in San Francisco is an expensive proposition and we are still technically just a start up so the answer is absolutely not. I really do believe that good will goes a long way in terms of marketing. Mostly though, I think that most small business owners who use assets of their business this way are primarily motivated not by self serving interest but by a desire to help out our brothers and sisters who do not have the same freedoms and basic human needs. And, to quote that great early 21st century philosopher, Stephen Colbert, that’s the word.