No Holds Barra

I was generously offered the wines of Barra to try, and I’ll be honest, they had me at Mendocino. It’s region I had started a love affair with before I even breathed its air.

Then, I visited–the first trip I took post vaccine–and omg there was romance added to the love affair, like the lover becoming a real person, one who surprises you and becomes more a whole person, while maintaining their mystique because damn, every precious thing you discover about them, well, each quirk and nuance makes each day with them a new one. Sure, I only spent a few days in Mendocino but I am madly enraptured with the land, the people and yes the wine too.

So yes obvi I wanted to taste the wines. Barra is made with certified organic grapes and coaxed into wine status by Randy Meyer, who, much like many other Mendocino winemakers I met, holds hats for a few operations. He’s steering Barra and its other label Girasole, and he has a custom crush joint.

I appreciated the note that arrived with the wines informing me they don’t print tech sheets, but please find the information online. I end up with major tech sheet pile up sometimes so this is a good step. The wines followed suit–all showing a freshness that chills out a ripeness, and all over makes for balanced delight.

Barra Mendocino Reserve Chardonnay 2021

Just that hint of gunflint-y minerality battles the marshmallow and vanillin effect of oak and in the end they partner up quite happily. Warming nose, filled with aforementioned minerals and nutmeg, citrus compound butter and yellow pear, full-figured body (not quite voluptuous) brings all of the above, all with a bit butterscotch. Lovely and silky and just rich enough to be a winter white but lively enough to face a hot day too.

Barra Mendocino Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2020

All vibrant blackberry and black currant (so different from red) jam on the nose with hints of tobacco and just a touch of dried vine zest–JUST a tiny touch, like one finger gently place on the lips telling the pyrazines to whisper. Supple on the palate, neither heavy nor light, but somehow more than medium bodied–like it glides with some drag–and boasts expansive stewed berries (mostly black and blue) thinned just enough to slide through the mouth guiding professor-ly (like they wear tweed) hints of black currant, vanilla bean through. Shades of dried earth and cloves come in in the finish. It manages to be bright and classy, despite having rather elevated tannins and alcohol. Very friendly.

Barra Reserve Pinot Noir 2021

A nice little slip dress of a Pinot. A noir one, naturally. Lithe, pleasing, easy going. The nose brings ripe but not jammy cherries and makes me think “cherry Gushers” but not sweet. A mid-level palate, this wine has a texture to it, with drying tannins, that serve as a conductor of all the undercurrents in this wine–cola, tea, and mint. The big currents though? The ones that parade loudly? That’s more cherry. Vanilla bean. Allspice and cordial. Truly a pleasing specimen–and one of the things that endears me to Mendocino is evident here in spades: the fruit is ripe but not overly jammy or overly oaky, sort of how Oregon Pinots show to me these days. Damn this is good.

Sweets My Sweet

Every year Valentine’s Day happens. Of course. Same as every year, every yearly thing happens and yet somehow it throws us for a loop. It’s astounding how every late autumn we are like “OH. My. GOD. It is getting dark so early!” as if that hadn’t been happening at the same time every year all of our lives.

Still some things seem like big things. Valentine’s Day needn’t be. I’m comfy being single. There is romance in my life here and there but until I find my lobster I’m chill celebrating it single.

Oh um well that is until love finds me. I yearn for that but also oh f#*k I’m kinda busy for all that so why don’t I open some sweet wine for everyone.

Romancing one’s self (take that whatever direction you want) is an art. Wine is art. And wine as romance makes you the goddamned Mona Lisa for a minute. Today I have a sweet charmer to act both as a love letter to yourself and/or companions. It is actually a fortified wine–that is the wine is made and then there is extra alcohol added. That was way too simplified a description of the process, but that’s for another day. In the meantime, here’s your Valentine:

Gigondas La Cave Terres Blonde Muscat Beams de Venise is lithe, stone fruit forward with a solid lick of salinity and zooms of hyper-orange-blossom-water. Elegant and zing-y, light on its toes with a core of minerality. And yes it is sweet, but you know how you eat a nice ripe piece of fruit and yes, it is sweet, but “this is sweet!” is not what you would say, but rather, “this is a good piece of fruit”? Well, this wine is a good piece of fruit. Sort of a floral melon genre undervibe, and all over refreshing, too. hot air balloon vibes in that it is vibrant but lifted and soaring in an anchored sort of way. To sum up the tasting notes, it’s all melon and stone fruit and white roses that chill on wet stones.