By Leticia Borges.

There’s much to be said about big wineries that produce massive amounts of wine per year. Unfortunately, not all of it is good. Small production wineries may lack the big brand names but often produce much better wine. The problem is that they also lack the massive marketing machinery to get their wines out there which explains why you probably have never heard of them. Neither had I, but once I did, my wine world was never the same.

A few years ago, I hired a private wine tour company to help me plan my first real visit to wine country. I liked Jordan Wines, so I asked them to include Jordan in the roster. The rest was up to them. Why not? I was on vacation. There was wine involved. Someone sober was driving.

Jordan did not disappoint. The grounds were stunning and the setup was beautiful. We had dimmed lights inside a cave, gorgeous glasses, cheese plates, assorted crackers, olive oil samples and the wines were better than I remembered. My first official wine tasting expedition was a success and the day looked promising.

As we left Jordan, our driver received a call from the next winery. There was an issue at the tasting room and they needed to move our reservation. The winemaker offered to host the tasting at his house and I was completely stumped by the offer. What? The winemaker wants to host us at his home? What kind of a moonshine backyard setup was this guy running? My instinct was to pass, but our driver knew the owners and promised we would have a good time.

I eased into the idea by imagining a lavish five-star Villa surrounded by 10 acres of perfectly manicured vineyards. The two glasses of wine I had at Jordan made me more understanding of the situation. Plus, we were on vacation, there was wine involved, someone sober was driving, how bad could this really be?

From fancy Villa to kitchen table.

After a short drive, we entered a neighborhood like any other neighborhood in middle America. Some houses were large. Some were modest. A few had a front lawn, others had small porches. No vineyards. No Villas. No lavish lifestyles. It was clear these people woke up every morning to earn a living. Not cool.

Our driver pulled into a driveway and turned off the engine. Admittedly, I second guessed our decision. Why didn’t we cancel? It was too late to change my mind, so I decided to get through it as fast as we could and take the opportunity to try some honest-to-goodness, made in America, “wine-shine”.

We headed to the front porch. Within two seconds, a black Labrador puppy came running out of the backyard to welcome us. A woman in her early thirties, with a bright honest smile and the most beautiful long bouncy curls, came out of the house to greet us. She apologized for the mishap at the tasting room, introduced us to Penelope, the puppy, and invited us into her home. Her name was Kandice and she was the winemaker’s wife. The house was comfortable and the décor welcoming. There was warmth in the way things were arranged. Penelope’s bed was three times her size and was filled with toys. You could tell she was the queen of the house.

Kandice invited us to sit at the dining table where she had arranged five unopened bottles of wine. Apparently, she was hosting a tasting for the entire neighborhood! Five bottles? That couldn’t be just for us. She snatched three glasses from the sideboard, pulled up a chair, grabbed a bottle and started to uncork it. “Are we expecting more people?” I finally asked glancing at the five bottles. “Oh no, this is just for us.” She replied with a playful grin. “We’re having some fun today girls”. It was not a bad start.

We talked about life, the kitchen remodel, her trips to Hawaii, our families, the dogs. In between stories, she told us about the label and how they came up with the logo, she described the winemaking process and, of course, she articulated what made her hubby’s wine one of the best in Napa. Her conversation was engaging and her pours were, let’s just say, generous. We tried a variety of vintages and they were all silky, well balanced and sexy. Each one had its own characteristics but they all shared an elegant intensity that evolved into smooth flavors with lingering complex finishes.

By the time we reached that third bottle, we had pretty much forgotten about Jordan. All we wanted to do was cancel the next tasting and hang out with Kandice all afternoon. In the middle of our loud –did I say loud? – laughs, we heard the porch door.

Mark, the winemaker had arrived. He hugged us as if we were old friends. He kissed Kandice, grabbed a glass and sat with us at the table. It became clear that they were both very much into generous pours. He was humble and genuinely passionate about his wine. It was fascinating to hear him talk about the risks of a rainy year, the perils of the drought and how each wine had been impacted by nature that year. He was intimately involved in every aspect of the process from handpicking the grapes to signing the bottles destined for club members. I couldn’t help but feel that they were sharing a piece of their lives with us.

What’s in a name?

I learned an important wine lesson that day. You should never judge a wine by its brand, or lack thereof. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t dislike wines like Jordan or Sterling. If someone brings either one of those wines to a party, I’ll still drink it. The problem is that, after our experience with Kandice and Mark, I can no longer get enthused about a bottle that came from an annual production of 100,000 cases and was touched by 600 employees in a 15,000 square foot manufacturing facility. I now understand the complexities involved in wine production and the passion required for a small family owned winery to succeed in this business. There’s something magical about knowing that their blood, sweat and tears are mixed in the soil and there’s nothing they would rather be doing.

Thanks Mark and Kandice Jessup at J. Gregory, for changing the way I think of wine. Because of you, I learned that:

1) A known brand doesn’t mean great wine.
2) There is much more inside a bottle than the amount of money spent on its marketing.
3) Big isn’t always better, no matter what he says.