Salmanazar: 12 standard bottles, or 9 liters

Balthazar: 16 standard bottles, or 12 liters

Nebuchadnezzar: 20 standard bottles, or 15 liters

*ever wondered why it's called a "fifth"? Me too. 750 ml is actually about 1/5 of a U.S. gallon. Quiz a hobo the next he asks you for a fifth. If he gets it right, he gets the booze, and a little education.

Okay, "to catch a buzz" is a crude way of defining what the folks at Swirl, Smell, Slurp are trying to do (check out our collaboration HERE). The enigmatic "She" and "He" of this operation have struck out on a quest to taste wines from all 50 states. Dubbed the "United Slurps of America", this painstaking process involves contacting wineries nationwide, procuring product, navigating the logistical minefield that is state-by-state shipping law, booking local bloggers and other rascals to themselves wrangle identical product, tasting (or "slurping", as they say, though I've never been complimented on my audible slurping ability at any wine tasting outside of Woodstock, GA), evaluating, writing, and posting. All this while being honest, but positive enough to maintain interest in participation from potential winemakers.

But maybe it's not that simple. Maybe the winemakers and vineyard managers in West Texas, in Michigan's Leelanau Peninsula, in Delaware County, Pennsylvania, and on Georgia's Dahlonega Plateau are trying to do something unique. Maybe they're working the land with unique grapes like Seyval Blanc, Chambourcin, and Tempranillo ...trying to find what fits each area's unique climate, geography, and soil. Perhaps all the toil and effort (which is MORE THAN SIGNIFICANT in the process from grape to glass) is simply intended to express...terroir.

Is there beauty in a wine that expresses- exactly- a vine-draped piece of dirt in Iowa? Isn't the fact that no other bottle of wine on earth can truly reproduce what comes from that infinitely unique square of terrain a thing of beauty? Something worth exploring? At the very least, worth trying? We can make broad assumptions- based on our limited knowledge and experience- of where a wine should find its genesis, but we simply cannot KNOW without a personal, sensory evaluation. We may not realize what we're missing out there. Wine is the ultimate in subjectivity, and the notes, recommendations, and even warnings of others simply cannot decide for us.

So I applaud Swirl, Smell, Slurp for undertaking the ultimate evaluation; for not going the easy or familiar route and approaching the bounty of America without pretense or expectation. I'm proud of Georgia. Ben Simons is proud of Texas. Grace Hoffman is proud of Iowa. Shannon & Cortney Casey are proud of Michigan. Dezel Quillen is proud of Virginia. Brian Kirby is proud of all of the "other 46". And I think I speak for these wine lovers and the producers in our respective states when I say, "thanks for stopping by."

...yeah, you've just been bamboozled into a little education on fermentation. Zing!

Anyway, I wanted to do a little research on the area before I arrived. Temecula's just not on the map like Napa, Sonoma, or Central Coast. However, nearby visitors from Los Angeles and San Diego frequent the tasting rooms, much like Atlanta visitors do with Dahlonega wineries on the weekends. Oddly enough, due to its proximity to San Diego, I was surprised to hear that Temecula and its wine industry was not founded by the Germans. Actually, some of California's first wine grapes were grown to the west in Mission San Juan Capistrano. In the 1960's, modern grape growing and winemaking began in Temecula (at the south end of the Temecula Valley, which runs northwest up to Riverside). Now, there are over 20 wineries in the area (but unfortunately for Mr. Burgundy, not a freshly-made glass of Scotch in site).

Energized by the nourishing fat coursing through my veins from an In-N-Out Double Double, Animal-Style, I mustered the energy to visit three local wineries, all recommendations sourced to me by SoCal natives: Ponte Estate, Baily Winery, and Hart Winery, all situated off the same stretch of Rancho California Rd, east of the town of Temecula. No matter what the wines ended up being, the scenery was worth the visit. A view panning up from the twisted old vines (some 50 or more years old) showcases the snow-capped Sierra Nevadas. I had to remind myself that this is the same nation where I live; everything is so different from the East Coast.

As for said wines, there were a few pretty consistent themes: big, ripe, tannic, and uncomplicated. There were a few funkier numbers, including Hart's Tempranillo (the main grape in Spanish Red Rioja, a leather and farm funk explosion) and Mourvèdre (a grape of France's Rhône valley, known for its tobacco nuances and earthiness). Baily also had a pretty serious Meritage (a Bordeaux-style blend, meaning a red that must be comprised of only Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Petit Verdot, and/or Malbec; and only the first three in this case). However, most were heavy on fruit aromas and flavors and 14%ish alcohol levels, indicative of a hot climate. That being said, the acidity was pretty good in many, suggesting that the cooling patterns at night from the high mountains and breezes from the Pacific clearly do their work to keep the grapes from over-ripening. In the vineyards, many grapes fatten up, but the most prevalent seemed to be Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cab Franc, Syrah, Petite Sirah, Tempranillo, Sauvignon Blanc, Viognier, Roussanne, and some Italian varieties, including Sangiovese and Barbera.

In the end, having successfully spit out over 20 different wines from 3 different producers (the roads heading through the coastal ranges are no place for a wine-buzz behind the wheel), I determined that Temecula was worth the visit. I'm sure many readers of this blog (okay, both readers of this blog) get out to Los Angeles metro or San Diego for business or pleasure, and as I'm a believer in drinking local, I recommend taking the quick trip to this area. They're doing what they should be doing: making fun, accessible wines that cater to a heavy tourism business, and pricing them (for the most part) within reason, meaning almost all under $30 a bottle. They're not trying to be Napa; they're not trying to be Bordeaux. The winemakers of Temecula are producing from what the soil, the climate, and the weather provide (aka, the terroir), just like the best producers in Napa, in France, in Georgia, and- yes- in Germany, too. Prost!