Wine tasting — or gymnastic event?

That’s what I was wondering as I watched Steve Martell of Kaleidos climb up between two stacks of oak barrels, stacked three high. That and gee, I hope Paso Robles isn’t hit by the next Big One, right now.

But the earth stilled beneath our feet, and Steve’s thief sucked up enough young wine for him to lean down, aim, and release some into my glass below. Wow. Pure syrah happiness, this barrel of juice from the ‘06 harvest had been rightfully identified as special by the winemaker, worthy perhaps of a separate bottling. (The young, beflip-flopped former midwesterner, who graduated from UC Santa Cruz, did a stint at Clos Pepe, and then hung out his own shingle in Paso just four years ago, doesn’t own any vines yet. But he sources grapes from the best vineyards he can get contracts with, most of them on the prized west side of this fast-growing appellation.) Distinctly classy compared to Kaliedos’s dominant, more hedonistic style, with a lot of poise and a little pepper, for a moment it transported me out of the oak-speckled yellow knolls of Paso to the steep cliffs Côte of Rôtie in France. Formidable!

For more on this up-and-comer — plus a woeful disappointment at my formerly fave producer in Paso — click here for more:

Although right now production is tiny (only at about 1,000 cases), Kaleidos is very typical of the new breed of winery in Paso Robles. Because it’s a fast-emerging appellation — in 1990, there were only 20 wineries in Paso while today there are more than 170 — there are a lot of wineries around owned by energetic Gen Xers who, like Steve Martell, only have a few vintages under their belts. The relatively cheap price of land and grapes makes Paso a perfect place, too, for ambitious future Mondavis to get a foothold in the business. (According to a recent report, an acre of land suitable for vineyards in San Luis Obispo County sells for an average of $35,000; a ton of cabernet sauvignon grapes will cost a winemaker about $1,000. Compare that to Napa, where vineyards can exceed a million dollars per acre, and quality cab fruit can reach upwards of $8,000.) Also, the spirit around Paso is still cooperative: like Steve’s, many “wineries” are actually a stack of barrels in someone else’s new facilities, which they are financing by renting space and machinery to their buddies.

But the most significant and again representative aspect of Kaleidos is the surprising quality of its debut releases, all of which are made from the Rhône varietals syrah, grenache, and mourvedre. In the early nineties, just after the French winery Beaucastel partnered with its American importer to plant 80 acres of Rhone varieties for their new Tablas Creek venture, locals started to notice that Paso’s poor limestone soil and hot, dry climate were perfect for these types of grapes. Whereas historically Paso’s signature grape was zinfandel, more and more viticulturists started turning toward syrah, grenache, mourvedre, and even white Rhône varieties like roussane and marsanne.

The marriage was a fortuitous one. Soon “Rhône Rangers” of all sorts were settling in Paso and making delicious, southern-France-type brews. Kaleidos’s 2005 wines are just about to be released, and since we barrel-tasted all of them to my great satisfaction and since they are of very limited quality, I recommend buying them immediately and directly from the source. Our fave was the Morpheus, a rich, spicy, high-octane blend of granache and mourvedre that stained my teeth for the rest of the day.