2022 DAD – Mourvèdre

"Some things aren’t made. They’re earned."

Estate Grown | El Camino Real Vineyard | Santa Ynez Valley
Limited Release

The Story

There are wines named for places.
There are wines named for moments.
And then there are wines named for the kind of man you spend the rest of your life trying to live up to.

1825 days since Dad said goodbye. 1825 sunrises. 1825 sunsets. Each one a mark on the wall. Carved into the paint. Days that didn’t ask permission. They just came. Relentlessly. His last words to me and my brother: “Don’t be selfish.” So we weren’t. We kept the pedal down. No brakes. No excuses. Just go. In that time— My daughter got behind the wheel and drove to Texas like she had fire in her chest and a dream between her teeth. My son stood taller than me, but still hugs me like he’s six. I dropped 80 pounds of pain—and still carry the rest in my chest. My brother became the head coach of TCU Baseball. Just like the old man prayed for. We went to Omaha. We all made noise. If one of us is in the fight, we all are. Brady became the first Saarloos to dunk a basketball—and he’s a fine young man. Emery stops time with her smile. Lane’s got a catchphrase, her own merch, and wins at cards—every time. The women who married my brother and me? Still too good for us. Still here. Still loving us like it’s easy— when we know it’s anything but. And Mom? She keeps rising. With a hole in her heart that somehow heals everyone else’s. 1825 days of bare-knuckle living. No bell. No towel. Just rounds. You fall. You get up. Repeat. 1825 chances to get it right. To fall short. To stand back up. To swing your way through. Post-traumatic ascension. That’s what I call it. And if he ever called you on a hard day, you know how he’d end the call: “From what I understand, the sun’s gonna come up tomorrow.” It has. 1825 times. That was him— Beating back the dark with one sentence. When you lose someone like that, you want to drop the grief. Let it rot. But you don’t. Because you can’t. It’s all that’s left of them. The pain doesn’t get lighter. You just get stronger. There hasn’t been one day I haven’t missed that old bull. To get him out of me, you’d have to drain every last drop. I hope you’d be proud of what we’ve become. We live in order to: Honor those that have come before us And prepare the way for those yet to come. 1825 sunrises. And from what I understand— Tomorrow will be 1826. I’ll be ready. LFG.

This is that wine.
This is DAD.

Handpicked by our family in 2022.
Bottled in 2024.
Aged in oak and time and intention.
Meant to sit on your table like he used to sit at the head of it—quiet, steady, knowing.

We made this wine to honor Larry Saarloos—husband, father, grandfather, farmer, bull, and legend.
And by pouring a glass, you’re stepping into that circle.

We made this Mourvèdre the way he lived:
No shortcuts. No fluff. No half measures.

Tasting Notes

Aromas of smoked cherry, dusty plum, and sun-dried herbs.
Hints of black pepper, cured meat, and worn leather.
The kind of wine that feels like a firm handshake.
Bold, balanced, and built to last.

This isn’t a fruit bomb or a featherweight—it’s real.
Structured but not stiff. Powerful but graceful.
It finishes long, like a good story told slowly.

Drink Now or Hold Until the Grandkids Graduate

This wine will age for decades.
2024–2052 is no exaggeration.
You can open it now and get wisdom, or wait and get a deeper truth.

Lay down a bottle for every child, every memory, every mile walked.
This is cellar wine with a soul.

Pair It With:

• Ribeye. Bone-in. Salt and fire.

• A porch at sunset.

• A hard conversation that ends in a hug.

• A record spinning. Merle or Springsteen.

• Father’s Day, every year from now on.

Why This Bottle Matters

Because it’s not just about wine.
It’s about the people who came before you.
It’s about remembering to remember.
It’s about telling your kids, “This bottle? This one was made for your Grandpa. Let me tell you why.”

It’s not just a purchase.
It’s a tribute.
It’s a seat at the table for the man who built it.

325 CASES MADE

When it’s gone, it’s gone.

Each label features a photo of Larry taken in front of the Mission in Los Olivos.
A cowboy hat. A half-smile.
That’s the vibe.
That’s the man.
That’s the bottle.

The Toast

“We live to honor those who came before us,
and to prepare the way for those yet to come.”

That’s the mission.
And this bottle is your invitation to join it.