A dozen men, strapping and sunburned, climb all over the equipment, adjusting hoses and running to open and close valves that glitter surgically in their machined precision. Every person in motion at this minute is an expert, but Linda Trotta, Gundlach-Bundschu's winemaker of five years, runs the show. And over the next three weeks, part of what she'll be running will be enough of those hot, purple grapes to yield 20,000 cases of merlot in time to uncork at Christmas 1997. Located a quarter mile from the original stone estate house, where Jeff Bundschu's grandmother Mary still makes her home, the cave consists of two long, cool tunnels lined with 1,400 recumbent oak casks. At the very center of this climate-controlled sanctuary is a huge banquet table where private, exclusive tastings are held in a clandestine setting worthy of James Bond.
People find it less intimidating.
They also find this friendly red grape highly drinkable at a younger age than many cabernets or pinots, and at far more accessible prices. Trotta, whose personal favorite varietal is zinfandel, agrees. All through California's major winegrowing districts, from Sonoma and Napa to Monterey and Paso Robles, that loud wrenching sound we hear is the sound of old vines, many enfeebled by the pestilence of phylloxera, being ripped out. And being replanted with merlot grapes. Soon this valley will be lousy with merlot.