Santa Ynez Valley, California
By: Sarah O'Brien - Senior Editor - floatingcork.com
The wines are pristine, almost formulaic and well rehearsed. The pourer was friendly and attentive – listening to our conversations for her queue to comment on the subject matter. Our conversation happened to be of the utmost sophistication: Red Octane Guitar Hero. Don’t knock it until you try it my friend. It was when I bonded with the pourer over rocking out to White Zombie (red, red, green, red and green simultaneously – you know, rocking out), that I wondered if a tip was appropriate, and then I frantically wondered – are we obligated to tip and I haven’t been? and then I got the hell out of there. Actually, I would have stayed and chatted the day away with my new BFF but my old company, those I arrived with, were embarrassed by my friendly ways. They thought I was putting it on thick. As if. Could I really lay it down as thick as Bill Foley himself? You know he named Lincourt after his two daughters. Sweet like Muscat but also thick as molasses. Aw, but it is a heavenly place to visit. Sweet to look at, the building the tastings sit in is cookie-cutter; bright yellow with a surrounding white picket fence, one would expect a waif of cookie aroma to be spilling out and inviting you in. But this wasn’t grandma’s house. We threw down six tastings and bought a bottle to go. Lincourt Winery, a charming establishment filled with delish that we stumbled across while looking for Foley (which we never did find).
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