The level of alcohol consumption chez scully rocketed over the past two weeks, when I received an unexpected house-guest/Best Man from London, and also unexpectedly turned thirty years old. Californian beers are pretty special, and one of my favourites is the Davis local brew, Sudwerk Märzen. Underneath the sink many empty bottles attest to our late-night hanging-out, which resulted in watching lots of films such as Rocky III or Revenge of the Sith and subsequently getting online, BUI (Blogging Under the Influence). Bacchus strikes again, or was it BA Baracas?

Last Friday, though, we took a far more civilized approach to the Bacchinalean tradition. My wife, my friend, my mother-in-law and myself deove up into the wine country of Sonoma County, in glorious sunshine through one of the most beautiful regions of America. A far cry from the flatlands of Yolo County, we were transported into an echo of Tuscany – but with SUVs instead of mopeds. I had been wine-tasting before, but I am hardly a connoisseur, and like most others who take the day-trip to the vines, I left telling myself that I would make an effort to develop my pallatte. But first I need to learn how to spell it.

We first visited Hop Kiln, a great little winery situated in an old converted hops barn. Having previously told me he didn’t like white wine, and loved a nice meaty red, R was so impressed he bought a bottle of the 2005 Thousand Flowers, a white blend that was, I think, pretty fruity (though my vinocabulary is limited to ‘it was nice’ and ‘mmm, fruity’). Hop Kiln, as do many wineries, also sold a range of seriously delicious flavoured mustards, such as Zinfandel and Garlic, or Tropical Mango. More wine-buying and tasting followed at the Mazzoco, Dry Creek and Quivira wineries, and though I took notes on each wine I sampled, I admit I was really just copying what I overheard. Was the Quivira 2002 Zin really ‘chocolatey’? I haven’t the foggiest idea.

Following a brief visit to the spectacularly Italianate Ferrari-Carrano winery, we ambled down to Healdsburg, and dined at the Bear Republic brewpub. Ah, much more common ground: micro-brewed local beers, cold and fresh, and even ‘mmm fruity’. I tried a 2006 Hefe Weizen, good nose, light on the tongue, great with chicken, while R tried the Racer 5, which I think he quite liked. He didn’t spit any out, at any rate. Oh yes, though in the vinyards we may be lost for original thoughts, but in some fields we are true connoisseurs.