Review: Women Winemakers and Culinarians Celebration

The eighth annual event is broader than ever. 

WORDS Ninette Paloma

As far as ancient religions go, wine has been enjoying a robust following for over 6,000 years – converting the thirsty and impressionable with alluring tales of ripe fruit and liquid sin and holy terroir.
I became a believer at 17, when Vanessa Thomas and I sashayed into a Chicago wine bar and smiled at the waiter before ordering a bottle of Three Peaks shiraz without a hint of fear. So bold was our teenage request that the waiter had no choice but to oblige. In those first foreign sips in a dimly lit banquette, my entire world broke open.

Which is why I find myself outside of the Santa Ynez Valley Presbyterian Church on a Saturday morning and a few decades later, waiting to get my drink on at the Women Winemakers and Culinarians Celebration. According to the email instructions, a bus of biblical proportions will be arriving any minute now to whisk the large crowd that has gathered around the parking lot over to an undisclosed address. Upon arrival, we are promised to be quenched and nourished by winemakers and chefs who’ve been known to spin Central Coast agriculture into art. It is as close to spiritual as I expect I’ll get today.

Now in its eighth year, the festival began as a simple bottle share between female winemakers and their fans, a chance for women in the industry to energize and support one another while sharing the yield of the season. Since then, the celebration has grown to over 50 combined chefs and winemakers touting their bounties to a perpetually sold-out crowd.

This year, the festivities took place on the fairytale grounds of 27 Vines, where guests meandered their way around reclaimed woodsheds and flora-covered archways, tasting freshly baked focaccia slathered in nasturtium butter from Good Witch Farms and leek confit crostini from Rancho Olivos along the way. Pours of note included Gretchen Voelcker’s 2023 Luna Hart cab franc in a carbonic maceration style packed with red berries and grounded spices and a satisfying, gradient finish; Karen Steinwachs’s whisper light 2022 Seagrape pinot noir, so elegant and nuanced it fluttered around my mouth in a sensual tango; Anna deLaski’s no-added-sulfur 2022 Solminer carbonic syrah – a fresh offering that tasted of dewy cherries and spring shoots; and Sonja Magdevski’s effervescent Sonja & Greg's Cider – a mourvedre/grenache blanc/granny smith apple mash-up that paired perfectly with Shanté Norwood’s strawberry cheesecake mousse finale.

By the afternoon, the crowd had gathered around the glistening pool; hands wrapped serenely around delicate stemware, women tucking long skirts between their legs as they reclined on the manicured grass. It occurred to me that each winemaker and culinarian had shaped the festival in her own distinctive image: the wisdom of Lane Tanner, the aesthetic of Janelle Norman, the wit of Cynthia Matthews, the leadership of Jessica Gasca – each one underscoring the value of the female experience.
The weather and food and wine harmonized effortlessly in an artisanal hymn; an epicurean sermon worth going to church for.