Though harvest was under way, Lou Preston wasn't in the cellar fermenting grape juice. Nor was he in the kitchen kneading dough and baking bread. He certainly wasn't in the tasting room of his winery, Preston of Dry Creek.

Wherever he was and whatever he was doing wasn't going to be interrupted by his protective and evasive staff.

I took a walk. I ambled about the picnic grounds, pausing to pet one of the many resident cats. I stepped into a former storage room converted into a farm stand, where a sign informs visitors that service is strictly self-help – "weigh and pay."

Everything in the diverse selection has been grown on the grounds of Preston of Dry Creek: grass-raised eggs, heirloom tomatoes, killarney red garlic, organic hot peppers, zucchini, apples, olives, red wheat, nettles, freshly pressed apple juice.

Lou Preston's big gamble looks to have played out quite well. When I last visited Preston and his artist wife, Susan, a decade ago, they were a little more than a year into a business decision virtually unheard of in the California wine trade.

Since they'd started to plant grapes in 1973 and founded their winery in 1975, they'd built Preston of Dry Creek into a highly regarded and fast-growing operation. Production was up to 25,000 cases a year, in some vintages 30,000. Life was good, but it wasn't necessarily satisfying their individualistic and artistic temperaments.

The demands of a thriving business were pulling them away from the hands- on farming they first envisioned as grape growers and winemakers. Like other winemakers, Lou Preston was on the road often, developing markets along the East Coast and in the Midwest.

More and more he was feeling that he was compromising his winemaking style to accommodate broad consumer tastes rather than to show off the distinctive nature of grapes grown in northern Sonoma County's Dry Creek Valley.

The Prestons didn't exactly stop the merry-go-round, but they slowed it down enough to jump off so he could spend more time digging in the dirt and refining his winemaking while she could spend more time painting. In short, they slashed annual output to 8,000 cases and began to expand their cultivation of crops other than grapes.

Wine still is the farm's principal product, but visitors who thought they'd just be picking up a bottle of sauvignon blanc now also are apt to be putting in the trunk of their car a loaf of hot bread, a bottle of olive oil, a packet of rye and a bushel or so of potatoes, onions, walnuts and carrots.

Where is Lou Preston, anyway? I continued to stroll about the grounds, past the stack of oak used to fire the oven he built for baking bread and pizza, past the bocce court and the chicken coop and the shiny new apple press.

When I saw a figure on the edge of a distant garden tilling a bed of dark, deep soil, I suspected it was Lou Preston. If not, it was someone else out of a Grant Wood interpretation of life on a Midwestern farm circa 1920.

But it was Preston, his beard whiter and bushier than ever, his gaze fixed on what looked to be an antique high-wheel cultivator as he pushed it carefully across the fine dirt. Actually, the cultivator was relatively new.

"It's amazing what you can get on the Internet," said Preston. "They make them today for back-to-the-landers, which is what I guess we are."

When I remarked that the new lifestyle he and his wife defined for themselves looks to be successful, he reminded me that with farming success or failure can vary from year to year and even season to season. Spring rains essentially wiped out this year's olive crop, for one, and reduced his yield of sauvignon blanc by half, his zinfandel by a third.

As we ambled back toward the tasting room, I asked him what he considered his signature wine these days. His answer surprised me. He said it's the L. Preston, the proprietary name for an earthy blend of black grapes long associated with France's Rhône Valley, in particular syrah, cinsault and mourvèdre.

I'd expected him to say sauvignon blanc, the 2010 vintage of which is layered with more complexity than is generally found in the varietal (grass, smoke, grapefruit, melon), or maybe the syrah-sirah, the 2009 version of which, a blend of 88 percent syrah and 12 percent petite sirah, is strapping and forward, but also polished and graceful, with an almost tingling spiciness.

But I was really hoping he'd say zinfandel. He didn't, but his respect for zinfandel has deepened over the years. Zinfandel is Dry Creek Valley's signature grape and wine, and for nearly 40 years, Preston has been learning just how difficult it can be to seize in harmony both the ripe fruit flavors and the finesse that the grape is capable of yielding.

He and his winemaker, Matt Norelli, precisely struck that balance with the Preston of Dry Creek 2009 Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel. It's at once both a traditional Dry Creek Valley zinfandel – 13 percent petite sirah was added to bring in a bit more color, spine and spice – and a modern interpretation, given that its bright raspberry and blackberry flavors run more to morning sunshine than afternoon. From the clarity of its color to the spiciness in its finish, this is one stunning zinfandel.

"We always try to strike that balance between ripeness and finesse, but zinfandel doesn't always cooperate. You don't get flavor until the grapes are ripe, but the downside of that is that you also can get (high) alcohol," Preston said.

In 2009, however, they must have been in the vineyard at the perfect time, snatching grapes just when the resulting wine would announce zinfandel in full voice but without much heat from alcohol.

2009 Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel

By the numbers: 14.4 percent alcohol, 1,149 cases, $36

Context: Susan Preston, the lead cook in the family, recommends that this zin be paired with roast chicken swaddled with a thin wrap of pancetta and stuffed with a handful of Turkish bay leaves and a few slices of lemon. Also splendid with the wine would be fava-bean bruschetta with a slice of ricotta salata cheese. And given this zinfandel's authority, it also would be the perfect wine to accompany the richly varied foods of the Thanksgiving table.

Availability: The wine is stocked by Corti Brothers and the Sacramento and Roseville branches of Whole Foods Market. It and other Preston wines also can be ordered through the winery's website, www.prestonvineyards.com.

More information: The tasting room at Preston of Dry Creek, 9282 West Dry Creek Road, Healdsburg, is open 11 a.m.-4:30 p.m. daily.

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Longtime wine critic and competition judge Mike Dunne continues his relationship with The Bee as a contributing columnist to the Food & Wine section. His wine selections are based solely on tastings, judging at competitions, and visits to wine regions. Check out his blog at www.ayearinwine.com, and reach him at mikedunne@winegigs.com.

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