wine and coffee
So, the old man came to town this past week. On his first two days here, we undertook a quest to track down the two elixirs Oregonians are best at making: wine and coffee.
First up was the wine country on Thursday. We stopped in at Rex Hill (more for the free maps than for anything else) and tried a bit of winey chocolatey sauce. Mmmm. Next up was Argyle, which had a kick-ass Riesling. Discard everything you know about that nasty Blue Nun crap: this Riesling was the real deal. It’s like a fight between a grapefruit and a peach, and everybody wins.
We brought the bikes with us, thinking we’d take a ride to a vineyard or two. Archery Summit Road was reputed to have the twin charms of scenery and libations. But we never got to find out. I’m sure you noticed that I italicized the word road in the previous sentence. I wanted to tell the traffic engineers of Yamhill County, “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.” Because where I come from, a road is something a little more substantial than a guy poking a hole in a bag of gravel, slinging it over his shoulder, and ambling across the countryside.
‘Sokay. If the Archery Summit Winery had wanted our business, they would’ve put a sign up that said, “Archery Summit Haphazard Gravel Pile,” and we could’ve gotten the requisite team of Sherpas and mules required to ascend it. Instead we pedaled back into town and inquired into the Pinot Station. I know, the name makes everyone want to get all haughty and Sideways-ish about it, but they actually had a couple of decent pours. One was a berrylike, curranty Pinot that was like biting into a cherry tomato. Cleo’s Hill, I do believe it was.
Friday revolved around a pilgrimage downtown to Powell’s, the wonderfully gigantic city block of a bookstore, punctuated by espresso shots all along the way. Nothing to write home about in the coffee department, but we did get some delicious tea at Tea Chai Té. And the clear skies made Jamison square a no-brainer for that afternoon.