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WHAT IS A HONYOCKER
I get asked about this wine more than any other we make.
Not because of what's in the bottle.
Because of the one word on the back.
HONYOCKER
(hon·yock·er) noun (no known definiton)
In the Saarloos family, Honyocker isn't a noun.
It's a compliment.
Some words are too busy being lived to wait around for a definition.
For years I thought Honyocker was a real word everyone used. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized almost nobody had ever heard it before. That's when I started asking where it came from. The answers were interesting... but they never felt quite right. Because the Honyockers I knew weren't described by a dictionary.
They were my family.
My grandmother was the first person I ever heard say the word.
She'd shake her head, smile, and call us "little Honyockers."
Looking back...
I don't think she was describing what we'd done.
I think she was describing who we were becoming
The Story of the Fastest
-Selling Wine We Ever Made
Funny enough, this wine turned out to be just as much of a Honyocker as the people it was named after.
Most wines begin with a Plan.
This one began with an argument.
Every harvest asks something different of a farmer. The vineyard never reads your plans from the year before, and it certainly doesn't care what you hoped would happen. It ripens when it's ready, gives what it's willing to give, and reminds you every season that nature has never been interested in following your schedule.
One year we found ourselves standing in front of three beautiful grapes that didn't seem to belong anywhere.
Grenache Blanc.
Syrah.
Mourvèdre.
Every textbook would've kept them apart. Every winemaker would've filed them neatly into their proper places.
My dad had another idea.
He couldn't stomach leaving them behind.
He looked at me and said, "You better take these."
I looked back and said, "No."
He looked at me again.
"That wasn't a question."
I tried one last time.
"Fine... but I'm not paying you for them."
Without missing a beat he smiled and said,
"Pay me when you sell it."
So...
We picked them.
We crushed them together.
We fermented them together.
We made a field blend because, quite honestly, we didn't know what else to do.
And this absolutely kills me to admit...
The old man was right.
Not just a little right.
Really right.
The wine was incredible.
Not interesting.
Not "better than expected."
Incredible.
It became the fastest-selling wine we had ever made.
For years after that, my dad walked around with the kind of grin only fathers earn when they know they were right and their son has to admit it.
Every chance he got he'd remind me.
"This wine doesn't exist anywhere else in the world."
It was a bold claim.
As far as we've ever been able to tell...
...it was also completely true.
That's the funny thing about farming.
You can spend your whole life trying to control nature, only to discover your best ideas came from listening instead.
I've always believed the greatest wines don't come from proving how smart the winemaker is. They come from paying attention. The vineyard usually knows what it's wants to become. The hardest part is having enough humility to stop arguing long enough to hear it.
Maybe that's why Honyocker has never fit neatly into a category.
It exists because a farmer looked at three beautiful grapes and simply refused to waste them.
And maybe that's the most Honyocker thing of all.
The photograph on this label belongs to my grandfather's Jeep.
The old California license plate still reads GIL 250.
Strapped to the back is a homemade go-kart, headed toward absolutely nothing important... except another memory.
Every time I look at that photograph, I don't just see an old Jeep.
I see three generations of men who believed life was meant to be lived with dirty hands, open roads, and just enough curiosity to ask...
"What happens if we try this?"
Sometimes the answer is a homemade go-kart.
Sometimes it's the fastest-selling wine you've ever made.
Either way...
That's Honyocker.
The dictionary doesn't really have a definition for Honyocker.
Burnouts in a new Car - Honyocker
Hitting each other with baseball bats wrapped with pillows wearing life jackets. - Yep.
Using Trashcan lids as shields while you shoot each other with BB Guns. - Yep
Fire extinguishers turned into water guns. - Yep
Waterballon Fights that break the Windshields. - Sure.
It is all - Black Eyes and Broken Arms.
Best I can tell, it was an old word used throughout the American West to describe homesteaders, immigrants, stubborn farmers, and people who didn't quite fit in. Depending on who was saying it, it wasn't always meant as a compliment.
Our family decided it deserved a better ending.
In our family, Honyocker means something entirely different.
A Honyocker is someone who refuses to let growing up get in the way of living.
Someone who works hard, laughs often, gets dirty on purpose, and believes the best stories usually begin with someone saying, "Let's go."
Since there isn't a real definition... Lets Own it Ourselves.
Let me give it a shot.
A Honyocker is the kind of person who knows that life was never supposed to stay clean.
They understand that dirt under your fingernails usually means you built something. Grease on your shirt means you fixed something. Sunburn means you stayed outside longer than you planned. And a worn-out pair of boots is just another way of saying, "I showed up."
A Honyocker isn't afraid of hard work. In fact, they expect it. They know fences don't mend themselves, vineyards don't farm themselves, cattle don't feed themselves, and families don't build themselves. None of the things worth having ever seem to happen by accident.
They don't waste much, not a board. Not a bolt. Not a Saturday. Not a sunset.
Not an opportunity to throw the kids in the truck and see what happens next.
They know that the best toys aren't bought. -They're built.
The best stories aren't planned. - They just happen.
Usually after someone says, "I've got an idea..."
I get asked about this wine more than any other we make.
Not because of what's inside the bottle.
Because of the one word on the front.
Most of our wines introduce themselves before you ever pull the cork. MOM. DAD. COURAGE. MISCHIEF. MAYHEM. You don't need much explanation. The names tell you where they came from, and if you stay long enough, they'll usually tell you why.
But then there's Honyocker.
It's an odd word.
One that seems to get stuck somewhere in the back of your mind. You say it once just to hear it out loud. Then you find yourself saying it again. Before long, you're standing in the tasting room with a smile on your face asking, "Alright... what in the world is a Honyocker?"
It's a fair question.
Truth is, I've been asking it myself for most of my life.
The dictionary isn't much help. The best history I can find says it was an old word scattered across the American West, used for homesteaders, immigrants, stubborn farmers, and people who didn't quite fit where they were supposed to. Sometimes it was spoken with respect. Sometimes it wasn't. Like so many old words, its meaning changed depending on who was doing the talking.
But words have a funny way of finding new homes.
Some are inherited.
Some are forgotten.
And every once in a while, a family adopts one, lives it so completely that the old meaning quietly fades away.
That's what happened to Honyocker.
By the time it reached our family, it had stopped being a label and become a way of looking at the world. My grandmother didn't use it to describe outsiders. She used it to describe us. Usually after one of us had come home filthy, smiling, and carrying the unmistakable look of someone who had just spent an entire day squeezing every last drop out of life.
Some families pass down heirlooms.
Some pass down recipes.
Ours passed down a word.
And somewhere along the way, we gave it a new definition.
Because in the Saarloos family, a Honyocker isn't someone you are.
It's someone you choose to become.
A SHORT LIST OF TRUE HONYOCKER STORIES
Taking Dad's hot rod "just to wash it," running out of gas, burning your feet pushing it home, and still showing up for Hell Week the next morning because... there was a girl involved. Honyocker.
Getting a parole officer for "possession and detonation of Explosives" Overachiever Honyocker.
Parents buying you boxing gloves for your birthday. Family Values Honyocker.
Dad refereeing the fight instead of stopping it. Leadership Honyocker.
Singing with the choir... while not actually being in the choir. Confident Honyocker.
Getting strip-searched at graduation... because they knew you. Known Honyocker.
Being banned from saying, "I've got an idea." Lifetime Honyocker.
Finding an abandoned refrigerator and immediately saying, "I've got an idea." Honyocker.
Driving to Mexico at fifteen because your brand-new friend had his grandfather's car and it seemed like a good idea. International Honyocker.
Hearing Dad laugh before asking if everyone was okay. Original Honyocker.
Turning Roman candle fights into a competitive sport. Peak Honyocker.
Making a flamethrower because YouTube didn't exist to tell you not to. Vintage Honyocker.
Building a go-kart with brakes listed as "optional." Engineering Honyocker.
Finding out why brakes aren't optional. Physics Honyocker.
Turning irrigation pipe into bazookas. Agricultural Honyocker.
Turning the vineyard into Daytona. Estate-Grown Honyocker.
Driving a moving truck on real roads when you were thirteen while your dad drove in front. Different Times Honyocker.
Jumping off the roof... over the fence... Into a pool from a trampoline. Honyocker.
Seeing if your brother could jump over you on his bike. He couldn't. Definitely Honyocker.
Breaking an arm on a dare. Honyocker.
Burnouts before the new-car smell wore off. Honyocker.
Breaking three lawn chairs in one afternoon. Honyocker.
Driving through the mud because, "It doesn't look that deep." It was. Farmer Honyocker.
Thinking every piece of plywood secretly wanted to become a ramp. Honyocker.
Finding out it wasn't. Still Honyocker.
Walking home soaking wet three miles from the beach because your ride left. Honyocker.
Fishing all night, breaking down on the way home, missing a college final... and still calling it one of the greatest nights of your life. Honyocker.
Getting a BB lodged in your butt... then lying to your mom about it. Honyocker.
Building a jump that looked "safe enough" from twenty feet away. Honyocker.
Lighting one firework with another firework because it saved time. Honyocker.
Turning bottle rockets into neighborhood diplomacy. Honyocker.
Rattlesnakes at a kid's birthday party. Honyocker.
Using baling wire to fix something permanently. Farmer Honyocker.
Using duct tape because the baling wire didn't work. Professional Honyocker.
Getting poison oak where poison oak should never be. Honyocker.
Having stitches become part of your summer wardrobe. Honyocker.
Getting yelled at by your mom before she even knew what happened. Honyocker.
Mom saying, "Take it outside," instead of, "Don't do it." Honyocker.
Building your own toys because the store didn't sell anything nearly as fun. Honyocker.
Coming home dirty enough that your mom made you strip down in the garage. Honyocker.
Learning that "Watch this!" were the two most dangerous words in the English language. Honyocker.
Owning one good pair of jeans... and ruining them before lunch. Honyocker.
Thinking every old truck deserved one more chance. Honyocker.
Fixing something that everyone else would've thrown away. Honyocker.
Measuring wealth in stories instead of stuff. That's a Honyocker.
Refusing to let growing up get in the way of living. That's the definition of a Honyocker.
Driving an old Jeep with a homemade go-kart tied to the back because the destination was never the point... Honyocker.
