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We caught up with Steve at his Berkeley home set just blocks from an area affectionately known to the locals as the "Gourmet Ghetto" (imagine being able to call Chez Panisse your neighborhood favorite). We spent the better part of an afternoon picking his brain about Syrah and tasting through his older releases. It was, to say the least, a most instructive day.

We went in search of the "truth" about Syrah and wound up with what at first sounded like the same well-worn truisms one hears at every winery. "Wine is made in the vineyard, Meticulous winery practices are essential. I want my wines to taste like the grapes they are made of, not the barrels they were aged in." As the old saying goes, if we had a nickel for every time a winemaker said those same things in our presence over the last quarter century, we would be rich men.

But, for Steve Edmunds, there is, in fact, a kind of formula, a thesis behind his seemingly common wisdom. Take the question of vineyards, for instance. Edmunds, as you would imagine did not make his first wine as a commercial winemaker but rather as a successful home winemaker. So, when he decided to leave the U. S. Postal Service (the last in a string of jobs many of which were in the wine business and not in the service of our mail), he came with a strong sense that he wanted the grapes for his wines to be grained with the same meticulous care and attention to detail that he had been bringing to his home winemaking.

We asked him why he had chosen to start with grapes from Durell instead of from somewhere else, and the explanation that lay behind his initial "it's the grapes" answer explains volumes about why his wines have been so successful. "You can do everything right in the winery-top your barrels, keep the place meticulous clean-but you still need to have good vineyards. I find more differences in quality levels achieved directly attributable to farming than I do to place". He agrees Syrah varies in character by place but less so in overall quality. The Durell Vineyard, Edmunds explained, was managed to achieve a maximum of four tons to the acre and, more often than not, actually produced only three tons. Other growers, he said, were getting six to eight tons to the acre, sometimes with good character and sometimes with not.

In this issue, the Edmunds St. John Syrah that we review is from El Dorado County and was grown in two vineyards north of Placerville at elevations of about 2,800 feet. Edmunds explains that he was attracted to the area by the comments of visiting French vignerons who felt that the Sierra Foothills looked like prime Syrah territory to them. Typical of Edmunds, he looked for and found a compulsive vineyard manager who leaf thins, drops extra crop, trains his pickers to discard unevenly ripened bunches on the ground. The grapes planted there are the same clone as at Durell, but they ripen 3-4 weeks later, and they achieve full physiological and flavor maturity at lower sugar levels so the wines are lower in alcohol.

As for winemaking, Steve was characteristically low-keyed about his approach. He learned winemaking in painstaking detail when he worked at a homewinemaking outlet in Berkeley in the '70s, "and I had to teach it to others and to then help them figure out what went right and what went wrong". There is nothing particularly revolutionary in that except as to how it oriented his thinking when he went commercial. We were not particularly surprised when he insisted that fruit comes before oak in his wines-all winemakers say that. But few of them actually prefer bigger, older barrels that Edmunds uses. It is not barrel aging that he is avoiding. It is the overriding flavor of oak.

We also went in search for our first retrospective look at the aging of Syrah. Because Edmunds wines have been such favorites (his 1986 version had an honored place at our Millennium dinner), his older Syrahs seemed like the logical place to start. The accompanying tasting notes do not purport to prove that all Syrahs grown in California will age well, but they do show beyond doubt that those from Steve Edmunds will. And, given the propensity of French and Australian efforts to hold up well in bottle, it is not all that surprising to see California Syrahs doing the same.

1986 One of the first California-grown Syrahs to go into our cellars, it is now a fully mature wine and certainly needs to be drunk up over the next few years by anyone who is holding onto it. Still, it shows plenty of complexity in its meaty, spicy, twiggy, dried leaf, earthy aromas, and while it is no longer about fruit per se, so too is it better described as unwinding rather than as decrepit. Its cuvée includes 82% Durell Syrah and 18% Cabernet Franc from the Alexander Valley. One star when first reviewed.

1987 Continuing the theme of 82% Durell Syrah, this time the wine acquires its 18% addition from McDowell Valley Vineyards in Mendocino County in form of Syrah and a bit of Petite Sirah. It is a somewhat more vigorous at this writing than the previous wine, but, during its aging process, it has begun to exhibit a slight edge of sharpness that was pretty much tamped down earlier on by the wine's rich, deep fruit. Now nearing its fourteenth birthday, this one is unlikely to get any better. Three stars when first reviewed.

1989 The least attractive overall of the older wines tasted, this one offers a mix of spices, game and earth in the nose along with a fair glance at fruit. At its age and given the weakness of the vintage, the nose seemed quite promising, and the wine is relatively fit in the mouth as well. Its finish is surprisingly tight and drying, and the tannins that were so massive in its youth are almost certain to outlast everything else here. The best course would be to drink it up sooner rather than later with savory stews. One star when first reviewed.

1990 Starting with this bottling, Edmunds St. John hit the mother lode of Syrah. Lovely when it was young and brilliant now as it moves through its second decade, the wine is still wonderfully fruity with a bit of rounding coming into the solid blackberry and very slightly raspberry qualities of its fruit. Complexing elements of game and spice are held in the background in the manner that is typical of the vineyard, but the wine's depth and overall sense of energy marks it as first-class. It will hold well for another five years easily and could well last twice that long. Three stars when first reviewed.

1991 But, just to prove that predictions are always fraught with peril, here is a wine that we thought would hold forever and seems now to be a little less well-endowed with the kind of fruit that would carry it that far. Yet, this one is more complex than the '90 and in some ways is the more complete overall. Both wines are, of course, entirely desirable and will reward all those who have the good fortune to own them. Three stars when first reviewed.

1992 and 1993 The next four wines were tasted side-by-side as a set. They are all very ripe in orientation-over 15% alcohol-and each was well-liked in its initial review some six or seven years ago. Steve Edmunds told us that he felt this group pretty much showed that ripeness and Syrah are not alien to each other. And, of course, as he pointed out, there are plenty of 14-15% alcohol red Rhônes and Aussie Shirazes in this world. Both Grand Heritage wines are about 60% Durell Vineyard, Carneros and 40% Fenaughty Vineyard, El Dorado County.

1992 This wine has stood up well and should have the depth to go another half dozen or more years. It is still a bit firm in feel and could probably benefit from some roundness and fleshiness to go along with its ripe fruit and spicy, peppery themes. Time may help a little in that regard, but our sense is that this one will always be somewhat less forthcoming than its vintage partner. One star when first reviewed.

1992 Grand Heritage Arguably one of the stars of the show, this wine might be faulted by some for its sheer weight and viscosity, but nowhere is it ever out of balance. That happy result probably has a lot to do with the phenomenal depth and range that it shows in aromas and flavors of game, spices, tobacco, minerals and concentrated black cherry fruit. It should grow for a half decade and should last twice that long. Two stars when first reviewed.

1993 Among the thoughts we entertained while tasting this wine was how different its aging curve was from Zinfandels of the same vintage. Whereas Zins approaching their eighth birthday would, in many cases, be rounding out and losing their bright fruit, this wine is still tight, relatively unevolved and simply loaded with blackberry and quietly cassis-like fruit. It is a bit chunky with tannins still, and it could age anywhere from five to twenty more years. Two stars when first reviewed.

1993 Grand Heritage Perhaps showing its ripeness in a slightly more obvious and outgoing way than the Durell, this version of Grand Heritage is a trifle more open and carries a bit more of the gamy Syrah aspect than the unblended Durell. This one, like its vintage mate, is still on the young side, but it may not have quite the same underlying ageworthiness. Five to ten years of staying power is in the cards in any event. One star when first reviewed.

1994 For most wines in the North Coast, this one included, '94 was a year of direct fruit, and that is what this wine smells of even today. It is almost young enough to put into a tasting of current wines because from its dark color to its complex meat and earth components, it is still in its formative years. Two stars when first reviewed.

1995 Ninety-five was not a year in which we favored the Durell Syrah, but this bottling is certainly showing well enough to treat with some forbearance. Its dry tannins have changed little in the three years since our initial encounter, and they certainly ask for a half decade or more of cellaring. It may be almost six years old, but it has not yet begun to emerge. No stars when first reviewed.