Maybe it was because the wine-tasting took place partially by candlelight. Maybe it was the intimate yet practical feel of the semi-underground, stonewalled tasting room. Maybe it was the tasting room dog who attentively scanned incoming guests for their petting potential. Or maybe it was the legend circulating about the gruff but gold-hearted wine-maker's brother, who might charm you one minute and cut off your head the next.
Quite possibly it was because the whole thing was taking place in beautiful but headstrong Murphys, at the southern end of California's immensely intriguing Sierra Foothills AVA, where chic tasting rooms rub shoulders with brew pubs and candy stores and Gold Country saloons. On a Tuesday before Christmas, in the midst of an epic winter rain and snowstorm that saw three feet of snow dumped on the mountain peaks high above town and that made breaking trail on skis to Lake Alpine slightly more difficult.
Whatever it was, the wines at Hatcher were eye-openingly great. All 9 of them - 8 delicious whites and reds and one ethereal late harvest Viognier ice wine - named Quinn the Eskimo. Naturally.
The Hatchers make 20 or more individual varieties, sourced from across the Sierra foothills (El Dorado, Amador, Calaveras), including many from either their own estates or from local vineyards they manage. These guys know wine - from the roots to the barrel and all the way to the Riedel stemless glasses in which pourers dish out precious allotments of their carefully aged, judiciously oaked (French, American, Hungarian, new and neutral), award-winning wines. Estate and vineyard-designate Zins. Subtle and serious food-friendly Barbera, reserve Barbera, and Dolcetto. Tight and muscular reds using Bordeaux and Rhone blends. A hard-charging Spanish red trio of Monastrell, Graciano, and Manzuela. A superbly dark and earthy Petite Sirah. A crisp and clean Pinot Grigio. A deep and brooding port using classic Portuguese grapes.
It's like 3 or 4 wineries in one. Locals and wine club members are fiercely loyal to the Hatcher credo: make great wines, don't compromise on your principles, and if they fail to fall in love with them, then let the critics and wine tasting masses go to hell. Or LA. Which is basically the same thing. There are always above-ground, LED-lit tasting rooms in Napa that will happily take your money and charge you double or triple what these guys are asking for wines that have sometimes been cellared for several years while still costing in the mid-20s and low 30s. If you haven't tasted before what 5 years of aging can do to a reserve ZIn or Syrah or Tempranillo or Cabernet, you really should come here to get an education.
Maybe you don't think you would like these wines. Maybe you are enthralled at the moment by Anderson Valley Pinot or Monterrey County Riesling or Berkeley-made artisan Gamay. Maybe you simply want your tasting room trips to be red carpet experiences and would like some smiles to go along with that credit card receipt of yours.
If that's you, then you definitely must come here - to see if your wine-tasting worldview just might well be shattered. We all need to challenge our conventional wisdom sometimes. And if you hate it, they probably couldn't care less, because wines like these aren't made to please the rush-to-judgement tastes of the like-me-on-Facebook generation. They are in it for the long haul, it seems, one vintage and growing season at a time. Drought. Or El Nino. Wild fires, earthquakes, rising sea levels, the Dodgers winning the World Series. Or whatever. You gotta admire the moxy, even if it means a little roughness around the edges. Builds character, as they say. A slightly tough skin isn't a bad thing, sometimes - for a grape or a wine lover.
Wine is not just a product to be consumed, rated, written about on Yelp, and then forgotten. It's about a specific bunch of hard-working, slightly crazy people, and a certain number of acres of caretaken vines, which themselves can be a bit unpredictable to work with. But when the beauty of people, place, and bottled product come together, you'll feel the magic happen and you'll appreciate the whole package - the candles, the stone walls, the dogs, the baseball artwork, the attitude, and the wonderful wine that you, a mere customer, can procure. Red carpets and false charms most definitely not needed! read more