If you spend some time in Russian River, don't overlook Occidental, the charming throwback town just a few miles from all that wet moss on gnarled trees that leads to the Pacific. One thing you won't miss is the fog. When it rolls through, your teeth chatter, even on summer days. Afterward, the sky lights up suddenly like a quick change of screen settings. The way the fog travels has always been a mystery. It had always been thought that it moved east and west, but it turns out that's wrong.

On summer days, the heavy fog comes off the ocean through the Petaluma Wind Gap, saturating everything in its path. Then a light mist develops, partially blocking the sun, but still allowing enough sunlight through to assist ripening and keep vineyard workers covered with sunscreen. That pattern explains why almost every highly rated Pinot Noir in this part of the world comes from vineyards that lie on that southwest-northeast axis between this fog-laden area and Healdsburg, at the entrance to the Russian River Valley and the first ridges of the wet moss and the Coastal Range.

We were standing in some pretty special rows, in this unique spot where the Wind Gap provides a direct conduit between the cold Pacific and the Russian River Valley. The berries were tiny, perfect, small, conical clusters, the kind of fruit that Pinot Noir makers dream about. The vineyard had been farmed to perfection by the best grape-growing family this side of the Oakville Grade. There's a reason why most of the Russian River Pinot Noir is simple. The clusters just don't look like these.

Pinot Noir grape clusters

Try pairing this Pinot Noir with seared duck breast, served with a cherry sauce. This wine won't be out of place at your Thanksgiving dinner, either.