It has not been a good ten days or so here in the Drunken Cyclist household. My wife came down with the flu, and then I followed her a couple of days later. As we continue to struggle with the effects of the vestiges, a completely inexplicable horrific event befalls one of my wife’s co-workers. Even though I had never met her, my wife certainly knew her well and it caused both of us to contemplate how short and precious life really is (you can read about it HERE, but I warn you it is rather graphic).

By mid-week after countless days coughing and sneezing, and following a gruesome act, we needed something to lift our spirits a bit. Now I am in no way suggesting that consuming a simple bottle of wine will make any or all problems dissipate, it won’t ameliorate what is bringing you down, it won’t cause you to do somersaults in the middle of Main Street. It will if you let it, though, forget your woes for a moment or two.

Wine is comfort food.

Wine can help you reflect, it can provide a brief respite from the daily routine, it can evoke memories of another time. So when I went down into the cellar, I picked a bottle that I knew would flood our thoughts with more positive and refreshing memories. I grabbed our last bottle of the 2006 B Kosuge The Shop Pinot Noir. As I was walking back up the stairs, I was trying to remember the first time I had tried Byron’s (the ‘B’ in B Kosuge) wine and that turned out to be a rather futile exercise. It was quite clear, however, the first time I met Byron. A few years ago, I was flying solo through the Sonoma Valley, so I made several appointments with some smaller producers, including B Kosuge.Byron has been making top quality Pinot for years, but mostly for other people (most notably for Saintsbury as well as a handful of other labels). He does not have an elaborate, state of the art tasting room–he operates out of a corner of the Copain Custom Crush facility in Santa Rosa. I met Byron on a bright afternoon a couple summers ago, with temperatures in the high ’90s. He quickly ushered me inside and within minutes I had a stem with cool, tasty Chardonnay in my hands. What followed was one of the most informative and interesting winery visits I have ever experienced. In between climbing over barrels to thief out wine in various stages of the process, Byron answered all my questions with grace and aplomb. As I was leaving the visit with a couple of bottles that I purchased, I realized that I had been in there almost two hours–while it had seemed like far less than half of that.

Upon returning to my wife’s parents’ house, I recounted the story of the various visits to my wife (who usually accompanies me, but elected to stay with the boys this time around). I was particularly effusive about the time I spent with Byron, which apparently made quite the impression on her. On our next visit to the Bay Area, she was adamant that I return and visit B Kosuge again–this time with her at my side. The second visit was every bit as interesting as the first and my wife became a convert as well (when she visits a restaurant, she will quickly order one of Byron’s wines if they are on the menu).

This week, when I sat down at the table, bottle in hand, my wife announced that she did not feel much like drinking, so I was on my own. I subtly turned the label toward her and after a few minutes, she took a glance.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was a Kosuge? You know he is one of my favorites!” She got up from the table and returned with a Pinot stem.

“Changed your mind?” I asked. She just smiled and poured herself a glass. For a few moments at least, we forgot what was ailing us and took comfort that there are people like Byron in the world.