The first time I drank The Prisoner, a red blend wine from Northern California, was about 10 years ago with friend Tom S. in Sacramento where he lives. I was there on business and we met at an Italian place in Roseville. The wine was impactful, different, really good and memorable. The Prisoner has in fact gained ‘cult’ status among many wine aficionados since it emerged on the wine scene about two decades ago. The wine was embraced by regular wine drinkers as well as critics for its bold new interpretation of what a California red blend could be. The wine blend changes by the year and harvest but is consistently comprised of Zinfandel, Cabernet Sauvignon, Petite Sirah, Syrah and Charbono. Rutherford-born winemaker Dave Phinney launched the brand, now based in Oakville, in 2000. Given Phinney’s Napa Valley orientation, the wine drinks “big” and features that signature, fruit-forward style that Napa is famous for.
Of course the name, as well as the label, is pretty unforgetable too.
From its website, The Prisoner Wine Company’s “brand name and flagship label were inspired by an etching titled Le Petit Prisonnier by 19th century Spanish artist Francisco Goya. Its subtitle translates to “the custody is as barbaric as the crime”. The sketch is part of Goya’s series The Disasters of War, created as a visual protest to the injustice and brutality of the Spanish War of Independence in 1808. From our founding, The Prisoner Wine Company has stood against oppression while embracing creativity. Fighting injustices in our society, especially those tied to our prison and policing systems, is indelibly etched into our identity and a focus of our commitment as an organization. At The Prisoner, we know that the problems in the U.S. prison system are ingrained, nuanced, and seemingly intractable. We also believe that change can happen and that it starts with conversation, collaboration, and creativity.”
That’s some pretty deep shit for a wine. But hey, it’s your life, your wine, etc., do your thing.
Anyway back in the restaurant with Tom – I had veal saltimbocca, the classic Roman dish made with proscuitto as well as the veal, and a butter sauce of light red wine. The most memorbable part of the evening, however, was not the food, The Prisoner or great company, it was something Tom said, and last night’s dinner reminded me of this moment in time – funny how a wine can do that. Our server that evening was somewhere between super-cute and gorgeous; late 20s, maybe 30. Here’s two average-looking and married white guys with “dad bods” in their mid-50s and the young lady was the kind of pretty that you just couldn’t ignore, and even as a pair of respectful gentlemen, we naturally compared notes on our server’s good fortune – her looks.
At which point Tom said: “Yeah but we’re invisible to her.”
It was funny as hell, and so accurate.
My other good Tom friend, Tommy R., brought a bottle of The Prisoner over for my cellar on one of his recent visits (which normally entails eating and drinking in Healdsburg), and last night knowing I was going to do a meat feed of tangy barbecued ribs that were leftovers from a house party I had catered earlier this summer (and they held up extremely well, frozen), I busted out The Prisoner (2019).
Don’t get me wrong, the wine was delicious, and the pairing excellent with the ribs, which I jazzed up with some Korean BBQ sauce and also poured a little of the wine in the bottom of the baking dish so they wouldn’t dry out in the heating process. Yet what struck me about drinking the wine was how unremarkable it was. It also reminded me something JP said at a wine tasting I was doing at Lambert Bridge (JP is the in-estate Sommelier) when we were talking about sparkling wines and Champagne – even though we were not drinking that varietal and for context, the discussion was about wine marketing and the evolution of Americans’ embrace of wine drinking. Someone in our group brought up Veuve Clicquot as an example of moderately high-priced Champagne mediocrity that managed to get a fan base, and keep it, years ago. I know because when I was first married, it’s what my then wife and I drank on special occassions, some 30 years ago now. JP agreed with the analogy as, if memory serves, we went into a tasting of LB’s Crane Creek Cuvee.
The Prisoner wine experience I had this weekend speaks more to my own changes in taste, as again, the wine was delicious and there’s a place for it in your wine rack. At nearly 50 bucks, however, it’s too expensive for a Tuesday night wine but would I open it with friends at my house when I make a home-made ‘gravy’ to go over bowls of creamy polenta and Sicilian-roasted broccoli? Probably not. I’d go for something I got from Kermit Lynch, a (red) Bandol perhaps, or maybe something local, like Lambert Bridge’s Malbec, or even a Petit Sirah that Portalupi makes up in Mendocino County, and save The Prisoner for a Thursday night with delivered pizza.