Jed Steele Week - Orcas Island

For no particular reason, I haven't made it to Orcas Island until this past Wednesday. Maybe it's because I grew up in the county, on farm fields and in ditches, or generally work 2-3 jobs at a time, or run a lot, and to just sit on a ferry and be present is time I hardly ever allot for. Mind blown. Maria had just completed her first marathon on Orcas, which included a trek up Mt. Constitution, and here I was eating 6 pieces of pizza and a meal from Dick's in one sitting as if pavement US culture is lyfe.

With some planning and a great boss, I was able to leave midweek to enjoy the fruits of Red's immense labors regarding a week in celebration of Jed Steele.

Look at this walrus-whiskered man. He's the best person. 47-years involved in the wine industry. He started work in the cellar at Stony Hill in Napa Valley in '68, got a Masters in Enology at UC Davis, started Edmeades, then Kendall-Jackson, then Steele in 1991, producing wines from Santa Barbara to Mendocino. Many of his wines in final bottling equate to less than 1k cases. SeeL Steele, the reserve line - Steele Stymie, Shooting Star, and Writer's Block.

The first time I had the pleasure, Red scooped up the Vino ladiez after work Tuesday, along with commissioning Chef CC to make a charcuterie platter with sliced apples drizzled in lemon, and a bottle of beautiful rose, and took us to the Garage, a 1928, clear-span building with 7,500 sq. ft. of bowling, pool & boozing in Seattle for an underground bowling tournament. Jed was on the megaphone, a large selection of his wine was poured, pizza adorned the booth tops covered in seafood, ricotta, damp arugula; I couldn't stop. I wasn't hungry. I couldn't stop. The more I drank the worse I bowled. The tournament was held to celebrate the restaurants/bars that support Jed Steele wines, so we were playing against a bunch of young horny servers. Team Vino did not bode well in the competition. We went to Dick's after for cheeseburgers, fries, chocolate shakes, and fighting off Karis from trying to put lipstick on everyone, including Red. Passed out, open cotton-mouthed on the ride back north, where we got a few hours of sleep before dashing off to catch the morning ferry to Friday Harbor.

God the day was blue of blue. Red worked, I edited a manuscript, we got coffees and yogurt, hefted boxes of wines to boutique shops, and back in line to catch the boat to Orcas with Jed and his lady, Paula, an artist with good genes. On the boat we talked basketball and football and how we've changed, all the while I'm admiring the glint of a green gem earring adorning Jed's lone left ear lobe.

Once we landed on Orcas, the road into town was winding and thick in green of green trees and buds, falling between pockets of speed and be-present-20-mph, until the trees cleared, revealing the coastline. We stopped at Cafe Olga where they were setting up for the wine and hors d'oeuvres tasting, on the wooden front deck beneath tall trees and sunspots. I had to miss this occasion for a workout - the sooner I could get it over with, the sooner I could drink. It was shorts and sports bra weather. Checking in to our place at the Inn at Ship Bay, I got directions to Moran State Park, but in the end created a little back-and-forth Airport Rd. on/off w/o. Finishing back at Cafe Olga, the tasting had subsided, with three Orcas characters sipping from the dregs: a local chef, a well-dressed playboy with slick gray hair and gauged ears with hot blue plastic horned earrings drooping low & his girlfriend with size 11 feet & cute spacious teeth. The three of them reminisced about their couple months spent in Mexico, riding wheelers, breaking heel bones and toes in their adventures. They got into fast cars and accelerated through the boutique streets of a boutique town.

The view from our room.

Our yellow abode.

Part of our meal,  grown in the gardens, erupting in color.

I open-mouth snore-slept, exhausted, before our dinner at Inn at Ship Bay. We dressed well, sipping white; walked around the property, toured the gardens where all the food was grown for our meal, sampled oysters, crackers with seafood spreads, and then I orgasmed over the NV 'Black Bubbles' Sparkling Syrah served on silver platters.

You need to try this: Black Bubbles

Jed, Preacher of Wine.

Dinner with Jed Steele began with the 2013 Shooting Star Sauvignon Blanc & NV Black Bubbles, and when we sat down family style, Jed gave commentary on the wines we'd be enjoying accompanying the 4-course meal the Inn would serve. The first course: A spring vegetable salad paired with his 2013 Viognier. 

The second course: Sweet grass farm beef brisket & Weathervane scallop with cherries, cherry jus, frilly mustards and paired with 2005 Pinot Noir, Goodchild Vineyard, Santa Barbara County. The third course: Coffelt lamb, morels, ramps & kale with 2005 Stymie Reserve Merlot. The final and fourth course: Chocolate mousse with Ship Bay italian plums and Jed's 2004 Port. I have never, in my life, had such incredible food. The chef is magic, and the pairing with Jed Steele is doublemagic. It's unfortunate, but also very cool that we decided that I'd go dry until Eugene after this event. On the one hand, it was the best salute, on the other, I'm dying to drink Steele. This is a huge test of will. Please drink some of him for me. 

Woke up as the light was seeping and the dew was on the webs and green lush farmhouse compound grass, deer were grazing. We packed up the car & headed to the ferry so I could get to hospital for work. A button-pour coffee and the final touches on round one of the manuscript against a backdrop of,