The “Farmer Nerd” Winemakers of Paso Robles
About three hours south of what most people consider America’s “wine country” of Napa and Sonoma, lies a much different experience. More than 200 wineries – many of them family owned and operated businesses – are located in Paso Robles. You’re more apt to find people wearing Levis and work boots than designer duds and the only traffic jams you’ll encounter are when you’re stuck behind a tractor. Growers and winemakers here come from all backgrounds and walks of life.
You’ll hear the Templeton Gap mentioned a lot in Paso Robles. Basically, it’s an area of California’s Central Wine Country that sits between passes of the Santa Lucia range. To the west, just beyond eyesight, lies the Pacific Ocean past the hilly peaks. The Gap allows breezes to blow into the area, elongating the ripening time on the vineyards.
Alta Colina
Before the talk gets too geeky, Maggie Tillman from Alta Colina Wines says everything a wine drinker really needs to know about the land. “It’s sort of a spiritual, beautiful place.” If you want to see what she means, go out to a vineyard, glass in hand, around 5 p.m. to feel the weather change. The temperature drops about 20 degrees as the wind screeches through the vines and hawks ride the thermals. The best part of Paso, as the locals call it, is being one with the land. Sure, there are a few millionaires who decide to open a state-of-the-art tasting room, but you’re more likely to experience wine tasting the Alta Colina way.
Jump into an ancient GMC pickup parked just outside the Alta Colina tasting room. The speedometer reads 345,000 miles and the once white truck is burnished red from the soil. As 72 year-old vineyard owner Bob Tillman coaxes the groaning vehicle to life, Honey the German Shepherd jumps in the back, settling alongside a cooler filled with wine. After about a ten minute drive up the hill of the 130-acre property, Bob stops the car by a small lake surrounded by vintage Airstream trailers festooned with fairy lights. It’s a sunny day and Honey splashes in the lake while the humans content themselves with a crisp grenache blanc. Although the tasting room is lovely, Maggie prefers that people drink outdoors. “That way you can experience where the wines are made. This is a farm with dirt. It dictates everything we do. It drives the wine to get that magic.” Maggie calls this wine tasting, “without the bullshit”.
Molly Lonborg, who was recently named winemaker at Alta Colina, would agree. “I think that a lot of people here in the region really shun the pretentious side of wine and embrace the approachability of it.” A graduate of Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo with a degree in Earth Sciences and a concentration in Wine and Viticulture, Lonborg says winemaking can be whittled down to a single question. “Do you like it? If you do, then it’s a good wine.”
Top Winery
In 2013, Elena Martinez and Stanley Barrios were denizens of Los Angeles when they decided to uproot their middle class lives and move to Paso Robles to make wine. Says Martinez, “The first time I heard a woodpecker I thought there was construction outside. My ears were city ears.” The former real estate agent and her husband have a much different life now. They own no land, so they source fruit from ten vineyards by the acre for their Top Winery. The wine is made in what Martinez calls a primitive way. “Some wineries need a consistent flavor, so they add acid or sugar. We want our grapes to express themselves”. To make a drinkable wine, Barrios carefully blends the grapes until both partners are happy with the results. “My husband and I only release wine we want to drink, and we are picky wine drinkers. Each bottle, she says, has a spinning top on it. “It reminds us to make a balanced wine.”
Martinez says their future goal is to buy land to grow their own grapes, but wine making is a risky business. Even without investing in land, it took about four years to start generating income from their wines. “We’re working with nature and it can always impact our bottom line. It’s super risky making wine in California. But that makes it so romantic.”
Harmony Cellars
Chuck Mullgan remembers back when he started making wine in Paso Robles. “When I first started back in 1985, it was the wild west. There were maybe a dozen wineries and we didn’t have a history to jam us into a category, so we were free spirits. We made the best wine we could from the grapes we were growing.” In 1989, he and his wife, Kim, started Harmony Cellars, making 2,000 cases of wine out of a rented space. Today, the boutique winery produces about 7,500 cases a year. Mulligan says the winery is small enough that he can make the wines he wants. “In a big winery, a winemaker will try to fill a request by the marketing department. They’ll say something like, ‘we want you to make a chardonnay that’s not oakey but a little sweet’. A winemaker probably hates that idea, but it’s your job. At Harmony, Chuck finds himself blending different varietals to make the most drinkable wines. “For me, I’m looking to plug holes. If I don’t have enough body in my cabernet, I’ll look for a petit syrah and see if it plugs a hole in that wine. It’s like Tetris, where you’re trying to fit a bunch of different pieces together.”
Back at Alta Colina, Honey’s covered in lake muck after an hour of duck chasing. The sun is just starting to set as Maggie explains Paso’s vibe. “It’s a self-selecting group of people who choose Paso Robles. We make real wine, but it isn’t about ego. It’s about keeping it simple. We’re not trying to emulate anywhere and we’re not trying to be anyone else. There’s a freedom in that. In the end, we’re just a bunch of farmer nerds who really like wine.”