Chef Kenny and I left the small room full of wine and went into a giant room full of even more wine. Everyone was smiling and hob-knobbing around – most anyone who was anyone in the wine industry was there, from the barrio liquor store owner to the celebrated chef of the most pretentious fine-dining establishment.

People were buzzing around the appetizers like honey bees around a bed of daffodils. We filled our plates and went back to the hard job of wine tasting. The dogs were barking everywhere – there seemed to a hundred tables, each with a smiling and anxious wine rep wanting you to take a few of his or her puppies home that night.

We spotted Felicity, who was now pouring at the Tobin James wine table, where there were more than a half dozen wine bottles on the table. I was familiar with Tobin James and I thought the wines were not only good but also a good value.

The first wine we tried was the Tobin James Sundance Sauvignon Blanc. The wine had nice crisp notes to it, plenty of grapefruit and a slight apricot nuance.

Chef Kenny gave a show-stopping grin and said: “I like the nose of this SB. It has nice hints of kiwi fruit.”

Felicity gleefully poured us the Rock–N-Roll Syrah. It had a rich, deep purple color, which was beautiful. The entire Paso Robles area produces the finest syrah in California. They have greater body than some of the syrah grown in Napa and Sonoma, which, being very light, seem very beaujolais-like.

Chef Kenny said it best: “This wine simply rocks. It makes me want to get my Fender electric guitar out of the closet and play some old Rolling Stones tunes. It has a wild and spicy finish.”

“Much like a petite sirah,” I added.

Felicity kept pouring the good vino. The next wine was the James Gang Reserve Zinfandel. It was a big and spicy monster, and very juicy. I was going to tell Felicity about how wonderful the wine was when I saw that Chef Kenny was making a quick exit toward Paul’s table.

I gave Felicity a little bow and said thank you, then joined Chef Kenny. I could tell from the glass and Chef Kenny’s grin that he was drinking a giant cabernet sauvignon.

Paul shook my hand and thanked me for coming back. I rinsed my glass with water, and Paul poured me a large glass of cabernet.

“Guess where this is from, pal?” he asked.

I looked at the glass, which had that dead-on cabernet sauvignon color – a little brighter than, say, Bordeaux. The nose screamed Napa Valley.

I was familiar with the wine because Felicity had shown it to me last week, but I decided to play a little with Chef Kenny. “The wine has beautiful black currant, plum, raspberry and dark chocolate, and I would say it spends a little less than two years in French oak – I think about 22 months,” I said, staring at Chef Kenny and not blinking an eye. “This is a cabernet sauvignon and 100 percent of the varietal.”

Chef Kenny and Paul both nodded their heads yes.

“It comes from around the Stags Leap area and from an 18-acre plot,” I said.

Both Chef Kenny and Paul’s eyes widened to the size of headlights.

All eyes were on me with continued amazement. I enjoyed every second of it and continued: “It is obvious to me that this cabernet was produced in small lots, and in this vintage – the 2002, I think – they produced about 800 cases.”

Chef Kenny’s mouth dropped, and then I declared with a flourish: “This wine is made by the talented Pam Starr and is the Ristow Estate Cabernet Sauvignon produced in the Quinta de Pedras vineyard. Quinta de pedras means ‘place of stones’ in Portuguese.”

Both Paul and Chef Kenny were pale, and I burst into laughter – as did Felicity, who had already been observing my fun.

For my charade, Chef Kenny slugged me in the shoulder and Paul wouldn’t let me try the 2001 Joseph Swan Zeigler Vineyard Zinfandel for almost five minutes, at which point I was almost on my knees begging for forgiveness. The zin was wonderful.