Last Saturday, eight of us sank into the adirondack chairs on our tasting room lawn with a bottle of Fumé and didn’t want to get up. That night got me thinking about why we just applied for a certification I’m honestly not a huge fan of. by Chad
Hands waving from the animated storyteller, cheeks hurting from laughter, Fumé in hand, resting in adirondack chairs on our tasting room lawn. That’s the scene last Saturday with a group of us — enjoying and lingering in a moment none of us wanted to leave. The Fumé had its own story to tell, on the heels of applying for a certification I’m not a huge fan of — but we’re committed to where it takes us: protecting and building our soil. And soil — well, you can smell it in some of our wines. Wine is about place, and this place has a story to tell this week.
Our friend’s story last weekend was a blast. There were eight of us, two generations from two families and friends of the family. The storyteller – an awesome Mom – was there with her husband, son and his fiancée. Our middle son Jackson joined in, sensing we were all enjoying ourselves. The story had us laughing hysterically — imagine you accidentally texted something random into a “serious” text string with your in-laws. Then scrambling to unwind what had just been sent. While your husband, somewhere else, gets eyes as big as a cartoon character about to be run over by a train. It was a moment we relaxed into — those adirondack chairs none of us wanted to leave, the late-day sun and shadows, the company, and the Fumé.
It’s the Fumé that got me thinking. Not a person in the group was there to get drunk. The wine, the place — they were an invitation. An invitation to be together and relax. After all, as parents, as children, isn’t it time together and the memories of fun stories that we all hunger for? As we finished the bottle, it brought me full circle to the moment our friends had arrived. “Hi guys, so glad to see you.” “We’re so glad to be here — can we get a bottle of Fumé and some glasses?” Then that image of my friend: Fumé by the neck, shoulders relaxed, smile on, glasses in his other hand, heading down to be with his family and friends.
If you’ve had our Fumé, this might be easier to relate to. If not — the name is simply our tribute to Robert Mondavi, who introduced it to re-popularize Sauvignon Blanc in the late 1960’s. So Fumé Blanc is our wine’s name, but it’s 100% Sauvignon Blanc. Don’t let the name take away from what this fantastic grape naturally delivers. At our elevation — about 1,250 feet — it creates a more citrus-forward version of it. Think bright, crisp, mouth-watering, storytelling wine.
And after this past week, our wines — and in particular our vines’ — story feels like it’s opening another chapter. We grow Sauvignon Blanc (our Fumé), Chardonnay (think Chablis style), and Pinot Noir (think life changing). What I’m about to share is somewhat of a conflicted milestone: we applied for our organic certification this past week. Three years of farming organically gave us the ability to apply.
The conflicted part? The organic standard allows tillage. And the whole goal of our journey is to protect and build the soil — remember, “don’t till your garden”. So why would we apply for a certification we don’t fully believe in? Because it lets us apply for Regenerative Organic Certification. Gosh — Sustainable WA, Salmon Safe, Organic, Regenerative Organic — maybe there’s a certification for being certified, lol. In other words: what’s the point? The main point is improving and protecting our farm’s precious soil, period.
Certifications have shown us two important things. First, they make us raise our standards. Second, they bring us into a network where we can learn — and where we get put on the map. People are looking for ways to consume nutrient-dense, planet-saving food from a place they can see in person or on a map. The organic standard allows tillage, and we don’t agree with that — but we also know there are farming systems still struggling to find alternatives to tillage, so sometimes it’s still necessary.
Ultimately, all of this brings me back to wine — because wine is about place and soil. For me, Red Mountain is one of the most pronounced, distinctive places in our state. Our reserve Cabernet — mmm — smells like Red Mountain. And our Estate Chardonnay — mmm — my mouth waters thinking about its bright, vibrant acidity and gorgeous minerality. We like to compare it to Chablis. Still Chardonnay, still Burgundy in spirit — but oh my, what a reflection of place.
In the beginning of this blog, wine was an invitation — to a place, to time with loved ones. The Fumé was that invite. The certification is about caring for that place, making it better for future generations, hoping it gives us better food and wine. Wine speaks of where it’s from. It grounds us. It sparks a picture of its place. The invitation becomes something ethereal, trustable, warm, and calming.
I think this is all about something far greater.
— Connection. —
And — stop tilling your garden.
Cheers!
