Nozzari Vineyard
Four acres of Goldridge loam in the Sebastopol Hills, reclaimed from the blackberries and hand farmed by us every season. Cool nights, morning fog, and a site that rewards patience.
What We Discovered
The Nozzari Vineyard was planted in 2002: four acres of Goldridge loam, 2,800 Dijon clone vines at 8 by 5 foot spacing. A notable vineyard management company farmed it through its early years. Then it was left alone. By the end of 2020 it had sat untouched for four years, and despite the resident flock of sheep’s best efforts, the blackberries had taken it.
When a close family friend asked us to help bring it back, we said yes before we really knew what we were taking on. We had no idea what we were uncovering. It took more than two months of cutting just to reach the vines, and only then did we start to understand what had been waiting underneath.
What We Uncovered
The Nozzari Vineyard sits in the Sebastopol Hills, the fog covered hills just west and south of town. Even by Russian River Valley standards this corner runs cool, with lower daytime highs and less heat across the season. The fruit ripens slowly and holds onto its freshness.
Beneath the vines is Goldridge, a fine sandy loam formed from an ancient seabed three to five million years old. It drains fast and holds little in reserve, so the vines have to dig deep and work for what they get. They answer with small crops of concentrated fruit. Every year since we took it on, Nozzari has rewarded us with that concentration and depth, and with a character that is unmistakably its own.
What it takes
Nozzari has never made it easy. We dry farm, so every season comes down to what the winter rains left in the ground and how the vines hold up through the heat. The same fog that shapes the site brings steady disease pressure, and from bud break to harvest the canopy needs our hands and eyes every week. There are cold mornings of pruning, long days on our feet in the rows, sore backs, stiff hands, and blackberries that never fully give up.
What keeps us going is what ends up in the glass.
