These are such amazing words. I still cannot believe that I am uttering them. When harvest began on August 13, I could not believe it then-- but it happened so quickly, so suddenly, and with such urgency-- "SHIT! We must pick those grapes tomorrow!"-- there was no time to think, to reflect.

Now, finally, there is the beginning of a little breathing room. There is still so much to do-- but there is no longer the agricultural urgency of grapes to pick NOW, at the crucially right moment-- and crucial not just in the way that is crucial every harvest, but a new and truly unique version of crucial-- the first harvest in the new winery, the first harvest in Southern California. We must get this right.

And we did it. We have 19 barrels of wine, representing 9 distinct lots, from 8 different vineyards. Of the 8 vineyards, 6 are utterly new to us, and all but two are 100 years old or older.

The wines are really good. I am not inclined to boast, but they have a kind of brilliance, partly because of how unlikely, or unknown, or unforeseen, their sources are-- but, in truth, their quality also stands on their own, separate from expectation or narrative charm.

I am going to offer you an opportunity to taste them-- but that offer will come in the next email. For now, I want to fill you in a little bit more on what has been going on; the next email will be devoted to events.

I have never worked so hard in my whole life as I have in the last several months, and there have been moments that truly tested me. I don't mean the rigors of harvest-- one embraces and celebrates those, and as hard as they might be, they leave you revitalized and invigorated. I mean the rigors of negotiating and signing a lease, and bringing in investors-- trying to turn this unlikely art project into a business with a magnificent home and a whole new future before it.

Most of that work is done; the lease is signed, as you know; and wonderful investors are in. We still have more money to raise to bring the project to completion (write me and I will tell you more), but, in what felt like a miracle at the time, we took possession of the space in July. At the end of July, my good friend Christina flew in from London to begin her internship-- and we both began an amazing adventure the likes of which neither of us had foreseen.

She is a very accomplished writer based in London who had supported her research and writing by working in wine PR. We had done a couple of events together in London, and about a year ago, she reached out to me and asked about an internship for harvest 2019. She had never worked in a winery before, and, in truth, did not have much experience with any of the kind of manual labor that we would require in our tiny, hands-on harvest operation.

But she is at the top of wine writers I know for both passion and intellect, and I trusted her spirit and her devotion completely-- and so was eager to work with her. But I was also completely unsure whether I would even have a winery for her to work in. So I demurred. "Christina," I said, "I know you need to make plans, buy tickets, get a place to stay … But can you give me a little longer to confirm? Don't worry, if I don't have a winery, Raj will take you in Santa Barbara." And then on July 4, the one year anniversary of a Lodi tasting we had put on together in London, I called her: "We have the space. You are coming to Los Angeles."

Neither of us knew what lay before us. We had no equipment, and only one Southern California vineyard confirmed. Christina wanted to make wine from a northern California vineyard that neither of us knew. Own-rooted Palomino in Contra Costa County. She was getting conflicting information about harvest from the owners. "Look," I said, "If you want to make wine from this vineyard, we have to go up and see it." She rented a pickup truck the next day and we drove north to the endless sands of Contra Costa. The owners were wonderful, the vineyard ancient and magical. And ready to pick.

We drove back to LA, rented a big truck, got Alex Pitts and Alexander Rosanelli on board, and scheduled the pick. We drove back to Napa; the Kongsgaards gave us two used Chardonnay barrels for Christina's Palomino; we put them on the truck and tied them down. The next day, we picked the fruit ourselves, drove it down Highway 5, and soon, we were stomping on old-vine Palomino, the oldest important California white varietal, in our new home in Los Angeles. The beginning.

We bought a press at a home-winemaking emporium in Napa (see the second photo above; my father says that his Italian neighbors in Cleveland, Ohio used the same one on their shipped-in California Zinfandel in 1930) and put it on the truck. We never got around to buying pumps or hoses. We made wine all harvest with the strong backs and eager arms of our friends, and a fleet of buckets of varying sizes.

The winery is in demand for photo and video shoots. We rented it out for a Nike commercial shoot on the same day that we brought in Zinfandel from the Los Angeles vineyard that is going to anchor everything that we do. We processed the fruit in the street with the help of a visiting restauranteur from London and a colleague from San Diego-- and an LAPD cop with a fondness for handmade wines. He kept traffic at bay all night while we stomped, shoveled, pressed, filled barrels-- and then cleaned up before dawn.

This Zinfandel vineyard is so wonderful and so important to us that I am going to write you a separate email devoted only to it. For now, I will tell you that it is the Lopez Vineyard, in Rancho Cucamonga; owned and farmed by a family of California winemaking heroes, nearly unknown, the Galleanos. Their family has been making wine east of Los Angeles for more than a hundred years, and they have preserved hundreds of acres of own-rooted heritage vineyards-- including the clonally unique Zinfandel of Lopez; and Mission, Palomino, Rose of Peru, and Salvador in their Home Vineyard.

It is truly the greatest honor of my winemaking career to have made wine from these two Galleano vineyards this year. Anything remarkable that we do in the new winery will have its roots in these ancient vineyards.

Over the next few weeks, Christina and I were inseparable and tireless. We drove north and south day after day, checking on and picking our prized Northern California vineyards (Bechtold, Kirschenmann, Farina); and, mostly under Christina's investigative impetus, discovering new vineyards in the South, from Fresno to Riverside. We harvested biodynamically farmed Palomino from land surrounded by raisin farms; we picked 100 year-old Palomino and Alicante from Galleano with friends in 104 degree heat; we found and harvested a mysterious, abandoned vineyard planted around 1920, full of Mission, but but also with Zinfandel, Carignane, and feral seedlings, sprouted from years of fertilized but unharvested fruit. More about this vineyard in future emails (it is pictured in the first photo above). For now, I will tell you that the owner is happy to entrust it to us; Raj and I will lead a crew of friends to prune it, for the frist time in at least two generations, in February.

You will meet Christina some day, my partner in the first harvest. Everything that we accomplished this year has the imprint of her mind and invincible spirit; every ounce of wine bears the traces of her tireless back and her arms.

I hope that this account inflames you with the desire to visit. We are not open yet-- we have so much more work to do. There will be a tasting room in the new winery, inseparable and undivided from the space in which we will make the wine. It will take us months to create both and I will keep you closely updated on all of our progress. So, for the grand opening, you must be patient. In the meanwhile, we will very happily welcome you for casual visits-- wait for the next email.

I also hope so strongly that this account will also inspire even more patience than you have already shown. Many of you are waiting on wines that you ordered weeks ago-- or that I promised you months ago. I really thought that we would be able to bottle our Spring wines in Los Angeles in late Spring. I was so wrong. I am just beginning to have the time and concentration to plan that bottling. You must wait a little longer-- and we will finally get you the wines. Brenna has worked hard to stay on top of what we owe you, but don't hesitate to check in with her.

Over the next few days and weeks, I will offer you library wines, 2019 olive oil, and update you on all bottlings. In the next email, I will give you a quick list of some very fun events coming quickly-- including the promised opportunities to visit the new space.

I am so grateful for your interest, your enthusiasm, your support. This is just the beginning of something very good, and very, very exciting.

You can see Christina's Instagram account of our harvest here.

It's an enthralling show. Pour a glass of wine before you click.