The plants are here, all 550x of them, and it just got serious. Here’s a reminder about how we got here.

A Quick Recap

Work related travel frequently brings me through Napa Valley, and over time I have grown accustomed to stopping at one of my favorite wineries in Calistoga, T-Vine. On one occasion in early 2018, I was tasting through a flight when the tasting room manager wandered off menu and had a little fun. “Try this…” Here’s a varietal that has less than 60 acres in the United States. Here’s a plant that loves the hot days and cool nights of Calistoga. Here’s a varietal that we just can’t get enough of (literally). Enter Charbono.

Where can I get this?

After leaving the tasting room, I checked-in to my hotel and immediately got to work. I searched every major commercial grape nursery in California for Charbono. I searched databases, fired off e-mails, and even looked overseas. Nothing. The prospects for securing Charbono plant material from a commercial nursery was not looking good. And just like that, a calling of sorts ensued.

You know when you get excited about something, you occasionally throw out discretion? That’s me. After returning home, I shared my newly purchased bottle of Charbono with Sarah and got a little gutsy. “The Charbono was sourced at Frediani Vineyards in Calistoga, I’m just going to call them before my next trip.” And so I did. I called the patriarch of Charbono, Jim Frediani. I left a message a week ahead of time, telling him of my next trip to the Valley.

First Stop: Frediani Vineyards

Leaving a voice message at the home of a heritage grower and owner of one the most storied properties in the Napa Valley is just plain foolish. What business do I have, a nobody, in calling him? Hubris, I guess…

The phone rang. A week had gone by and I had actually forgot that I called. As I was packing the night before the trip, Jim Frediani called me. “John, got your message. Sounds like you are headed out this week. Stop on by. We’ll chat.” And so I did.

As I approached the driveway, I knew that I was setting foot on hallowed ground. I say that because the Frediani property offers a stark contrast against the backdrop of newer, more curated operations owned by those without a long history in the Napa Valley. Instead, the Frediani’s property looks worn in, like a baseball glove with patina. Vintage tractors, step-side trucks, and a dusty post and beam barn. Not refurbished antiques; real family heirlooms.

The Frediani family has been cultivating grapes in Calistoga since 1901. As for their Charbono, Jim suspects that it was planted around 1935. As we toured the property side by side, he regularly consulted his pocket notebook which carefully documented each planting block by block. T-Vine describes the timelessness that is embodied at the Frediani property: “The Frediani Vineyard is a museum of old vines and long-forgotten Napa Valley varieties. In a day and age where most heritage vineyards in Napa Valley are being ripped out and replaced with more profitable Cabernet Sauvignon, the Frediani Vineyard remains a place of refuge.”

As our hot and dusty tour came to an end, Jim pulled into the shade so we could chat. I told him that I loved his Charbono, that I wanted to grow it, but that I was having a hard time sourcing it. He paused for a bit, and then told me a story: “John, a young winemaker about your age came out to the property to check out our grapes and help with a pick. I couldn’t believe how well he was dressed; I don’t know if spends much time in the vineyards.” Jim indicated that nobody wants to be a grower; “winemaking is sexier”. He then turned and said to me in a satisfying tone, “I like that you want to grow, and I’ll help you if you want it.” Jim Frediani then proceeded to offer cuttings from his Charbono and make them available for grafting, free of charge. I came here hoping for just a bit of free advice; instead, he offered his very heritage.

Grafted In

This is all just so humbling for me. Thus far, most of the people that I have encountered in this industry have helpful, almost in a paternal sense. In every way, I feel like I am being grafted-in (no pun intended). There’s a rich history with some truly wonderful people, and they want you to share in their experience. It’s like a father saying to his son, or a teacher to his disciples, “this is bigger than us.” Friends, this is bigger than wine from rare rootstock, this is the way it ought to be.