Harrington Winery

The first time I did a story about Sonoma Coast, I interviewed Helen Turley. She immediately dismissed the idea that the appellation had any meaning. I thought I knew why already: Brice Jones at Sonoma Cutrer had invented the appellation not because of its coherence but so he could call his far-flung Sonoma vineyards an “estate” on wine labels (the rules required the vineyards to be in the same AVA). But Turley meant something different. She was talking about the handful of hill-top vine patches near her Marcassin Vineyard, way out west, high above the beach (what some people call “the true Sonoma Coast”). “I can see the other vineyards from mine,” she said, “and I can see that none of us flower, bud or harvest at the same time. Sometimes it’s weeks apart, for the same plant material.” Her conclusion about Sonoma Coast? “My vineyard is my appellation.”

It’s hard to argue with Turley in this case. When I tasted this wine, which comes from one of the oldest, original vineyards near Marcassin, I immediately noticed qualities I’ve tasted in other Hirsch wines. I don’t find them in Pinots from Marcassin, or Blue Slide Ranch, or other vineyards from that neighborhood. What is it? Wet slate and ripe dark cherries and foggy grass on an ocean bluff. (Trust me, it tastes better than it sounds.) Bryan Harrington not only managed to get some of this prized fruit, he has rung a beautiful chord from the available notes. It lingers with a quality that is hard to describe or resist. If you’re a fan of Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir, jump on this.

Reviewed February 1, 2007 by Thom Elkjer.