Corrupt Review: Eden Rift

California's Oldest Continually Producing Vineyard Makes Outstanding Wine

Last summer, I spent many lovely hours at a lovely vacation spot having lovely conversations with a lovely man who suddenly said a scary thing. In the midst of pouring me a glass of pinot noir, he told me that he owned the winery.

Christian Pillsbury is a sweet, thoughtful, polite man who I think I’m friends with.

Before I took a sip, I readied my face to express surprise and joy. It’s a trick I learned in my twenties when dudes would announce that the CD they were about to put on was by their band. This also happened in my thirties. And forties. And fifties. Josh Radnor once locked the doors of his parked BMW-i to play me his upcoming album. I got ready.

Drop jaw in surprise.

Smile with joy.

But Christian’s wine was as great as Christian. It was better than Radnor’s album, which featured Ben Lee, whom I like a lot. But, in all honesty, Radnor’s album didn’t even provide a light buzz.

Christian’s winery is Eden Rift. It’s in Monterey, which is south of San Francisco, which is south of Napa. It sounds like where great wine isn’t made, but Calera, which makes one of the most impressive pinot noirs in America, is two miles away. It’s even posh enough there that Eden Rift offers a helicopter tour and tasting ($750 a person). I’m not sure how that works, but if Christian has ever spoken to a late-night Uber driver, I’m guessing guests take the helicopter first and do the tasting second.

As he poured me his wine, Christian told me that Eden Rift is the oldest winery in California. I brushed it off as one of those facts that have a lot of omitted qualifications, like “among presidents making this speech right now.” But Eden Rift really is the oldest continuously producing vineyard in California. Vines were planted there in 1849 by Theophile Vache, which is a great name for both a 1849 vintner and a cow minister.

After a career working in the wine business, including running marketing for Coravin (the wine openers that let you pipette out sips through the cork without ruining its seal), Christian bought the vineyard in 2016. He named it Eden Rift after both Monterey-resident John Steinbeck’s novel East of Eden and the San Andreas Fault, which runs right through his property, and he optimistically calls a rift. It’s got a famous 1906 Prarie School house where he does tastings.

Christian sent me a bunch of his wine. I do not believe he wanted me to review it. But the Corrupt Wine Writer has integrity. If a winery sends him free wine for any reason, it will get reviewed. And reviewed positively.

Eden Rift now only makes pinot noir and chardonnay, because Christian thinks they’ll grow best there. He sent me lots of both.

Christian is so 1950s, people-pleasing nice that the Estate Chardonnay ($42) surprised me. I don’t know if this is a technical term, but it has a fuck-you acidity. You notice this chardonnay. You want rich fatty fish smeared on bread with this chardonnay. You could eat spicy Thai food with this chardonnay. It’s a chardonnay that is trying, all on its own like some superhero chardonnay, to erase California’s rep for buttery, oaky, heavy chardonnays. I admire this chardonnay.

I was nervous when I poured my lovely wife Cassandra a glass of the Estate Pinot Noir ($48). Because Cassandra is not a person who prepares her face to express surprise and joy. She is brave and honest and not 1950s people-pleasing nice. She would be a terrible Corrupt Wine Writer.

Worse yet, she asks for an American pinot noir with dinner more than any other wine. Which means she has opinions.

The Corrupt Wine Writer is not obligated to share his wife’s view. In fact, if she doesn’t like something, he’s obligated to ignore it in his column.

But Cassandra went crazy for this wine. She made me email Christian to tell him how much she liked it. Then asked me to buy some, which was even crazier since we still had plenty from the big box Christian sent.

If the chardonnay is intellectual, the pinot is soulful. It’s still serious like Christian, but in a comforting, late-night way. I know Bordeaux is supposed to make you feel like you’re in a red-leather chair in a library, but this pinot noir did too. It’s more jazz than classical music. It made us stay at the dinner table a lot longer. It gave me the feeling of being in that lovely, time-slowed Northern California vacation spot where I met Christian. Only with my wife, who is much better looking.

This is the entry pinot. When I poured Cassandra the Terraces Pinot Noir ($68), she proclaimed it one of her favorite wines ever. It was even more balanced and elegant than the Estate Pinot Noir. Like a good Burgundy, it seems like it will get better with time.

I do not know what the Landsdale Pinot Noir ($84) tastes like. Because Cassandra, who is unafraid to open nearly any wine in our cellar, wants to save it. Christian has said it’s the best wine he’s produced.

The only thing I don’t like about Eden Rift is that next time someone pours me a wine and announces that he owns the winery, my defenses are going to be down.