Santa Cruz: Something New

Scanning my Santa Cruz itinerary, I was jazzed to see that my first stop would be Kathryn Kennedy Winery. I took it as a good omen seeing as a) I became a KK stan after attending a Santa Cruz master class shortly pre-pandemic, b) I love highlighting woman-founded wineries, and c)…okay the c didn’t come until right before I took off from Los Angeles, as I realized I was going to miss a hurricane (wtf). A feeling of relief only co-signed one day into my trip by medium-plus notes of the Los Angeles earthquake the next day in my absence. It's ironic, considering I was headed to a region on the San Andreas fault. The natural disaster gods were looking out for me. And then there were the wine gods—Bacchus had my back to boot. Santa Cruz is a decidedly ocean-influenced region but also the very first AVA defined by its mountainous elevation. Both oceanic and mountainous factors bring cooling and—lucky us acid-heads— plentiful acidity and freshness to the wines. Then there’s the kiss the sea breeze brings to the game. And yet, then, there’s the presence of the towering redwoods. However, the sequoias play in, and I could swear I was getting the occasional fresh woodsy notes in the wines. One way or another, both the wines and the trees seem to soar. While these terroir-based factors form a throughline, I found the biggest winemaker-to-winemaker similarity was actually the lack of homogeneity—at least in technique. Nearly every winemaker I met was doing something different, something experimental, and overall, something that made winemaking FUN, both for the winemaker and wine-enjoyer. Even if beneath it all, every winemaker assured me that the wines of Santa Cruz are indelibly just that—defined ultimately by their cooler climate grace. Armed with cool-climate knowledge, but before I was charmed by the playfulness of the region, I touched down in San Jose and cruised through Silicon Valley, primed to taste the Kathryn Kennedy Winery’s dazzlingly elegant Cabernets, which I did…eventually. But what Marty Mathis, Kennedy’s son and current winemaker, was REALLY excited about were the white wines he was experimenting with. Granted, Mathis made a point of his desire to continue in his mother’s footsteps—after all, she was the first person in the region to make a wine bottled under a woman’s name. He continues to craft uber-elegant Cabs in her style with aplomb and passion! But much as his mother was a pioneer in the region, he is particularly thrilled with his white wine dalliances. He started me with Albariño off the vine, then in the glass. Given that Albariño’s home is Spain’s Rias Baixas, right by the sea, I could see how the grape suits Santa Cruz. He also tasted me through a homemade Garganega (not for purchase…yet!), a Gruner Veltliner, and a Godello, all delightfully crisp but characterful. More varietal exploration came up at my next stop, House Vineyards, where winemaker Jim Cargill plays with grape varieties and grape sources, including Malbec from as far away as Argentina. “I bring wine from other regions to educate…to compare and contrast,” stated Cargill. In addition to extra-SC-curricular grapes, part of the fun House has had was going in hardcore on the science before planting the land. I’m talking about GPS scans, weather stations, heat maps, etc. Natural-minded playfulness was afoot in Madson Wines’ offerings, named for his paternal grandmother. Winemaker Cole Thomas, in addition to crafting one of my favorite Chardonnays of the trip, the Misty Gulch Vineyard Chard that was flinty AF and sang to me all night long (in my head), is leaning into how far a natural wine can go. He made one Gamay with a pinch of sulfur and one without. Both were excellent in their own right. The funny thing is that he thought that the one with sulfur would show more like a Cru Beaujolais and more the other like Beaujolais, but the wines flip-flopped…which was which? Try and tell me what you think. At this point, I wish I had a separate article for every winery I visited. Everyone was so passionate both in what they were doing that was unique and for what Santa Cruz has to offer with its unique terroir. So please know that wineries not mentioned in the body of the article are likely found below in the tasting notes and that if I could, I’d have an entire article for every winery I visited. There is a really undeniable spirit of both adventure and passion for the land in Santa Cruz. I’m capturing what I can, but I have ages to go. One of the experiments I heard more than one winemaker dabbling in was whole-cluster fermentation. Madson made a Pinot that was 100 percent whole cluster. Big Basin did too. Ryan Alfaro, winemaker at Alfaro Family Vineyards and Winery, is making miracles with the technique. I’ve tasted a lot of stem inclusion wines that make me feel like I’m sucking on a dry grapevine, but the winemakers in Santa Cruz are nailing it, using bunches that achieve phenolic ripeness to add flavor at the same time taming some of the regions’ brisker acidity. After hearing a boatload of enthusiasm for whole-cluster from my earlier interviews, I got a slightly different perspective from winemaker Eug Theron of Charmant Vineyards, who told me he feels he is still learning. Two thousand seventeen was their first bottled vintage. They are getting a solid grip on farming and winemaking without many bells and whistles, not to mention interventions. Their wines are made with gravity, sans fining or filtration. At some point, whole cluster experiments and the like could make their way into their rotation, but not yet. Charmant’s other experiments are still in the offing, with dreams of paying homage to Eug and his wife Jules’ South African heritage via Chenin Blanc and Pinotage plantings. In the meantime, the wines are playful, evocative and delicious, and their thoughtful tasting room’s utterly unique chocolate pairings give them a signature move in a region where, as Eug said, there’s “unconventional authenticity, everyone in Santa Cruz is trying to be different.” At Lester Estate Wines, the play is not in the variety nor one specific practice but in the “who” of it all. Lester selects winemakers who are given carte blanche to do what they will with allotted parcels of the winery’s Deer Park Ranch’s plantings, a concept that their ambassador, Steve Johnson, told me they were told was a bad plan. But some research revealed that, whaddya know, no one else was doing it. The experiment was to see what happened when “pinot is the palette, and the winemaker is the artist.” The results are a marvelous variety of styles, which somehow all still showcase the acid-forward charm of the region, whether dabbed across new oak or blended into bubbles. It was fitting my stop after Lester was a dinner with John Benedetti of Sante Arcangeli—he is one of the winemakers Lester taps. Beyond being a part of the Lester trials, Benedetti is making his own stamp on the region by printing voluntary ingredient labels on the back of the wines. You get everything from Brix at harvest to yeast strains to cooperage. The attention to detail shows in the wines, too. Windy Oaks, my last stop, was ALL about the innovation in the vineyard and the winery. Every other sentence from executive winemaker Jim Schultze’s mouth seemed to start with “I took this class” or even “I took a class in Burgundy.” He spoke at length on the benefits of the wind machine he bought: getting rid of small pests without pesticides, increased productivity with better fruit set, killing mildew, and more. They make “natural wines without calling them natural wines,” meaning no additives, pumping, filtering or fining… so a well-maintained vineyard is crucial. I tasted vibrant, expressive, and goshdurnit beautiful wines there. Also, they have winery cats. So. Where does all this character come from? “We’re a region full of individuals,” said Stephen Storrs of Storrs Winery, who stated that he came here because he felt like he’d learn more. I learned a lot on this trip—new vineyard gadgets, new winemaking techniques, new tweaks—basically, every winery was a new experience. Still, the throughline was the spirit of experimentation to showcase what Santa Cruz can do. And now, a far from exhaustive list of some favorites tasted: 2006 Kathryn Kennedy Meow to the OG KK Cab. Floral scented nose. On the palate, it’s a fun pas de deux of greenery and caramel. You get that it is older, with wise notes of fruit that has experience showing up, but also, there’s still a vibrance and acidity that makes it belie its age. In short, it’s an extraordinarily aged Cabernet bringing life after…age? But also just the life spice, acid, and brightness. So good. 2017 House Family Vineyards Santa Cruz Mountains Cabernet Sauvignon 78% Cabernet Sauvignon, 11% Merlot, the remaining 11% a mix of Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot. Bright and shiny in spirit, it shows off those hip saline vibes and sage grassy hints—all the while bringing ripe fruit of the dark fruit kingdom. And then there’s a ballast of chalk and earth taking it all home. 2020 Sandar & Hem Bruzzone Vineyard Chardonnay Rippingly bright and healthily acidic with minerality and salinity galore ending in tropical notes. Go get them. This was one of my favorites of Sandar & Hem’s Chardonnays, but I can’t wait to see what their forthcoming ventures bring. Madson Wines Misty Gulch Chardonnay My obsession at the winemaker dinner my first night in. It has that gunflinty reductive nature balanced with light fruit and acidity, but the minerality slays. This wine. Slays. 2021 Alfaro Family Vineyards & Family Lindsay Paige Vineyard Pinot Noir Super fresh and saline! But further on the palate brings cherry vanilla cola. There’s less stems and more wood on it, something winemaker Ryan Alfaro looks at as a yin-yang thing. The balance he finds in this wine is genuinely zin, so the metaphor checks out. 2018 Charmant Vineyards Diana’s Block Pinot Noir Like some others in the Charmant estate, this parcel was named for a woman in Eug and Jules Theron’s lives—in this case, Eug’s sister. It has a charming (of course!) nose of all the colors of berry you can imagine from red to black and all the red-purples in between, but it leans into a black cherry spectrum with whispers of licorice, cedar, and gum drops. The palate is super smooth, with fine-grained tannins spreading horizontally across the palate, giving the illusion of wine breaking through a damn. There’s energy, but it spreads gently and finishes like cherry cordials and cinnamon sticks dancing. 2021 Lester Estate Wines Sparkling Rosé of Pinot Noir The first wine I tasted at the estate, and the one I opted to take a bottle with me when the offer arose—although, believe you me, I’d have taken the lot if I could have. This is super citrus forward on the nose—barely ripe yellow grapefruit and a hint of earth and even petrichor. Go figure. The palate is zippy, a combination of beet juice mixed with a lemon-lime slice (but none of it sweet) with just a dash of daisies. The bubbles are spritely but plush, ushering the acid through to a pleasantly buzzy finish. 2022 Sante Arcangeli Family Wines Rosé of Pinot Noir A blend of saignée and direct press, and a direct hit (in my mouth). So crisp, so saline (again, I know. Don’t blame me, blame the fog) with a tea rosebud nose that slays. I started and ended my last night in Santa Cruz with it. 2018 Windy Oaks Estate Old Vine Estate Chardonnay Unfined, unfiltered, pure joy. It gives gunflint followed by melon and tropicality. There’s so much minerality cutting through, taming the ample toast and butterscotch. Really sublime. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Want to read more from Ellen? 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