Sandhill is a beautiful wine and a beautiful line

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Howard Soon is the head winemaker at Sandhill Winery in British Columbia. (HANDOUT)

"Howard Soon is a genius."

That’s what I said to myself (I might have actually said it out loud, rather than inside my head — I’m honestly not sure) at the Winnipeg Wine Festival during the first weekend of May.

But whether the sentiment was uttered or merely thought, the conclusion, at least in my mind, is the same. Howard Soon, the winemaker for Sandhill Winery in B.C.’s Okanagan Valley has been producing exceptional wines for the past 30 years. And I’m sorry that I only discovered them about four years ago.

I was in love with the Sandhill Chardonnay from the very first sip. Recommended to me by a friend who had been at the Sandhill Winery and who had met Soon — she raved about both him and the wine — the Sandhill Chard has been a favourite for ages. But I’d drifted away from it as I’d discovered new-to-me and different Chardonnays, because it’s always fun to try wines I’ve never had before.

However, the folly of that move was made abundantly clear when I visited the Sandhill booth at the Winnipeg Wine Fest. I wanted to try all the wines the company had on offer. And I did. But the first one poured for me was my old friend, the Chardonnay.

This was the 2010 vintage, and I melted as this elixir slipped past my lips and caressed my taste buds. How had I let this happen? How had I been without this treasure for so long?

I believe I let out a low sigh of contentment as the Sandhill Chard finally made its way down my gullet. And the look on my face must have told the whole story to the woman behind the table.

"Would you like a little more?" she asked. (These attendants almost never do that.)

I nodded wordlessly, smiling gratefully as I held out my glass.

The second sip was even better than the first.

So I became a woman on a mission.

Or a stalker, if we want to call a spade a spade.

Bottom line: I had to meet Howard Soon.

I knew he was at the Wine Festival — I’d been graciously invited by the marketing division of MLCC to attend a seminar he was giving the morning of the public tasting. But living in Brandon and having a regular job that doesn’t involve wine — well, I just couldn’t make it happen. It was enough of a juggling act to make it to Winnipeg in time for the evening tasting session.

But since I’d been told by a friend who had been at the seminar that Soon would be at the Sandhill booth, I made several return trips to it, hoping to be able to say hello and tell him how very much I enjoyed his wine.

No luck on Friday night. Nor early Saturday afternoon, when the lady at the table, whom I suspect was getting a little tired of me at that point (to be clear, I didn’t have wine each time I went back — I was just looking for Soon), said (and I thought this was funny), "Soon. He’ll be here soon."

It crossed my mind to say that everywhere he was, he’d be Soon, but I’m not sure she would have found my attempt at humour anything but feeble.)

However, mid-way through the afternoon, as I approached the Sandhill booth once again, I saw a tall, bespectacled man who I instantly knew had to be the winemaker I was seeking.

I hung back, not wanting to interrupt his interactions with other people. But when a break occurred, I strode up, my hand outstretched, with a mile-wide grin on my face. In retrospect, it’s to his credit he didn’t duck under the table to avoid me, since I probably looked like some sort of dopey, wine-crazed fool.

He accepted my hand and shook it very, very firmly. (I’m thinking perhaps squeezing a lot of grapes over the years has contributed to his death-grip of a handshake, but I’m only speculating here.) I introduced myself, told him about my wine column, and said I was from Brandon.

"Brandon!" he enthused. "I know Brandon! You have a wonderful university men’s basketball team there. National Champions, I believe."

He went on to say that he knew a guy — I wish I could remember the chap’s name — who’d played for the Bobcats at some point. We talked about the team for a moment or two, and then I told him I was a huge fan of his wine, so I simply HAD to meet him and tell him so. He was gracious, charming, and delightful. I walked away feeling like a chick who’d met a rock star. Dazzled. And pleased.

Anyway, it was really cool (dude!) to have chatted with someone who was responsible for creating a beverage of which I’m so enamoured. And for those readers who haven’t tried Sandhill wines yet, I can’t urge you strongly enough to do so.

Number one, they’re fabulous. Number two, they’re Canadian! And they’re winning awards all over the place. The weekend of the Wine Festival, the Chardonnay garnered yet another award. And to the folks congratulating him on this most recent honour, I heard Soon respond, "I don’t know if we can make them that way every year, but we’ll sure try!"

Humble and brilliant. What a great combination.

So. The Chard. It smells of apple, pear, tropical fruits, and oak, and tastes of the same. I love it. And it’s only (for this wine, this is a bargain — trust me) $16.99 a bottle.

The Merlot, too, is a great wine — quite heavily oaked, which I really like — and drier than most Merlots, too, which also appeals a great deal to me. To my taste, this gutsy little number is great, and sells for $18.99.

Because I’m so enamoured with the Chard and the Merlot, I plan, over time, to give all of the Sandhill products we have here in Manitoba a try. There’s a Cabernet Merlot that’s $18.99, a Pinot Blanc for $17.05, a Pinot Gris for $16.99, and the White Label Syrah, which is $20.99.

Sandhill. It’s a fine line of Canadian wine.

Republished from the Brandon Sun print edition May 26, 2012