Hot Winoz

They say, “In wine, is truth.” Or Plato did anyway, and we all know how he felt about wine. Well, when Hot Knives attended the Los Angeles Wine and Food Festival last weekend, we found the exact opposite to be true. After the umpteenth glass of Vignonier, we started recycling adjectives–buttery, oak finish, summer peaches–and many of the wine reps filling our glasses would nod their drunken heads in agreement (except the lady that insisted that we did not taste apricots in her wine).
How do you translate “In wine, is bullshitting” into Latin?
Then again, we expected the two-day red carpet wine orgy–which took place in the belly of the L.A. Convention Center–to validate our asshole beer dude ‘tudes. Instead, something odd happened: We found ourselves excited, giddy even, for the occasional wine that floored us, like finding a diamond in the rough. If two-thirds of the wines we tasted were unimpressive, the rest of them were awe-inspiring. The event also taught our purple-stained tongues a thing or two about distinguishing between an estate-grown, small-run artisan nectar and high-priced, corporate grape juice.
We began our wine adventure at a reserve tasting the night before the expo. Fueled by strong weed and a bad case of the wine-imposter jitters, we checked in for our press credentials and grabbed some tasting glasses. About half the participating wineries attended, bringing their select bottles–the showy shit they were most proud of–and poured until all of them were empty. The Cabs showed up, as did the Zins, the Merlots, some Barberas and more than enough Chardonnays, but once in a while we came across amazing wines, shit we’d never heard of, and wine people who weren’t just adjective robots. All in all, the night was a blur, a cherry-popping introduction that quickly turned sinister when we realized most of the weirdo wine reps were there hunting for “convention booty,” so we guzzled fast and high-tailed it out of there. We learned two things the first night: be wary of the sales lackies who have nothing to do with the actual winemaking (hired sluts, as those in the business call them) and always, always use the spittoon.
We learned that lesson when we woke up.
As for the wineries that blew our minds, and blew ass, here’s a short list.

Niner Wine Estates
Why they’re dudes: The president of the company, Brian Storrs, was doing the pouring, and when he decided all the serious wine people were gone he packed up and drove to the beach to drink.
What’s their deal: A two-vineyard winery in Paso Robles with excellent fucking taste. Welcome to Wine Country, biatch!
Flagship wine: For opening night, Storrs opened a reserve wine not yet released called Old Fog Catcher that was some sort of mean concoction of Cabernet Sauvignon and was mighty tasty. Their 2003 Sangiovese, however, was a party of earth, nut and berry–one of the finest dry reds we tasted all weekend.
Saint Helena Road Vineyards
Why they’re dudes: Patty and Richard Maier, the owners, poured us glass after glass without a hint of annoyance or pretension.
What’s their deal: The couple runs a pricey vineyard bed and breakfast in Sonoma County, and only recently decided to bottle their own wine in tribute to Grandfather Maier. Good choice.
Flagship wine: Roy J. Mair Cabernet Sauvignon is what you might call a mutt: it’s 80 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, 10 percent Merlot, 5 percent Malbec, 4 percent Cabernet Franc and 1 percent Petit Verdot. It’s also 100 percent the best in show.
Trewa
Why they’re dudes: As we learned the second day, this winery is owned by the same company that produces Monkey Puzzle wine, which immediately hurt their dudeness level; however, they gracefully dealt with us screaming “coffee notes!”
What’s their Deal: A Chilean winery with mostly mediocre varietals and bad packaging.
Flagship wine: The 2003 Carmenere is the only thing that stood out about this winery, but it’s good enough to make up for everything else. We hear it’s being sold for next to nothing by accident.
St. Barthelemy Cellars
Why they’re dudes: They are extremely old and only make ports.
What’s their deal: They’re basically wine merchants who have taken to using others’ grapes and finished wines and aging them. Then they fortify the wine with double-aged brandy.
Flagship wine: Their 2003 Pinot Noir Port didn’t sound like something we’d like, but we agreed to try all seven of their super ports and found this one especially strong. It had a pinot taste plus a hazy, strawberry-spice finish, but kicked our ass like a liquor.
Medeci Ermete
Why they’re dudes: The sales rep who poured our glass wasn’t actually part of the winery, but judging from his three-piece “Fuck America” tailored suit, he sold us.
What’s their deal: An Italian winery that for 20 years has grown their own grapes for a series of Lambruschi, or naturally fermentation-carbonated wines, both white and red.
Flagship wine: 2005 Lambrusco Concerto is a slightly fizzy red wine, which is an anomaly among American attempts at carbonated reds: Its bubbles are not upfront and neither is it’s sweetness. Instead it’s a dry, almost bitter, red wine that tastes like spicy cherries. This Lambrusco would be a good, meaty replacement for brunch champagne.
Harvest Moon
Why they’re dudes: The owners of this Russian River winery set out to make 200-case runs only, which is stout as shit.
What’s their deal: A good example of “estate wine,” which began as simply a vineyard, but in 2001 they decided to keep the fruit and bottle their own wine. We call it old vines.
Flagship wine: Pitts Home Ranch Zinfandel, a special reserve Zin, made one of us shout “blue cheese!” to the mild displeasure of its pourers. Apparently, it’s not a description they’d heard before, but this classy wine had such an amazing Roquefort aftertaste that we begged to take one of their bottles home. Liquid cheese. The fact that they complied proved their radness.
Earthquake
Why they blow: All of their wines have specialty joke names that sound more like action movies than wines.
Worst wine: The Seven Deadly Zins.
Opolo
Why they blow: The rep was a douche bag who kept recruiting cute girls to feed him cheese and loved describing wines with the word “nut.”
Worst wine: Cabernet Sauvignon; it tasted like everyone else’s.
J. Jacaman Winery
Why they blow: This winery epitomizes the sleek wine aesthetics rich bachelors think is sexy, which makes us want to chug IPAs and forget about grapes altogether.
Worst wine: J. Jacaman Fall Reserve. LAA