I have no idea how to describe this in regular wine vocabulary. Okay, it’s pale and translucent, even relative to the EWCY norm. It has sweet scents of sucking candies and less-sweet scents of, I dunno, maybe rhubarb. I just pulled that out as a free-association thing, I have only the vaguest idea what rhubarb actually smells like. It’s laid-back and restrained on the palate with a light brushing of tannin that seizes up just a bit more firmly on the back end, and overall sort of like a cross between a Jura trousseau and the kind of wine the Brits would call a “luncheon claret.” But none of that really remotely gets at what this is.
I have no idea what this is. I had to look up the original email to figure out what grapes were in it, and even after I cheated and looked up the email, I still guessed wrong. It’s 50% zinfandel, 35% carignane, and 15% chardonnay, in case you were wondering, which you shouldn’t have been. That doesn’t get at what it is, either.
Back when California was more famous for crappy merlot than for jewels like EWCY, there used to be this phrase “international style” to disparage overly commercial wines like those Bordeaux or Tuscan wines made to taste like crappy California merlot. The complaint was that they could “come from anywhere,” but it wasn’t actually true - international-style Bordeaux still tasted like Bordeaux, just crappy. Okay, but what if there was a scenario where “come from anywhere” wasn’t actually a bad thing but a good thing. The appellation on this bottle is “California” but I don’t have much trouble imagining that Hardy could grow grapes in Kansas, or Tahiti, or Azerbaijan and still manage to make a wine infused with the same spirit, because the important thing about it isn’t where it came from but where it ends up. And where it ends up is global, international in the best way - this is the wine that’s in the carafe whether you’re an Italian grandmother serving spaghetti and meatballs for a family of twelve, a grizzled French man at the village bistro smearing a torn baguette in escargot butter in between drags of a cigarette, or another American wine board geek who’s been through all the Current Things but all along just kind of wanted something pretty much like this. It is the brotherhood of all of those wines.
Agree totally with the post and even more so with the attempt to describe what Hardy is doing and dropping little breadcrumbs along the unmarked trail Hardy is blazing. In some ways Hardy is swimming against the current of everything I’ve learned in 35 years of vinous living, loving, and learning. Terroir, varietal characteristics, “hands-off” winemaking…everything is yes, but…important, but capable of balancing, juggling, stretching for something more. Hardy is dangerous to all my preconceptions, but I think I’ve tasted enough of his wines to tighten my belt, straighten my shoulders and follow him for now; corkscrew and tasting glass at the ready; imagination ready to be stretched.
Not having the vocabulary to describe Hardy’s wines seems to be a very shared experience. I can’t think of any other wines where so many experienced tasters are at a loss for words.
The closest I’ve seen people struggling to describe wines would be LdH whites… but that’s only from people experiencing them for the first or second time.
Gratitude to all of you who not only see these wines but also take the time to share so freely what they are. From TNs that span wild psychedelic adventures to deep breaths, you find the words that Kate and I can’t.
The Family Band makes me smile. It occupies a similar slot in each release where blends such as Go Rick Red!, Five Points, Local Election, etc. have lived. These are the sleepers, the ones that look the strangest on paper, and create untasted confusion to the intellect - yet, to me, they deliver joy, wonder, and mystery. They are the hardest to make and the most rewarding for us to drink.
I just had my first bottle, and holy cats - it’s shockingly good! Certainly among the best of the EWCY bottles I’ve had so far, maybe second to Chendawg the first but it’s a tough call.
Nothing else to add that Keith’s note didn’t cover. Hats off to Hardy & co. I hope everyone gets to have a bottle as pleasant as Family Band was.
Apart from opening and tasting bottles in the tasting room, I hadn’t sat with a full glass of 2021 Family Band since Thanksgiving and that was with dinner and family.
Last night, inspired by this thread and the full moon, I poured a glass after cleaning the tasting room. I cranked the speakers, sat in a chair, and had a long moment with the Family Band- no food, no company, just this wine, this space, and sound.
It was as good as any wine I’ve ever made. Spiritual. Soulful. Delightful. It was as beautiful of a wine experience as I remember.
Gratitude for all the love for this one - I feel it , too.