For more than fifty years, we’ve done things a little differently. Sometimes intentionally. Sometimes because we didn’t know any better. Usually both.
My parents started this business by planting Portuguese varieties in Amador County when almost nobody in California knew what they were. Over the years we leaned into old vines, obscure grapes, Port-styled wines, and varieties many wineries would overlook. We built relationships on handshakes instead of contracts and crafted wines of people an place.
That road has never been the easy one, but it’s the reason St. Amant still exists today.
The modern wine world can often feel like a sea of sameness. Big brands. Manufactured stories. Wines designed to taste interchangeable from one bottle to the next. That’s never interested us. We’ve always believed wine should taste like somewhere. Like a vineyard, a family, and a history. Our wine club is really an extension of that philosophy.
Every year we make more than twenty wines, many in very small quantities. Some come from vineyards planted before Prohibition. Some are varieties most people have never heard of. Others are reinterpretations of California classics shaped by old vines, sandy soils, and the Delta breeze. These are not wines designed by committee. They are wines with personality.
But we also realized that most wine clubs are too rigid. Too many rules, too much obligation, and too many shipments filled with wines people didn’t choose.
So we decided to rethink ours.
Starting this year, the St. Amant Wine Club becomes more flexible and customizable:
Want all Zinfandel? Great. Curious about Alicante Bouschet, Bastardo, or Trousseau? Even better. Want four bottles one release and a full case the next? That works too.
At the end of the day, the club should work the way people actually drink wine.
More importantly, joining the club directly supports the kind of winegrowing and winemaking that is becoming increasingly rare. Generational farming families. Historic vineyards. Long term partnerships. Wines tied to a real place and community.
In a world chasing scale and efficiency, we’re still chasing character.
That’s the road we’ve been on for more than fifty years now. A little stubborn. Occasionally painful. Rarely boring.
And we wouldn’t have it any other way.
