There’s a lot of talk about sustainability these days, and a lot of photos of sheep in vineyards. We’ve got cows. This one showed up by accident and didn’t want to leave. But my dad grew up on a dairy farm and always loved cows, so it felt like a natural fit. Not exactly curated, not something you’d plan, but real life at St. Amant.
And after more than fifty years in this business, that’s usually where the story starts.
In 1974, my parents harvested their first crop of grapes from our ranch in Amador County. Those grapes were bottled as a vineyard-designated Zinfandel Rosé by Concannon Vineyards. That wine, and that experience, launched our family on what has now become more than a 50-year journey into the wine business.
It has been an adventure, a road less travelled, filled with potholes, twists, and turns. Whether it was frost, fires, or floods, or more self-inflicted issues like rattlesnake bites, severed fingers, and smashed knees, this business has a way of testing you. There were lawsuits, broken contracts, and plenty of deadbeats along the way. We’ve had wine stolen and vines stolen. Black widow bites, a redwood stake through the arm, beavers flooding the ranch, and phylloxera eventually killing our vineyard. If a mistake could be made, we made it. If a problem could happen, it seemed to find us. And yet, we’re still here!
That history shapes how we think about everything we do today.
But before getting there, it’s worth recognizing what has actually allowed us to make it this far. My mom is still here, still working in the tasting room, still involved in the day to day. Many of you know her well. I’ve been here alongside her for decades, which in a small family business often means doing whatever needs to be done, whether you get paid for it or not. My kids more or less grew up here, playing on barrels, climbing on boxes, and being around it all from the start.
My sister has been part of it, my aunt and uncle have been part of it, and there have been a lot of friends over the years who have stepped in when we needed help. And many of you have been coming long enough to see it evolve. You’ve seen familiar faces on our team grow into their roles and build lives of their own. None of it is particularly formal, and we don’t talk about it much, but it’s part of what keeps a place like St. Amant going.
Our partnership with Mohr-Fry Ranches is another piece of that continuity. We’ve been working together for more than 30 years, and their family has been farming in California for 171 years. There’s no formal contract. There never has been. Just a handshake and a shared understanding that we’re in this together.
That kind of history gives you a different perspective when you hear the word sustainability.
These days, it’s everywhere. Spend a few minutes online and you’ll see vineyard photos, sheep grazing between the rows, and a lot of carefully framed moments that suggest a connection to the land. And again, I have nothing against sheep. They serve a purpose. But a photo of sheep in a vineyard is not sustainability.
Somewhere along the way, sustainability became something that could be packaged and presented. There are consultants, programs, reports, and certifications layered on top of each other. Large companies talk about it. Organizations talk about it. Much of it feels like an attempt to check the right boxes.
But sustainability, at least the way we’ve experienced it, isn’t something you declare. It’s something you live over time, usually through decisions that aren’t always easy.
This past year was one of those moments. Like much of the industry, we felt the challenges. It would have been easy to scale back, to reduce commitments, to make decisions based strictly on self-interest. Instead, I chose to purchase grapes from our growers while leaving a portion of our own crop unharvested. That’s not a decision you make if you’re thinking about your pocketbook. It’s a decision you make if you’re thinking about the people you work with and the community you live in.
To me, that’s sustainability. It’s making sure the people around you can survive the difficult years, not just the good ones.
In the vineyard, it shows up in quieter ways. We’ve moved to no-till farming, established permanent native cover crops, and allowed the natural areas around our ranch to thrive. These are not quick fixes for Instagram. They are long-term decisions that only make sense if you plan to be here for decades.
We’ve also stayed committed to programs like LODI RULES, not because we needed a certification, but because it reflects a broader community trying to move in the right direction together. It’s less about standing apart and more about contributing to something larger than yourself.
When I think about sustainability in that context, it becomes a little simpler. It’s the ability to keep going. To support the people around you. To stay committed to a place. And to build something that lasts longer than you do. That’s what we’ve been trying to do for the past fifty years. And we’re grateful you’ve joined on that journey.
Recently named Best Value Red Blend of the Year by VinePair, this wine is a blend of Old Vine Zinfandel, Petite Sirah, and Alicante Bouschet that reflects both the quality of the fruit and our long-standing partnership with Mohr-Fry Ranches. It’s a heritage blend that speaks more to place than to any single variety, and in many ways represents a quintessential Lodi red. The Zinfandel brings bright red fruit and energy, the Petite Sirah adds structure, depth, and color, and the Alicante contributes a savory, slightly spicy edge that pulls everything together. What stands out most in this vintage is its balance. There is richness and weight, but also a freshness that keeps it lively and easy to drink. It’s a wine that feels complete without being heavy, equally at home on its own or at the table.
Marian’s Vineyard continues to be one of the most special sites we work with. Planted in 1901 on its own roots, it offers a direct link to an earlier era of California winegrowing, and it continues to deliver fruit with a level of character that is hard to replicate. The 2024 vintage shows that clearly. There is a core of vibrant red and black fruit, supported by natural acidity and a structure that builds gradually across the palate. The old vines bring concentration, but also a sense of balance and restraint that keeps the wine from feeling overdone. Our approach remains simple, focusing on minimal intervention and allowing the vineyard to define the wine. Over time, this bottling continues to develop in the bottle, gaining texture and depth while holding onto its energy.
Petite Sirah is known for its power, and in many places that reputation is well deserved. At Mohr Fry Ranches, however, the sandy soils and moderating Delta breeze shape a different expression, one that is more refined, with freshness and balance instead of the rustic edge the variety can sometimes show. The 2024 vintage has the deep color and structure you would expect, but with notable lift. Dark fruit is layered with subtle spice, and the tannins, while present, are well integrated and approachable. It is a wine that continues to open in the glass, becoming more expressive over time. That balance between intensity and freshness is what makes Mohr Fry Ranches such a well suited site for Petite Sirah.
One of the few varietal Alicante Bouschet wines produced in California, this grape has long been part of the story at Mohr Fry Ranches and remains one of the more distinctive wines we make. It also has deep roots in Lodi, dating back to Prohibition, when its large, loose clusters made it ideal for shipping back east to home winemakers. As a red fleshed grape, it naturally brings deep color, but what makes it interesting is how it performs when handled with restraint. The 2024 vintage shows bright aromatics, fresh acidity, and a core of dark fruit through the finish. Alicante reaches its balance around 21 to 22 brix, and we lean into that rather than pushing for higher sugar levels. The result is a dark, lively wine at around 13.0 percent alcohol that feels fresh and energetic rather than heavy, a reflection of both the variety and the site.
