When an email invitation arrived in my Inbox, it was an offer I couldn’t refuse. Hardy Wallace, of EWCY! fame, was organizing a charity dinner with Nick Balla, late of Bar Tartine, to be held at the Shulgin Farm, in Lafayette, CA. Alexander (Sasha) Shulgin was an infamous character in my profession. From the late 1960s to the mid 1990s, Shulgin published a series of papers in reputable journals on the synthesis and self-administered study of novel hallucinogenic molecules. This culminated in the publication of two books Phenethylamines I Have Known and Loved (PIHKAL) and a companion book about Tryptamines (TIHKAL). These books ended his career, as the DEA finally had the leverage to shut him down. So, last night my amateur winemaker cousin and I drove to the site where all this rogue science had taken place, following an unmarked road (Shulgin Lane) up into the hills. The invitation that urged us to “bring [our] Burner jackets” led to some trepidation about our fellow attendees and it proved to be quite the motley crowd that did assemble, quite a few of whom were clearly experiencing the event through the lens of one or more entactogens (Google it, y’all).
We were greeted outside of the barn where dinner would served by a jovial Hardy with two wines, the ‘24 Heart and Hummingbird, a pale pink wine that is crazy blend of Chenin, Roussanne, Marsanne, Viognier, Chardonnay and Grenache, and the ‘24 Brousseau Vineyard Chenin Blanc. The former was light, fruity (strawberry), dry and easy, somewhat reminiscent of a pale and still Cerdon de Bugey. I opined to my cousin that it was better suited as an aperitif that for service with food, but my cousin noted that it paired wonderfully with one of the two hors d’oeuvres circulating, a spoonful of albacore tuna with scallions in an outrageously delicious ponzu sauce. The other dish was a gluten-free oat and seed bread covered with goat cheese and English peas, which to me was far less interesting. The Chenin was probably the most varietally correct example I’ve had from CA, albeit in a very lightweight vein. The nose promised much, cantaloupe and quince with a mineral note, but on the palate lacked the depth and intensity of a Loire example, albeit with crisp acidity in a dry package.
At this point, the director of the Shulgin Institute, the beneficiary of the evenings charity dinner, conducted us on a tour of the property. We got to visit the shed that Shulgin converted into a makeshift organic chemistry laboratory. Indeed, in that cramped space I saw a setup aimilar to that in my own laboratory, though without the ventilation and safety features considered essential to the enterprise. (His operation was eventually shut down by the EPA for egregious waste disposal violation).
After that most enlightening tour, we were ushered into the unheated barn for the nights festivities. It was assigned seating so my cousin and I found ourselves seated at a table with the director of the Shulgin Institute, a financial benefactor ftom
Chicago, a lawyer who’d helped set up the Institute from Santa Fe and a childhood friend of his from Virginia. We were quickly embraced by the others when I namedropped my friend and longtime colleague at Purdue Dr David Nichols, whose achievements include having written the Forewords to PIHKAL and TIHKAL. Like our table, the overall crowd seemed to be equally distributed among friends of Hardy and friends of the Institute. The crowd also trended youngish. Maybe 30s for the most part. I was among the oldest people there.
With the first course, the same two wines were served so I had more Chenin. When the delicious salad appeared we got a pour of 2024 Golden Eternity Chardonnay, Mariana’s Vineyard. With the caveat that I am not the biggest fan of this grape, it was clean and decent, medium-light body, lemony fruit with minimal oak influence. Not something I’d go out of my way for.
With the main course we got pours of two more wines, the 2023 Mariana’s Vineyard Merlot and the 2024 Mariana’s Sunset Orange Wine, a skin-contact Chardonnay. The Merlot was the hit of the evening, inky red-purple with a powerful nose of dark cherry fruit and pencil lead. Entry was smooth and lush with deep fruit and a spicy note in the long finish. It was medium-full in body with plenty of acidity to provide structure and make it a great foil for the food. It certainly ranks as the finest CA Merlot I’ve ever tried, though it won’t be mistaken for a Pomerol. In truth, it reminded me more of a good Chinon from a warm vintage (no herbal or green notes). The orange wine was a hazy yellow with bare hints of orange to the color. The nose was quite muted, even with vigorous aeration. The palate impression was similarly muted. The acidity was there, but little in the way of fruit.
With dessert, two more wines were available, the 2023 Space Country Orange Wine and the 2024 Indie Bookstore III Zinfandel. I passed on both, as I was driving us back to San Rafael, but my cousin gave the Zin a taste as he had no such limitation. I’ve liked previous editions of the Indie Bookstore, but my cousin felt that it was too thin for a Zinfandel (his palate is more CA oriented than mine).
Overall, a fun if somewhat surreal event. I told Hardy that I was sad that he didn’t pour Evangelho Mourvèdre, and he confessed that he hadn’t because they were down to 5 cases of it. Quel Dommage! I should also mention that my cousin was convinced that Hardy was tripping balls. He certainly got quite emotional in his speech.
