Dying for a Drink in Portland, Part Two

Well, what I was thinking (see the last line of my previous post) was that I had better take my own advice and get me to the Indie (see my post before the previous post). So with the weight of three prime ales sloshing around in my stomach, I waddled to my car and drove (I should have walked) down to the Urban Wineworks where the second day of the Indie had just begun.

I've been in attendance, and actually part of the judging team, for all four of the Indie Wine Festivals, and I must say that it has developed into a signature Northwest wine event. I know I said that in my earlier post, but it's true (and I have no official connection with the event, other than has a happy contributor of time and an honest buyer of tickets).

While I was unable to attend on Saturday, I was most impressed with the Sunday pourings (wineries whose wines made the judges' cut are poured over the weekend, with half the wineries on Saturday and the other half on Sunday, so I missed part of the group). On average I found them to be of a higher level of quality and consistency than in previous years . . . though for the first half hour or so I had to confine myself to the wineries pouring in the one large tasting room that had a bathroom, in order to accommodate the demands of my digested beer (which brings up the question of how beer can so rapidly translate into urine. Does it actually get digested, or just beat its way to the nearest exit?)

I had fun bumping into a variety of local folks, from fellow media to friendly winemakers. One particularly pleasant conversation I had was with Alice Feiring, New York-based wine writer and author of the just released book The Battle For Wine and Love, Or, How I Saved the World From Parkerization. Clever title, that.

I had briefly met Alice at previous Indie events. She is a good friend of Lisa Donoughe (LAD Communications) who runs the Indie, and she was attending this Indie partly to moderate a panel on "natural wines," a subject of great interest to her, and on which she is an authority. She had no particular reason to remember me, so when I found myself tasting at the same table next to her, I reintroduced myself. It seems my face had rung a bell.

"Oh, I couldn't decide if you were that nasty blogger or the guy from Northwest Palate," she said. I think we were both relieved that I wasn't the nasty blogger.

We had a nice conversation about writing, I complemented her on the publication of her book (which I am happy to say she signed for me), I asked her how she did it, since I am embarking on a book of my own, and was completely intimidated by the speed with which she produced her draft (well under the year that I have!). She even invited me to drop her an email should I have any questions, which made me feel honored—not all wine writers with a national reputation have been as engaging and nice to a regional writer as Alice was with me.

We were tasting Pinot noirs from Vidon Vineyard, a label that was new to me. They had three 2006 Chehalem Mountain wines, with varying sources and degrees of oak influence. All were well done and impressive.

A few other wines that stood out for me at the Indie included these:
>2007 Chehalem Mountains Nicholas Estate Riesling from Anam Cara
>2006 Yamhill-Carlton District Estate Reserve Pinot Noir from Carlton Hill
>2006 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir from Grochau Cellars
>2006 Dundee Hills Winter’s Hill Pinot Noir from Matello (Marcus Goodfellow, or Mad Wine Company)
>2006 Willamette Valley Chardonnay from Pudding River
>2005 Rogue Valley Merlot/Cabernet Franc from Volcano Vineyards

There were others that were good. Pretty much all of them in fact. Only one wine I tasted stood out as questionable, and I'm not going point it out. Could have been a bad bottle.

But by around 5:00 pm, who was I to say a bottle was bad or good? On top of my beers, I had absorbed unknown amounts of residual alcohol from two hours of wine tasting. Sure, I spit (I am a professional, after all), but as we all know that doesn't prevent alcohol absorption.

So around 5:00 pm, with the warm sun beckoning, my cheeks glowing, and my mind beginning to wander, I quit the Indie so that I could burn off some . . . calories . . . walking around for an hour or so before I headed off to my next event of the day . . . an educational bitters-and-spirits cocktail seminar at Teardrop Lounge.

Because, clearly, I had not yet had enough to drink.