We’ve recently begun ordering wine from the Zotovich Family Vineyards, a winery about an hour north of Santa Barbara. It’s a new operation, only in operation since 2010, and a collaboration between an uncle and his nephew, hence the word family. The nephew is young, the ink on his undergrad degree in wine and viticulture is probably still not quite dry, and the uncle doesn’t even bother to mention his own credentials, whatever they may be. There is no sense, however, of the humble up-and-comers hoping to make their way in a venerable old art. Rather, they seem to be taking the position of brazen young rebels, thumbing their noses at Napa. Perhaps not unlike Napa once thumbed their noses at the French.
Here are a few select quotes, because it seems that they make the point a lot more colorfully than I could:
About going winetasting in the “Lompoc Wine Ghetto”, a string of wineries within walking distance of one another, they say, “No more roshambo with friends where some unlucky sap saddles up on a Saturday as the designated driver. That would be so … Napa.”
About their rose wine, they say that it “pairs extremely well with… warm weather and patio furniture.”
They have a winemaker named Dan Schuler-Jones whom they say has his degree in Underwater Basketweaving, which, if you’re unfamiliar with that old joke, means that he did nothing useful in college and seems, in this case, to mean that he was a college buddy of the younger Zotovich, hired with no experience or training.
In talking about a low yield crop they say that it’s because Mother Nature was “stingy” with them.
All this is great, the arrogance and bravado, the open sloppiness. It’s human and it’s, in a way, the most lovable form of brash American entrepreneurialism. And lucky for you, we’re buying your first taste.