There is nothing quite like having a mini-break on the horizon when it comes to changing up the quotidian doldrums of employment. In the past, I have had the opportunity to volunteer for a handful of my winemaker friends so the prospect of enjoying Woodinville as a relishing Bonne Vivante was exciting.
Woodinville, a small town located 30 miles to the Northeast of Seattle, is host to over 50 wineries and for laymen’s purpouses is kind of like WesternWashington’s Napa Valley. The drive from Ballard is easy enough to do as a day trip, but to properly enjoy everything the area has to offer, it’s nice to stroll over with the intention of spending the night. That way, one might indulge in wine until their heart’s content without having to worry about weaving back across the bridge.After ensuring our condo was spic and span, I hopped in the shower and began gussying up for our getaway. I packed my Orla Kiely wheeled carry-on with a change of clothing, a Vera Wang shift for dinner and practically my entire bathroom vanity. Ironically, I consider myself to be low maintenance but given the time and opportunity I love lavishing myself with powders, creams and other such fineries.
We topped off the girl’s dishes, left them plenty of fresh ice water (yes, our cats are terribly persnickety), gave them big kisses and we were off. The weather gave off an ominous portent: rough winds billowed and shrieked while angry clouds shuddered. The sun was nowhere to be seen and we wondered what type of precipitation would be over our shoulders for the duration of the weekend. While initially discouraged by the possibility of rain hampering our fun, Brett pointed out that we would be inside most of the time anyway. I also thought to myself that wine does have a way of casting an enchanting glow over what might otherwise be perceived as anything less than perfection.
It was shortly before 3pm when we rolled in to Woodinville. Considering most tasting rooms close right around 5, we made no haste and instead got right down to business. Our first stop was Mark Ryan’s Dead Horse Winery located a mere stone’s throw away from the widely known Chateau St. Michelle. Though his winery is still comparatively small, Mark Ryan is a force to be reckoned with among vintners worldwide. He began wine-making as a hobby ten years ago and has since godfathered a number of burgeoning wine makers in the area and increased his presence well beyond Washington’s borders. Mark Ryan’s popularity has generated an almost cult-like following and you can guarantee that on any given weekend his tasting room will be filled to the brim with wine loving folk—which is exactly what we encountered upon our arrival there. Previously located in an industrial park in Woodinville’s North end (more on that later), Mark’s tasting room now occupies a pleasant and brightly lit space right in the thick of the action. Upon entering, we were greeted by Joan, a lovely and enchanting pixie-like woman. I’ve had the honor of volunteering with her before so we began chatting as she poured us the Viognier. Historically, I have never been a proponent of white wines but that philosophy was turned on its ear the moment I was introduced to some of the whites of Woodinville. Mark Ryan’s Viognier is delicious: smooth, crisp and fragrant with a clean finish. I’m hesitant to bloviate too much on the descriptions of any given wine simply because I find that everyone’s palate is so different. Wine tasting, to me, is a very personal experience but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terribly amused by the pomposity with which many people speak about a wine’s character.
The atmosphere at Mark Ryan’s was laid back and groovy: framed Ween and Pearl Jam posters adorn the walls, a picture of John Waters’ mustachioed mouth hangs behind the cash register, antique cupboards house some of the wines, a Hillman long board leans against the wall and a vintage bike rests in front of an expansive floor length mirror.
Mark Ryan, despite his intimidating stature is extremely warm, friendly and down to earth. We chatted briefly with another reveler about Converse sneakers before he let Brett snap a photo of the two of us.
After lingering by a barrel and tasting the six different wines being offered, Brett and I procured a bottle of the aforementioned Viognier and a bottle of the Dissident (Mark’s predominantly Merlot red table wine.) I declined a bag and instead boasted “Your wines are like a Gucci label- they should be worn with pride and for the world to see!” Even though this was only our first stop, I could still feel the warmth of wine beginning to swill around my mind and thus spoke with little reservation and a dash of the nonsensical.
Our next visit was the aforementioned industrial park which is host to a slew of “Garagiste” winemakers amidst dance studios and auto body shops. The “Garagiste” movement in winemaking includes procuring grapes predominantly from Eastern Washington AVAs, the Red Mountain AVA being a particularly favorite appellation amongst the winemakers because it yields high quality, robust grapes. Once the grapes are harvested and trucked back across the state, they are crushed and aged in the wineries which are akin to large, spartan concrete cubicles. Each winery features a barrel room in the back, and a tasting room in the front. Darby Winery was our first stop in the complex.
Darby’s space is very rustic and offers a completely different vibe from the crisp and clean environs of Mark Ryan’s. I can only describe the place as being pastoral and folksy. A large chandelier hangs in the center of the ceiling and is surrounded by antique-y glass fixtures that have succumbed to the wrath of Darby’s wine-making tools which only adds character to the place, in my opinion.
My friend Renee was volunteering alongside Darby English (owner and winemaker) with whom I have been loosely acquainted before. Since I was on the inside, Brett and I were able to dash the five dollar tasting fee to enjoy Mr. English’s four wines. I have a few of his wines cellared (read: nestled among 50 or so other wines in our storage unit) so I decided to get a bottle of his ’07 Purple Haze for immediate consumption. Purple Haze is a predominantly Cabernet Sauvignon blend with Cab Franc and Malbec to round it out. Since I drank this wine the day after we returned from our trip, I actually did take notes for recounting purpouses. Yes, I know it would have behooved me to whip out a pen and pad whilst wine tasting, but that would have felt far too pretentious. Instead, I just tossed back each wine, enjoying the bouquets and flavors as I went. Purple Haze had a sharp, acidic and floral nose and a silky full-fruit mouth with a clean alkaline finish. It was definitely easy to drink, considering I consumed nearly the whole bottle myself.
The day was late and we made haste to stop at a few more wineries before heading into the lodge. Adjacent to Darby is Guardian Cellars, Jerry Riener and Jennifer Sullivan’s winery. Jerry is an officer of the law, hence the name of his winery, and got his start helping Mark Ryan. In 2003, Jerry introduced two barrels of Cabernet Sauvignon with Mark Ryan and in 2004 broke out on his own. The names of each wine are cleverly associated with his day job: Angel (Guardian Angel…get it? It took me about a month of having a bottle of this wine in my fridge before I finally connected the dots with an “ahah!” moment), Gun Metal and Chalk Line.
Guardian’s spot is barren chic: featuring clean lines, a long stainless table and eggplant coloured fleur de lis wallpaper. The crowd was dwindling as 5pm approached so I chatted up Jennifer and reminisced about the folks I had seen tasting around the area thus far. Woodinville wine tasters include all walks of life ranging from the tacky hoi polloi (a dowdy woman wearing a ribbon made out of fake pearls in her hair) to the faux Aristocrat (a snooty looking gal donning a terribly haute Burberry Porsum coat.) Jennifer nodded and sagely quipped that there is a lot of variety (so to speak) in the area.
Neither Brett nor I wanted to be those annoying people that linger obliviously after a place of business is hoping to close, so we requested a photo with the couple, bought a bottle each of the ’06 Gun Metal (flagship blend of Cabernet, Merlot, Cab Franc and Malbec with a full plummy body and savory bouquet) and ’07 Chalk Line (a kitchen sink blend of grapes from all over the state considered to be Guardian's declassified table wine), and went on about our merry way.
Since it was still open, we popped into Sparkman Cellars right down the way. They seemed to be welcoming onlookers as today was the release of their latest Syrah, Merlot and Chardonnay. Sparkman is a family winery through and through (husband, wife, their two little girls and both sets of grandparents), and also one that got its start with help from the gracious Mark Ryan back in 2004. By this point in the evening, having predominantly consumed fermented grapes throughout the course of the day, I was thrilled to spot crostini with a shrimp ceviche on display. I swiftly grabbed a few and munched on them whilst trying the various wines. I felt like I was in a Fitzgeraldian vignette such was the dark, moody and swank ambience. Bistro tables lined the walls, and the lights were off in the back—a great Speakeasy-esque barrel room.
After fumbling around and chatting with the employees for a bit, it was time to set off for Willows Lodge and commence our night of indulgence... 
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