Have you ever been itching to carry a bottle of Petrus and a can of Red Bull on a plane? Thanks to researchers at UC Davis, that might be possible. (However, as we discussed previously, don’t think you’ll be allowed to openly serve yourself the Petrus on board.)

The researchers may be able to take scanners they developed to study spoilage in unopened bottles of wine and use that technology to differentiate between explosives and toothpaste and bottles of water in travelers carry-ons. In the above video, found via the good folks at Upgrade: Travel Better, they demonstrate their scanning device with a bottle of ’79 Petrus and a can of Red Bull (hopefully not mixed together afterward!).

In its wine application, the device was originally built to test for oxidation through the presence of acetic acid and acetaldehyde, according to Augustine’s page. There’s certainly a market for that, but it has to be small compared to the market for testing an unopened bottle for TCA (often referred to as cork taint). After Augustine is done counting his millions from solving the security problems of the TSA, maybe he could turn his research to detecting TCA, which would be a boon for wineries and wine enthusiasts alike.

If there’s one thing that frustrates wine enthusiasts when traveling by air–and, no, we’re not including pat-downs–it’s the liquids ban. Take wine enthusiasts, put them in a giant metal tube for hours on end, thrust their knees into the seat back in front of them and then attempt to ply them with tiny bottles of undifferentiated, $8 wine (credit cards only, please!).

A possible end to the liquids ban was floated a few weeks ago and with it the prospect of salvation for wine enthusiasts on planes. But Janet Napolitano, Homeland Security chief, threw her own Ziploc of cold water on the idea.

Odd as it may seem, there are some options to BYOW on board. Domestically, there are a few wine shops beyond security, such as the chain of Vino Volo locations or the Yadkin Valley wine shop in Charlotte, that sell wine to go. Pick up a bottle at one of these and it will be more fun than a grande latte–as long as you just like looking at the latte, that is. According to Mark Ashley, editor of Upgrade: Travel Better and our Senior Wine and Planes Correspondent, FAA regulations require flight attendants to pour all alcohol onboard planes. He says that back in a bygone era of travel, the flight attendants might have cooperated with a wink and a nod if asked to pour a passenger’s wine for them. But today, he says that is unlikely given the rise in unruly passengers and the general peevishness of the in-flight crew.

The ideal for flying with wine would be to bring a bottle from home. No airport markups. Better selection. But the only place that is going to happen is a foreign country. Japan has allowed liquids on planes (for domestic flights only) since introducing liquid bomb detectors in 2006 (!). Mark Ashley says that another country that allows liquids on board domestic flights is New Zealand, though he is unsure of whether the alcohol consumption policies in these two countries are set nationally or are airline policy.

One indication came on Twitter last year when Hristo Zisovski, a New York-based sommelier, tweeted, “Just got onto the plane carrying a open, half full bottle of Pinot Noir. Gotta love NZ airlines!”

What are your experiences, tips or thoughts about upgrading wine in flight? And please, belts off, shoes off, jackets off as you approach the comments section.

Related: “HOW TO: successfully check wine on a plane“

The assembled crew thought it was a terrific wine, despite the lack of stemware, with good acidity, white flowers and a dry honeycomb note. I guess sometimes the glassware can’t hold a good wine back. Did you have any wine in extreme circumstances over the Fourth?

Unfortunately, even with stemware, it would be hard to replicate the tasting since Domaine Jo Pithon no longer exists. The man, Jo Pithon, however does still exist and is now making wine under the label Pithon-Paillé with his step-son Joseph.

By Evan Dawson

Whither Napa Cabernet? The economy dealt a blow to the iconic American wine as consumers started reaching for less expensive bottles. Now, a growing number of critics and consumers, including those in California, are openly wondering if the Napa Cabernet train has come off the rails: commentator Dan Berger, for one, last week dismissed California Cabernet as “little more than a parody of itself.”

High up the side of Mount Veeder one sunny but cool, midwinter morning a couple of weeks ago, I couldn’t help wondering if the way back might offer ideas for Napa’s way forward. After all, the Cabernets of the 1970s helped put Napa on the world wine map, so it seemed reasonable to wonder if in wine, as in fashion, the past could provide inspiration.

To find one answer to this question, I had ventured to the Maycamas Vineyards. Celebrated in the 1970s as a leading producer of Cabernet, I was curious if the once-hot style would seem as out of place as bell bottoms or as appealing as Mad Men. After all, not much had changed there.

Unlike most of their competitors, Mayacamas doesn’t go out of their way to attract visitors. There is no tasting room on one of Napa’s two main thoroughfares. My appointment confirmation included instructions to drive to the top of Mount Veeder, find the cluster of 13 mailboxes, and turn up the dirt road. That’s it. While Rubicon Estate rolls out a literal red carpet for visitors, Mayacamas makes it a scavenger hunt.

But Bob Travers, the 70-year old owner and winemaker, is not there simply to tell stories of Napa’s halcyon days, nor has he sought to create a numinous landmark to excite traditionalists. In fact, it appears that Travers hasn’t altered a thing since taking over the property in 1968.

“This is the most enjoyable thing I can think of doing,” he told us with a smile as he joined us in the small visitor’s building.. “Maybe Napa has changed over the years. But we have not.”

It’s an admirable sentiment in a region that has seen a flood of high-wattage consultants and high-alcohol wines. “I enjoy those big Cabernets,” Travers said, and then with a wink he added, “for a sip or two. They make me tired. I don’t find myself wanting to drink another glass. I don’t think they go well with food. And I don’t think they age very well, either.”

The Mayacamas barrel room is designed for utility, not photo shoots. While many Napa barrel rooms are temples of modern cooperage, the storage at Mayacamas seems complacently disheveled. No two barrels look alike; even the barriques are different colors. Travers proudly announced that he “uses two percent new oak each year.” An employee urged us to touch the walls, which were covered in black mold. “They’re like velvet!” she said. “Isn’t that cool?”

Given the state of the barrel room and the approach of the winemaker, some cynics might assume they’d find Brett in the wines – or, at least, those nefarious and nebulous “green flavors.” This is, after all, a mountain winery using mountain fruit. The valley floor sees hotter mesoclimates and more concentrated grapes but the mountains provide cooler weather and, if harvest dates are the same, lower sugars in the grapes. Hell, Travers even owns a snow shovel.

But the assumptions of flawed wines are wrong. Back in the tasting room, we tasted the current release (2004) and a library release (1996). The 2004 was introverted but elegant. The ’96 was gorgeous, showing a loamy black cherry that evoked a Brunello from Biondi-Santi, as well as menthol and grilled herbs. It checked in with an anachronistic 12.5% alcohol by volume, and its lithe profile hints at a wine that might evolve impressively for years to come.

Travers always offers a library wine for visitors to taste. “We can’t just pour the current wine because no one would know what they’re getting,” he explained. Unlike other Napa producers who have had to slash prices (some from triple to double digits), Mayacamas Cabernet has seen a very gradual price increase over the years. The current release sells for $65, right in the middle of the Napa Cabernet pack but miles below the lofty prices staked on bigger, brawnier wines. On average the price for Mayacamas Cabernet rises about $1 per year, which the staff calls “comfortable.” The library release sells for about twice that price, but visitors can buy half-bottles, which have the dual benefit of keeping the cost down while providing the wine in a vessel that promotes slightly faster aging. Travers has never found an occasion to crank up the price and he clearly doubts the business practice of charging triple-digits for wines that might fall apart after only a few years. “We’ve never made wines to drink young. It’s not always the best business plan, but we make wine to reward patience. This is how it was in 1968, and this is how it ought to be today.” He heavily disputes the notion that in Napa, Cabernet can’t ripen physiologically unless it essentially withers into a raisin on the vine, one grape-growing technique that can lead to the higher-alcohol style prevalent today.

Eventually someone else will take over the winemaking at Mayacamas, and they’ll have to decide whether to increase the 4,000-case production. The staff at Mayacamas admits that during an economic downturn, smaller producers might have an edge. Mayacamas enjoys a small but devoted following, and as the trend has begun to turn away from monstrously large wines, more tourists have been seeking appointments and tours on top of Mount Veeder. (The tour and tasting are free – another throwback practice in the valley. “If you can make it up the mountain, you shouldn’t have to pay extra to walk around,” an employee explained.)

Travers only plans to keep making elegant Cabernet for the foreseeable future, but a succession plan might already be in place. Two of Travers’ sons are “highly involved” in the business, and a relative is his assistant winemaker. It’s an indication to customers that whether Travers works for another three or thirty years, the style is unlikely to change.

The critics, perhaps seduced by high-alcohol, high-octane Cabernets, don’t seem to understand Travers’ stubborn adherence to tradition. Last summer, Wine Spectator’s Jim Laube tasted a 1974 Mayacamas Cabernet and raved about its depth and balance. He awarded the wine 95 points, then wrote, “I’m not sure why Mayacamas Cabernets after 1978 never achieved the same level of quality, since they come from the same vineyard and most of the same winemaking techniques are still employed.” But since Travers says the winemaking didn’t change, then perhaps Laube’s preferences have.

That’s okay with Bob Travers, who no longer submits wines for review. The community of reviewers on CellarTracker seem to appreciate Mayacamas wines more than professionals; Mayacamas Cabernets routinely average higher than 90 points on the site.

So perhaps wines like Mayacamas Cabernet are indeed the bell bottoms of the wine world: out of style with most, longing to make a comeback. But Bob Travers would prefer to think of his wines less like the faddish bell bottoms and more like blue jeans: Consistent, not flashy, built to last. It’s the style that never fell out of fashion on top of Mount Veeder, and it might be the style that will allow more producers to bring stability back to the valley.

Photos by Evan Dawson

Dr. Vino,

Greetings from Basrah, Iraq!

I’ve started your newest book “A Year of Wine” and instantly took a liking to what you wrote in the introduction about how enjoying wine is as much about the context as it is about the wine itself. One of my pet peeves is the waiter rushing me for a wine selection before I’ve decided what I’d like to eat. The meal, the occasion, the company, they are all part of selecting the proper wine.

I’m here with the Minnesota National Guard, although I’m not from Minnesota myself. They have a great group of supporters back home. One local organization, Serving Our Troops, flew over here last weekend with 7,000 steaks and a dozen chefs from several great restaurants in the Twin Cities. Needless to say, the meal was the best I’ve had in six months. And while I certainly would have enjoyed a zesty zinfandel with my steak, I didn’t really miss it. Again, it’s about context. I’m not sure that there is a perfect wine that goes well with Iraq. (Although in the dead of summer, a cold Mosel or Bandol might do the trick.)

I’m here on my second tour as an analyst for the Army. The progress has been remarkable since I first arrived, and it looks like most US forces will soon be gone and will have left behind a relatively stable country. The rest is up to the Iraqis themselves.

I first became aware of you through your earlier work, “Wine Politics.” When I returned from Iraq the first time I decided it was time to do something on my bucket list: write a novel. It’s the story of a young man who discovers a love of wine during a trip to Germany in the late sixties and who subsequently moves to a fictional California town to make great wines. While the book’s not finished, the story combines several loves of mine: wine, food, travel, and politics. It was the politics angle through which I found your earlier work. My story’s protagonist finds that making great wine is far easier than navigating the legal and institutional hurdles arrayed against him. “Wine Politics” has been a great resource.

My own love for wine came about partly through being stationed in Germany. More known for its beer, Germany makes some great wine too. I lived a couple years in Franconia, which produces wines that are drier than what most people think of when they think of German wine. Any time I see a bocksbeutel (not to be mistaken for similarly shaped bottles of Mateus [ironically, Saddam's favorite wine--ed.]), I automatically buy it. Unfortunately, they’re so popular in Franconia, that Franken wines are hard to find even in other parts of Germany.

One final wine-related note to show that people all around the world aren’t all that different: Basrah is the largest city in the Shia part of Iraq; hence it’s a very religious town. A few months ago the city council banned alcohol. But since this is also a port city, that hasn’t stopped the drinking. Prohibition has brought bootleggers, and that of course, has brought a bit of violence. Over time, Basrawis will figure out whether or not prohibition works for them. But unlike our own (ig)noble experiment, at least they haven’t crippled a burgeoning wine industry, the effects of which took generations to repair.

Merry Christmas and Best Wishes for an enjoyable New Year of Wine,

Bob Krumm

We have the good fortune of being on a family vacation in the tropics. But what’s a wine lover to drink?

If you’ve read my book, A Year of Wine, you’ll know that I’m a fan of pairing wine with context, which includes the food, the mood, and the people. So if you’re on sun-drenched vacation, it’s easy to insert any wine, be it fetid or feted, and you’re bound for a great time since the setting is ideal, right? Perhaps. But this trip, I brought my own to make sure we had a good pairing.

Seeing some space in one of our bags, I threw in three wines from the Loire: two bottles of Muscadet and a bottle of Gamay. Low in alcohol, with refreshing acidity, and all under $15, I thought they would do the trick nicely when we grew tired of umbrella drinks and beer. (You can tell I am a wine geek since I was probably the only one bringing alcohol to the islands as opposed to returning with bottles–although I don’t rule that out.) I put them in a three-bottle wine shipper and they were still refreshingly cool to the touch when I unpacked. So I kept them that way by putting them all in the fridge on arrival.

The real stand out was the Domaine de la Pepiere, Clos des Briords, 2007 (about $15; find this wine), a superb wine in its own right that I’ve mentioned before. Throw in a sunset, 80 degrees, grilled fish, family and you really have a perfect wine moment. I rate it 100 points.

What’s one of your 100 point wine moments?

Friend of the blog and über travel blogger Mark Ashley sent in this photo from his flight from Munich last week: yes, he ordered the infamous Rich prosecco in a can! (We captioned their poster girl Paris Hilton last year.) Oddly enough, I’d just been noticing an increase in wine appearing in airline ads from Qantas to Air France to Lufthansa. Your theories as to why are welcome in the comments; perhaps it is because wine is a relatively cheap feelgood for marketing, certainly cheaper than giving you a seat that could, say, comfortably fit a human being.

In a jab at other airlines, Mark writes, “In Lufthansa’s defense, despite the wine being… middling… at least the wine is free.”

I bought two Styrofoam shipping containers at a wine store and filled them with 24 bottles, some collectible, others I could ditch if necessary. Since I was flying United, I was worried; readers have posted comments on this blog about rogue United agents refusing to check passengers with wine. And Paul Gregutt recently wrote about the experiences of some Washington wine country travelers who were only allowed five liters of wine (less than seven bottles) because the airline agent thought the TSA limit on spirits also applied to wine.

Before I hopped in a taxi, I asked the friend I was staying with to print two web pages. First, the United policy on wine in checked baggage, which has no limit, though it does state that wine must be in a “Styrofoam-type” insert. Second, the TSA rules on traveling with alcohol, which state that there is no limit on the amount of wine you can check. I wanted to have these printouts handy in case I got a rogue agent. I also wrote my name, address and flight number on a paper that I put inside the box before I sealed it with packing tape.

At O’Hare, I went straight to curbside to avoid a repeat experience of schlepping a bulky, handleless box any distance, as I have in rental car return lots on previous trips. Fortunately, the skycap was very polite and didn’t even flinch when I replied to his question that it was wine in the boxes. He just charged me $40, the current fee for two bags (the fee will be rising to $65 for two bags after November 10). In my euphoria of not having a problem, I gave him a nice tip.

When I collected my boxes from the belt on the other end, there were no wine stains that I had seen on my luggage the last time, without proper packaging. But there was “TSA INSPECTED” tape on the boxes. I just hope Hardy Rodenstock wasn’t on TSA duty that day.

Funny, but only after I made it home safely did it occur to me about insurance. I usually rely on my credit card to automatically provide me insurance. But because I had cashed in that increasingly useless currency known as air miles for the flight, I paid only $5, the security fee, for my flight. Had the bags been lost, would I have been covered? I asked Mark Ashley, travel guru at Upgrade: Travel Better, and he told me that I would, in fact, be covered because I paid the entire cost of the ticket ($5) with my credit card (but this varies by card, so read the fine print or call for a “legal opinion”). Cheap tix, free insurance, unbroken bottles–I’ll drink to that!

UPDATE: if you’re traveling with just a few bottles, several commenters on the previous post recommended a product called the Wine Skin, which looks very good.

Related: “Puzzle of the day: where can you fly with wine in the USA?”
“Poll: bringing wine home in an age of baggage charges“

The 28 wineries in Ulster, Dutchess, and Orange counties have launched a new web site to boost awareness of their new but old region. They claim “the country’s oldest vineyard can be found in the Hudson Valley,” dating back to 1677. Whoa! Them’s fightin’ words!

While the site offers itineraries, history and links to wineries, I have to wonder about the authenticity of one of the pictures. Consider this picture on the left, from their site. Compare to the photo that we pondered earlier on the right, which is a cellar in Hungary with the distinctive red banding on the barrels and the bare bulb illumination.

If the cellar depicted on their site is REALLY in the new/old Hudson Valley, then I will go to that winery and visit!

Because I was flying on United, I was a little wary. A previous commenter on this site had noted that the airline had confiscated his wine even though it was in his checked luggage. (Their policy now states that all wine in the hold must be in a Styrofoam shipping container even if it is in luggage.) So I didn’t want to splurge on too many bottles or any at too high a price in case they were taken away.

I put six bottles in a cardboard carrier and put it in my wheelie duffel. When I arrived back at Laguardia, my six pack had turned into a a five pack and my bag smelled like a winery. Fortunately, the pinot washed out without a problem.

I’ve put a lot of wine in my luggage over the years and thus far escaped unscathed. But it can’t hurt to use a little extra padding–or even use that Styrofoam shipper! Click through for a gory picture of my broken bottle–and of a funny celeb I saw making a spontaneous gate announcement in the terminal.

Related:
Bringing wine home from your travels
“Puzzle of the day: where can you fly with wine in the USA?”
“Have wine, can travel”

As wine geeks are wont to do, we brought a case plus a few bottles on our Adirondack adventure. The wines were from different producers and I bought them from different retailers. We had enjoyed several of the wines in the preceding two weeks and decided to share them with our relatives.

Yet several of the wines tasted too advanced. And we’re talking some 06s and 07s, which shouldn’t be advanced at all.

So what happened? I’m not sure. We did stop for a three-hour lunch with some friends on the way. I parked the car in the shade but when we returned, it was in the summer sun. I’m tempted to say this stint was the cause of our wine woes. But I’ve received so many wines via UPS that must have had even more exposure to the heat of summer than that. Do you have a theory?

Fortunately, the wines were diminished but not destroyed and some seemed unaffected. But as a precaution, I might bring a cooler next time we are going to make a stop on a trip like that. Assuming I can fit it in the car with all the kids’ gear etc!

Dear Dr. Vino,

If you had to take a bottle of American wine to Bulgaria that reflects the most recent trend in American winemaking, what would that bottle be? I want to take a bottle to my key participant in my academic study (who is one of the best winemakers in Bulgaria) when I head out next month to the wild Balkans. If this is an impossible question to answer, forgive my boldness (& ignorance) and please ignore it!

Impossible–never! It’s a great question, actually. I thought about American wines recently for a piece that I contributed to on Forbes.com about ten independent wines from the good ole US of A. I’d probably take one of those. Many of them actually run counter to the trend in higher alcohol levels so I’d point out that they are, in fact, anti-trendy, or the beginning of a new trend, perhaps. And then maybe bring a Turley that I’m trying to get rid of just for laffs.

What about you? Which wine would you bring if you were in this reader’s shoes?

“Nah,” he replied. I appreciated the honesty!

It turns out that trip was the last of a golden era, the era of “free” checked luggage. Now almost all airlines charge $25 for a second bag and American Airlines continues the Ryanairification of American air travel by imposing a $15 fee on the first bag. (Southwest, of all airlines, still allows two checked bags at no additional charge!)

As travel season kicks off with $4-a-gallon gas this Memorial Day, many wine enthusiasts might be giving thought to how we’ll bring wine home from our travels. UPS certainly looks better with these new airline surcharges (no schlepping!). But then there’s the heat of summer to contend with and it’s withering effect on wine–at least the short airline trip would minimize that.

If your travel takes you to a domestic winery this summer, how will you bring the loot home?

Poll now closed

Related: Bringing wine home from overseas

“We make a red wine.”

Normally that’s not the sort of statement that raises an eyebrow in Napa Valley. But when one vintner told me that at dinner one night last week, I had to taste it for myself.

The vintner in question was Peter McCrea who owns Stony Hill. While most Chardonnay in the region receives lavish oak treatments and has high alcohol levels, Stony Hill Chardonnay is aged in 40-year-old (and therefore neutral) barrels and has 13 percent alcohol. His other two wines, a Gewurztraminer and a Riesling, roll in at 11.24 and 11.65 percent alcohol respectively. And at $21 a bottle, the wines stood out for another reason from the Napa wines.

Not your average California whites. Which is why I jumped in a car with another wine writer and drove up to the winery the next day in pursuit of the red nobody has ever tasted outside of the winery: Stony Hill Syrah.

The clouds hung low across the valley as we approached the driveway. It was drizzling on the leafless manzanilla trees, covered in green lichen. The driveway twisted and turned for two miles, first through the woods but as we climbed, rows of vines punctuated the forest, which had become dominated by evergreens.

The small winery lies 600 feet above the valley tucked into the forest. In the 1950s, the McCreas cleared an area to build a swimming pool and used some of that wood to build the winery. Many barrel rooms today are built for show as well as function but this rustic room housed only a few dozen barrels in a decidedly un-showy manner. Honestly, one of the barrels stamped “Diener & Roth, Stuttgart” looked as if it had traversed the seven seas and barely lived to tell the tale.

“So do you ever get new barrels?” I asked Peter.

“Yeah, when one gets a hole in it,” he deadpanned. Or perhaps he was being serious as some of the barrels are over 40 years old.

We wandered back to the house where his parents had lived. Apparently there’s a commanding view of the valley from the deck but we weren’t able to see it with the drizzle. Peter and his wife, Willinda, had decamped for the town of St. Helena some years ago and the house on the hillside was mainly for receiving visitors. It was very neat and clean yet not updated, kind of like my grandmother’s lake house before she died and the house was sold and torn down with a mega-mansion put up in its place. I had the feeling the same thing could easily befall this place someday.

Some other wine writers form the conference joined up with us as we started the tasting. First was the Gewurztraminer 2006, which has only a whiff of the grape’s characteristic spice and is a lean, non-Alsatian rendering with notes of lychee and pear. (By the way, I later saw this wine available at Taylor’s Refresher—yes, I went to the location in the Ferry Building—and thought how I’d like to try it with the fish tacos.) The 2006 White Riesling was up next and is, according to Peter, “bone-dry.” It has a big attack with good minerality and a pleasant finish.

The Chardonnay is the most planted grape in the vineyards. And the resulting wine, vintage 2005, was most un-Californian, with no malolactic fermentation to make it creamy and no new oak barrels to make it butterscotchy. It was straight up Chardonnay, unadorned, expressive of the grape and the place with the sprightly acidity of green apple and quite a persistent finish. At the dinner the previous evening I had picked the wine out of a lineup of three Napa chardonnays simply by the aroma because it is so distinctive. I’d like to try it in a lineup of Chablis. I’d also love to see how the wines age but unfortunately the winery has no more library wines so post a comment with your experience if you’ve tried a Stony Hill with some age on it.

Just for laffs, I asked Peter if he ever thought about converting to the creamy, coconutty style of chardonnay. He said “our 2,500 mailing list members would go batshit if we did!” Indeed. Consistency is assured thanks to the old vines and the fact that Mike Chelini has been making the wines since 1971.

So what about the elusive Stony Hill Syrah? We had to jog Peter’s memory about his pledge from the previous evening but Mary, who runs the office, ducked out and returned with the fabled bottle. There’s a small vineyard by the garden that was once planted with Zinfandel and about five years ago was replanted to Syrah. The wine is just for consumption at the winery and at the McCrea home. It’s only 13 percent alcohol, light in color and an attractive wine, highly gulpable. It lacked the depth of, say, a good St. Joseph. But if you were to expect a red wine from Stony Hill, this is what it would be.

Peter let slip that they actually have a five-acre bloc of Cabernet Sauvignon in their highest vineyard. They sell those grapes today but maybe one day we could try a Stony Hill Cab—even more elusive than the Syrah.

If you want to visit Stony Hill, make an appointment for M – F 9 – 5 at 707.963.2636.
Skinflints unite: not only are the wines affordable but the web site says the tastings and visits will always be free! StonyHillVineyard.com

The whites are available at retail as well as the winery.
Search for the Stony Hill Chardonnay, Stony Hill Riesling, or Stony Hill Gewurztraminer

Some more shots:

Jordan Mackay taught me how to do sepia tone on my Canon Elph SD800 IS — thanks, Jordan!

While you may not be able to touch Wynn’s nuts in Las Vegas, the Meadowood resort in Napa encourages you to pull the corks on the wine in the room.

Even though I wondered briefly which wine goes with Kettle chips, I managed to make it through my stay for a wine writers’ conference last week without opening a bottle in my room. But I was tempted since the wines were some top examples of local offerings at incredible prices. Consider the Joseph Phelps Insignia 2001 for $145 in the room when it can’t be found for less than $130 in a store (find this wine), if at all! While they are not all steals (the Sinskey Carneros Pinot Noir was $55 in room compared to $25 in a store) there were other, lower priced wines too: Plumpjack Chardonnay for $65 in room and about $50 in a store (find this wine) and the sparkling Schramsberg blanc de blanc is $35 in the room and about $25 in a store (find this wine). And free in-room wi-fi to run your own price check!

I asked the affable Gilles de Chambure, Master Sommelier and Director of Wine Education at Meadowood about the pricing and quality of the wine in the rooms, he said “we want people to pull the corks.” Indeed!

One negative about the beverages at Meadowood, however, was the abundant pouring in the dining room of one-liter glass bottles of Acqua Panna, a water imported from Tuscany. With bottled water available from five miles away in Calistoga I was tempted to break out my carbon calculator…