Apple Mountain Golf Resort – A classic mountain course, with death-defying drops and elevation changes coupled with stunningly distracting scenery. The greens are ever so slightly scraggly, yet overall this is a well-maintained public course that seems a bit underplayed. It’s certainly undervalued; greens fees are a steal. We’re joined by Bill Easton, who (as befits his stature) often hits it a very long way, and sometimes even hits it a very long way forward. He plays pretty well, but it’s clear that he’s most happy to just be away from the oncoming crush, if only for just a few hours.
Jack Russell Brewing Co. – After golf, Bill leads us to this shack-like establishment for a few brews. It’s a little like drinking beer in the shadow of a barn (something I might have done in high school were it not…cough…illegal), but the quality of the beer itself is unquestionable. I sample, though do not notate, a saison-style ale, followed by a Scottish-style ale, while Easton works his way through a pair of refreshingly crisp pilsners. And speaking of pairs…there’s a well-lubricated duo, each carrying more than his fair share of excess ballast, mumbling drunkenly on stools a few feet from where we’re ordering our beer. Eventually, they wander outside to enjoy some open-air belches, staring at our trio with wobbly interest. One squints.
“You guysh golfersh?” He can tell by the clothes, one would assume.
“Yep.” I’ve apparently volunteered to answer.
“Whaddyashhhoot t’day?”
“Oh, pretty well. Nice day.”
This seems to anger the other fellow. “Isaidwhaddyashhhoot?”
“Um, I’m not sure.” I am sure, but I make up a number quite a few strokes higher.
“[expletive]-in’a! Hey, theesh guysh are [expletive] proshhrs…omthin’”
His companion looks even angrier, for no reason that makes sense to us. He starts to approach us. Theresa tenses…but is saved by the emergence of the proprietor, who is carrying a few well-wrapped cases for our new friends. To go. As they zigzag their brewed booty back to the parking lot, the previously-silent one looks back at us in barely-restrained fury.
Bill’s ball
“Must be [expletive] wine drinkers.”
Susan’s Place Wine Bar & Eatery – Wine, golf…and now, tourism. Theresa and I wander the streets of charming yet vaguely artificial Sutter Creek, peering in windows and admiring the gentle warmth of the setting sun. Things are winding down for the day, and most businesses are closed, but we’re not really hungry yet, and so after a careful circuit of the town we wander into a wine bar of, from the exterior, dubious distinction.
We needn’t have worried. There’s simple, snacky food both inside and on the pretty outdoor terrace, but the focus is clearly wine. An entire wall devoted to stacked cases of local vinous produce, both famous and obscure, frames a welcoming bar…behind which sits a fairly slight yet forceful woman. This, we presume correctly, is Susan. She’s acerbic to a fault, but good-humored about it, and full of information and good advice; we wish we’d met her earlier in the trip. She steers me away from the mysterious zin I want to try to one that’s certainly familiar in name, but not in identity, and when I seem dubious she pours both for me – in full by-the-glass quantities – with her recommendation offered “on the house.” You can’t get better local promotion than that.
Theresa, on the other hand, follows a recommendation based on my most recent winery visit.
Gobbling up golf balls
Amador Foothill 2001 Fumé Blanc (Shenandoah Valley) – Grassy and fresh, showing grapefruit and other, vaguer, citrus notes. A little more fun than the winery’s 2002, or at least a little more open, but seemingly less structured.
Latcham 2001 Zinfandel (Fair Play) – Susan shakes her head when I order this, assuring me I won’t like it. She’s right: it’s rough, barky, and thoroughly difficult without redeeming qualities. I don’t even finish the glass.
Scott Harvey 1999 Zinfandel “Old Vine Selection” (Amador County) – This is Susan’s counter-recommendation. I certainly know who Scott Harvey is, but the fact that he’s making an eponymous wine is a complete surprise to me. What’s not much of a surprise is that the wine is just amazing: huge-bodied, showing both bright and deep red strawberry, graphite-like structure, and ultra-ripe but poised, elegant, and refined textural elements. Fantastic, balanced, world-class zinfandel from a master at the top of his game.
Hang on the bell, Nellie
Caffé Via d’Oro – A few glasses of wine and much chat later, we’re in the mood for dinner. We’ve been warned away from many of the better-known establishments by locals, but we admit to being more than a bit surprised that pretty much everyone has recommended this place: to all outward appearances a largish pizza-and-calzone joint, complete with a teetering pile of takeout boxes near the door. And in fact, most of the evening’s customers are after pizza à emporter, usually served with a side of animated chat from the flour-dusted owners that are manning both oven and register.
We slide into a booth, wondering what our correspondents were thinking, and take a look at the menus. While there are some tasty topping combinations, it’s still pretty much as expected: pizza, pasta, calzones, garlic bread, nachos, etc. The usual American family fare. But what’s not usual is the wine list, a lengthy and detailed showpiece for the region’s bounty (as much or more extensive than Susan’s Place), at eminently reasonable prices.
Well, how bad could it be?
The answer is: not bad at all. The pizza’s better than fine, the toppings are vivid, and the service is friendly (though there’s no reason it shouldn’t be, given the generally low ebb of business this evening). While I’d initially intended to go for something new from the wine list, I’m now in a Scott Harvey sort of mood, and the list provides more than a few options.
Folie à Deux 1998 Zinfandel Bowman (Amador County) – Medium-bodied, showing red and blue berries in a nice, light, drinkable package. There’s some structure, but the wine is so enticing that one hardly notices; this is the kind of zin that could disappear in multiple-bottle quantities with no palate fatigue (and, at 13.5%, only minimal liver damage). Refreshing, fun, and a perfect match with some rather fun…well, “cuisine” is the wrong word. Fun food.
I ask after a post-prandial glass of Sonora “Port,” but alas, it’s not to be. They, too, are sold out.
But what makes the evening is not the grub or the glug, but the conversation. When it becomes clear that the facilities aren’t going to be filled with a late rush of customers, the somewhat burly and grizzled chef/owner comes over to say hello. We get to chatting, and (inevitably) the subject turns to his wine list; a rather remarkable one for such a casual place, I openly muse. It turns out he’s a refugee from the local wine business, as is his wife, and while they’re not sure the list is economically sensible, they very much enjoy its existence, as do quite a few of their customers. As for our hosts, who pull up chairs next to our booth, we talk long, detailed, and awfully gossipy shop for the remainder of the evening. It’s tremendous fun, though we’re mostly sworn to secrecy on all the juicy stuff.
A rather plain and simple end to a vacation that’s hit some rather extravagant heights? Assuredly. And yet, it’s not only a pure distillation of the homespun yet dedicated ethos that pervades the collection of wine regions and old mining villages tucked up against this side of the Sierras, it’s a beautiful reminder of just how interesting it can be to just talk to good people over good food and good wine. Simple pleasures that are all too often forgotten in these ever-hastening days.
![[Bill Easton golfing]](http://www.myspeakerscorner.com/forum/user_images/tci_ca03_easton_golf.jpg)
![[wild turkeys]](http://www.myspeakerscorner.com/forum/user_images/tci_ca03_wild_turkeys.jpg)
![[tower in Sutter Creek]](http://www.myspeakerscorner.com/forum/user_images/tci_ca03_sc_tower.jpg)
![[Thor golfing]](http://www.myspeakerscorner.com/forum/user_images/tci_ca03_thor_am_golf.jpg)