Oldie but goodie; A Texan in Wine Country.
Don Brady is Texan through and through. Born in Navasota, he lived in Abilene as a kid, finished high school in Beaumont, went to college at Texas Tech, then moved to Fort Stockton. His wife hails from around Alpine, and his sister lives in Wimberley. Brady, however, eschewed all the stereotypical Texas careers. The oil patch never turned his head, but the vineyard did. His grandparents were ranchers in the Fort Stockton-Bakersfield area when the University of Texas first planted grapes there in the late 1970s, on land leased from one of his cousins.
"I grew up seeing that thing grow," Brady recalls. "It looked like a neat deal."
So at Tech he studied horticulture and worked at the respected Pheasant Ridge Winery, then played a major role in Llano Estacado's explosive growth. As Brady says, "This business is a black hole. It sucked me in."
After becoming a highly decorated Texas winemaker, the 46-year-old Brady has emerged as one of the most respected vintners in the Paso Robles region of Central California. He fell in love with the place, near San Luis Obispo about halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco, a decade ago because, he said, "It's a farm and ranch community. It felt like Texas, like home."
Just with a different accent.
"I have to say things twice sometimes," he said, laughing, "especially when I've been back in Texas for a few days."
Brady was recently here for a major Paso Robles tasting at Vic & Anthony's Steakhouse, where he pitched the virtues of the exploding region, home to nearly 200 wineries — compared with 40 when he moved there. The 1,000-square-mile appellation is to Northern California what the Languedoc-Roussillon in the South of France is to Bordeaux and Burgundy.
Once it was something of a viticultural wasteland, despite the excellent terroir. But as land prices skyrocketed up north — lots of dot-com jillionaires decided to grow grapes in Napa and Sonoma — savvy vintners began flocking to the area, with its sweltering days, nippy nights and long growing season. Brady fled the vagaries of the Texas climate and responded to his wife's mandate that they not put their roots down too deeply in the Fort Stockton area. She wanted a change of pace.
"The nice thing about Paso Robles and, really, California in general, is the consistency of the fruit," he said. "We don't have acts of God wiping out every third vintage. In Texas, you'll have fruit one year and not the next. The guys making wine in Texas have really done something. They deserve a whole lot of respect and admiration.
"But, for me, (moving to Paso Robles) was a no-brainer. The timing was right. Our kids were young, and we could pick up. I wanted to make wine in the vineyard. That's where the good wine is made. Sometimes we screw it up in the winery. But good fruit gives you a big head start."
A friend suggested he visit Robert Hall, whose eponymous winery was looking for somebody to steer the program. Brady and Hall hit it off, and Brady didn't disappoint his new boss. By 2006, he had been named San Luis Obispo Vintners Association Winemaker of the Year.
Cabernet Sauvignon remains Robert Hall's cash cow. Its success has underwritten Brady's experiments with Rhône-style wines. The Paso Robles climate, soil and weather are so agreeable that just about everything works there.
Brady's message to his prospective Houston customers was this: "Take a look at these products. They're very nice wines, and they represent real value. As far as emerging regions go, we're on the cutting edge. I don't know where else you can find such a complete package of wines."
The value is certainly there. Hall and his Paso Robles brethren routinely produce wines for under $30 that, with a Napa label stuck on them, would sell for more than $50. Becoming more widely available in Houston, they deserve our serious attention.
By : Dale Robertson, Copyright 2008 Houston Chronicle April 21, 2008
