EVEN IF YOU'RE DRAWN to California's Sonoma County for its great wine and the high-style cuisine that enhances it, you can't help noticing that everywhere grapes and history blend to produce a stronger brew. Visit the small, family-run Martini & Prati, one of the oldest wineries in California, and you'll find the pride of Sandi Martini, the young offshoot of four generations of vintners, and her palpable love of the 100-year-old operation lingering far longer than the glasses of "Vino Grigio," Zinfandel, and Merlot available in their tasting room.
The space was once used as a barn, and a bunkhouse for workers during harvest time. After Martini's great-great-grandfather, Rafael, left his storefront in San Francisco to come out to the Russian River Valley, a place that reminded him of his Tuscan homeland, he farmed artichokes and fruits and tended grapes. The Martinis and other Italian immigrant families forged a community there that persists to this day.
Sandi Martini Coero recalls a tradition started in the 1950s when her grandfather, Elmo, and his friends would gather at the end of a day to talk and uncork some red wine. This led to other locals appearing, jug in hand, to fill up on the house red. Five years ago, the younger Martinis revived the custom. "It's become a regular stop on people's weekly errands and is in the spirit of Grandpa entertaining his friends in the tasting room," Sandy says. "We call it the Jug Club, and after twelve refills they get a free one. The Vina Rosa "is reasonable at $12, and it's not `headache in a glass,'" she says, "but we don't sell it outside the tasting room because it's too difficult to ship."
With such a strong sense of the past informing Martini & Prati, it's not surprising to learn that its massive 11,000-gallon redwood tanks are nearly a hundred years old. "They will last forever," says the woman tending the bar of the tasting room. "You won't see them anywhere else. Everyone has gone stainless steel." The faces of Elmo and Rafael beam from old photos printed on the labels of Martini & Prati's Special Reserve. As Sandi tells visitors, "We think of ourselves as a living museum."
The roads in this part of the county run past a landscape of farms and grazing cattle, with sudden shifts to shadowy ancient stands of redwoods and glimpses of shimmering loops of the river as it makes its slow way to the sea. In the Russian River Valley the grapes of Chardonnay, Zinfandel, and Pinot Noir benefit from a "long hang time." They ripen slowly on the vine, thanks to cool evenings, sandy soil, warm days, and a morning fog that keeps the sun from penetrating.
Korbel, the well-known maker of champagne, presides over a beautiful property on the Russian River. Like Martini & Prati, it is the product of immigrant dreams. In 1855 the three brothers Korbel had to flee their native Prague after the eldest, Francis, loudly advocated the overthrow of the Hapsburgs and was jailed. He managed to escape, and they all made their way to New York and then west to San Francisco, ending up in the redwood country, where they ran a sawmill. As the lumber industry declined in the early 1880s, the brothers began to plant, using methods of champagne cultivation they had learned in their homeland. Their business went on to flourish in the hands of their descendants, who managed to hold on during Prohibition, as did others in the area, by producing sacramental wines. In 1954 the Korbels sold the winery to Adolph Heck, whose family members still run it.
While wandering the landscaped grounds, you can see marks of a long tenancy, from the ivy-clad stone tower once used as a brandy still, and bearing signs of damage from the 1906 earthquake, to the shady hillside garden first planted in the 1880s. In it, 250 varieties of antique roses thrive, some of them well over 150 years old. The garden borders the Korbels' white-frame summer house, perfectly maintained but last inhabited in 1939. …