I walked into the tasting with a light heart and a sober palate. The tasting was held at a posh downtown steakhouse called Greystone, and I was going to meet Chef Kenny. There was a rumor that the mysterious and mystic Mr. Vino would possibly make an appearance.

It was late afternoon, and the tasting was crammed into an upstairs loft like an overstuffed mailbox – too many laughing heads, dancing legs and clinking wine glasses.

I was greeted by the bearded, bowtied and jovial host, who was wearing a custom-tailored gray suit and who cracked a smile like an egg. I was glad that his mammoth-sized right hand gave me a painless handshake.

I dodged my way past the dozens of purple-lipped wine folk to the back table where the bread, cheese, fruit and meat plates were located. As I was gathering brie and sliced sourdough bread, readying myself to try some chardonnays, I was nudged by Mr. Chisel Chin – the handsome king of culinary charisma, Chef Kenny himself.

He greeted me with his typical, “Hi, wine dude.” He was wearing a skull-white chef coat embroidered with “Chef Kenny, Chez Suave.” He had just finished taping a segment of his very popular television show, “Kenny’s Kitchen,” and was ready to try some wine.

The tasting featured the famous Napa producer Far Niente, which means “without a care” in Italian. The winery was founded in 1885 and was in production until the idiocy of Prohibition in 1919. This historic winery fell into disrepair until it was purchased by Gil Nickel in 1979 and restored. The restored winery produced its first vintage in 1982. After the success of the winery, the partners of Far Niente started the winery Nickel & Nickel in 1997.

Chef Kenny and I made our way to the first table together. The famous chef waived his arm and the beautiful wine people moved out of the way like Moses parting the Red Sea. At the table, which featured the wines of Nickel & Nickel, we were greeted by a thin-haired, nervous man with too-thick eyeglasses. He said with a Texas two-step drawl: “Nickel & Nickel is devoted exclusively to producing 100-percent varietal, single-vineyard wines that best express the distinct personality of each vineyard.”

He poured me a small amount of the 2004 Searby Vineyard, Russian River Valley, Sonoma Chardonnay and, of course, poured Chef Kenny twice the amount. As we examined the color of the wine against the stark-white tablecloth, I was struck by the wine’s golden hue.

“I’m always delighted with the color of a beautiful chardonnay,” Chef Kenny said. “It’s like a goblet of spring sunshine.”

“The nose is like when you first step into a flower shop; sweet, lovely perfume,” I responded. Chef Kenny nodded his head in agreement as he took his first sip.

He swirled the wine in his mouth, swallowed and smiled. “Sweet, delicious peach and passion fruit that waltzes to a dry, friendly finish,” he said. “It would be marvelous with seared ahi.”

It’s great with brie cheese,” I added, popping a piece of cheese in my mouth. “The wine really benefits from being grown in the Russian River Valley. Chardonnay loves the cool, rushing river and coastal fog because it slowly ripens the grapes. The microclimate creates beautiful wine.”

We next dove into the 2004 Truchard Vineyard Chardonnay, which was another fine example of the Carneros style. It had a classic mouth feel with tropical fruits, lush pineapple and orange peel, and underlining tones of toasted oak vanilla.

We avoided the Nickel & Nickel red wines for the moment and went over to try the 2004 Far Niente Chardonnay at the next table. The Far Niente table was manned by an ox of a man, his body bursting out of his too-tight, tan business suit. He smiled, his purple-stained teeth a smoke signal that he loved syrah and cabernet.

He poured Far Niente Chardonnay for both of us. The wine had a darker golden hue than the Nickel & Nickel chardonnays. “This is a big wine, with loads of tropical fruit, a higher alcohol content and a lot of new French oak,” Chef Kenny said after taking his first sip.

“Yes, Kenny, this is a Godzilla wine, with a monster mouth feel, but it has some delicacy,” I said. “The nose gives hints of a burgundy, like a Puligny-Montrachet, and some burnt caramel in the mid-palate, but the alcohol speaks of Napa Valley. I like this wine, but I love burgundy.”

I then saw over my shoulder that the short and handsome Mr. Vino had entered the tasting.