“I hate all Santa Barbara pinot noir.” This is something I overheard recently at an industry tasting — by someone who supposedly knew better than to say something that dogmatic. Not only was that inflammatory declaration reductive, but it was also dangerous, coming from a person who is seen as an authority figure in their field.
In my experience, one of two things happen when you are viewed as an “expert” for an extended period. 1) Your ego is fed to the point where you no longer feel the need to learn anything new, or 2) you reinforce your efforts and expand your knowledge, thus furthering your love for the subject matter. It’s a beautiful cycle. The more people defer to me as an “expert,” the more I’m driven to earn that trust by doubling down on my commitment to my craft. After a while, something clicks. That moment I realized I’m never going to know it all, despite my best efforts, is the moment I gained the most confidence. The more I know, the more I realize how much I don’t know.
I wasn’t always this way. I was once mortified of the thought of someone, high off liquid courage, approaching me at a party and wine-sparring with me on a subject I was unfamiliar with. There was a time where I even devised a syllabus that prioritized the topics that I would be most embarrassed to not have any working knowledge of. I realize that’s insanely insecure. I am, at times, an irrationally insecure person. (Google “2018 Master Sommelier cheating scandal” and you’ll have some idea why).
“Wow, I didn’t know you’ve tasted every pinot noir from Santa Barbara,” I wanted to say. Instead, I bit my tongue so hard I could’ve sworn I drew blood.
With hindsight, I realize that (a very long time ago) I was that person that would (occasionally) say stupid things without knowing how damaging it was. You don’t know what you don’t know. Here are two wines from Santa Barbara that would challenge anyone’s narrowmindedness.
The Paring, Pinot Noir, Santa Barbara County, California
I am a huge fan of drinking vertically (not the opposite of drinking horizontally). When I fall in love with a particular bottle, I make sure to taste the more expensive and less expensive offerings from the same producer. Despite this being the least expensive offering from the wonderful people at The Hilt/Jonata, this is the bottle that initially captivated me. What doesn’t make it into the pricier “Jonata” and “The Hilt” wines finds a great landing spot in “The Paring” label. I highly urge you to try all styles under the moniker as each one represents some of the best values for the respective categories in the country. The pinot merges classic juicy red fruit with savory spice in a highly drinkable yet polished style.
Cost: Around $25/bottle. This is a steal, as there were only around 1,300 cases produced in 2019.
The Hilt, Estate Pinot Noir, Sta. Rita Hills, California
The fruit from this bottle comes from two vineyards (Radian, Bentrock) in a small corner of Sta. Rita Hills. What doesn’t make it into the specific vineyard designated bottlings are carefully blended into this, their estate pinot noir, which blends the darkness of Radian and the generosity of Bentrock.
This is a great reminder that sometimes, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.
Cost: Around $45/bottle.
Chris Ramelb is an award-winning master sommelier, and director of education and restaurant sales manager of Southern Glazer’s Wine & Spirits of Hawaii. Follow him on Instagram (@masterisksomm).
