Merlot or "We are in love with snails."

If there is something I hate more than being asked if I have seen Sideways it is being asked if I hate Merlot. I hate Corvina, and I chalk it up to an allergy. Every grape, besides that stupid variety that makes me gag, me granted, just me, can be beautiful. Still, without entering the debate on whether Merlot has any redeeming characteristics, I can assure you that it does not when a bird shits in your car. I know the birds, I get a lot of time to watch them fly around, and I observe their eating habits. This particular bird has some ankle bracelets that make me wonder where the local lock up is, and how far exactly he is supposed to be straying from home, an issue I was willing to ignore until a warm drizzle appeared on my arm after a long day at the winery, seconds before I began my favorite drive ever. This bird frequents the Merlot block. It's easy enough to spray off an arm. Fine Swedish leather? Not so easy.

Take note Cali wineries, this might be the best tasting merlot the state has produced, but I will not be the one to taste it. Email for an appointment. Very few bottles produced, let alone cases.