Bud Lawson died in August.
The man behind Red Lava Vineyards loved studying soils, tilling earth and just getting his hands into the dirt — habits not conducive to parlor conversation, but just about perfect for someone interested in producing wine.
“My husband treated his grapes like his children,” Kristi Lawson observed.
This level of care shows in Red Lava’s 2011 Tempranillo. To bring the glass to your nose is to open a door and be welcomed to warm and well appointed old world library on a forboding winter’s eve.
Rich aromas of ripe red plum and heavy fig settle into bowls set alongside comfortable leather Chesterfield. From the wooden bar, mugs of cocoa settle. There is an elegance to the setting, with memories of vanilla and fallen rose petals.
On the palate it shuns the new world call for fresh red fruit, instead weighting the palate with laden dark fruits, dried and smothered in chocolate. The fruits are dense and almost raisiny, like parched cranberry. The chocolate is brooding and hearty.
“I call it black cherries covered in dark chocolate,” Lawson acknowledged.
The fruits stroll out first, followed by the cocoa. This lounges over rich furrows of earth and aged leather. Yet the wine does not mull for long. As it eases to a finish, lighter notes emerge — split wood and the leisurely call of an open box of cigars.
Again, it’s like stepping into an exclusive club.
It’s that beautiful volcanic soil,” Lawson explained. “It’s an expression of the earth it was born into.”
The grapes were harvested from the same block. The Lawsons worked with winemaker Banyon Kirkendall, then with Wildhurst Vineyards, maturing the Tempranillo for two years in American oak treated to a steady toast.
Nothing unconventional in the process, yet Red Lava turned out a deep, contemplative, old world style wine.
Maybe it is all about good soil and dirty hands.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
