In 1996 I found a cool seam of the valley everyone had passed over, because the fog held till noon and shortened the season. I wanted a Chardonnay that tasted like restraint, and this ground was the only teacher patient enough for that lesson.
You'd step out of the car into fog so low the geese passed overhead close enough to duck for, whether you meant to or not. People came back in November just to stand in that seam of cold and watch the birds go over again.
Fog Line — estate chardonnay in neutral oak. Nothing loud, nothing borrowed; just the place, speaking slowly.
October 2018, harvest day, with the bank calling before we'd even started the crew meeting. We picked anyway, geese lifting off the block in one long ribbon as the first bin went into the press.
That restraint counts as a style, not a compromise. I hope whoever farms this seam next has the patience to let the fog do most of the work.
