Terroir
The dirt, the slope, and the fog that make the fruit.
The ground decides
Our seven blocks sit on a south-facing slope of ancient marine sediment, 720 feet up, where the morning fog burns off by ten and the nights stay cool. Pinot tastes like that fog.
The block map
block one iron-rich clay, oldest vines, 1998 block two thin volcanic soil, steepest slope block seven gravel fan, warmest, ripens first all blocks dry-farmed, no irrigation
Why it matters
We don't buy fruit. Every bottle is estate — which means every bottle is a record of one hillside, one year, and nothing else.