I drank this wine and it triggered some thoughts. One, all wine should come with scavenger hunts. Two, steel-aged chardonnays taste like pineapple upside cake. Three, what is the origin story of Sunday Funday??!
Maybe most would assume its a term generated by millennials, AKA the current mascots of bottomless mimosas, and this seems likely. But it's more fun to imagine such a celebratory occasion stemming from something a bit more magical. Perhaps it blossomed in Renaissance days, when people stopped going to church and started spending their Sundays drinking mead, painting murals, and talking about space. Or maybe our Founding Fathers indulged in some Sunday libations, telling their priests and wives they were skipping service to go "work on the Constitution." Regardless, what once used to be the Lord's Day is now dedicated to champagne brunches, boozy picnics on the beach, and dancing on picnic tables. And even though Jesus preferred red wine, I think he'd destroy this white.
Rebel Coast is my celeb crush of wineries. The owner calls himself "The Vino Cowboy" and they brand themselves on Harleys, ghost towns, mustaches, bikinis, tattoos, and cramming the party back into a bottle of wine. The Sunday Funday is the kind of thing you drink in the back of VW bus while camping along the PCH and blasting Johnny Cash. In a game of "fuck, chuck, and marry", I'd be torn over making it my temporary bedfellow or going for the full-blown marry. This wine is fun, flirty, and forever attractive, all while consistently providing reliable flavor. But I'd have competition, of course; Reckless Love has its own Tinder profile.
The "wine ranch" is located in Manhattan Beach, a sprawling Neverland of cowboys and sunshine. I arrived around 2pm on a Friday afternoon, where I was promptly greeted with a bottle of their newest chard and a bottle of the Sunday Funday. We drank in the basement, a wide-open meeting room that was once the biggest swinger's house in California. A fluffy green ornament dangled from the ceiling.
Doug, the Vino Cowboy himself, took me on a tour. He and some of the other Rebel Coast team members all live together in the former-sex house, basking in day-to-day wine glory and constantly living life like Bacchus. There was a room dedicated to games, awards plastered on the wall as if to say, "Yeah, our wine has won all sorts of shit. It's cool." Upstairs there's a buffalo head on the wall and two rattlesnakes chilling in a terrarium.
The Sunday Funday is the kind of wine I could drink out of a smart water bottle in between grocery shopping and a Hawaiian-themed cookout. It's a fruit salad—green apple and sandcastles on the nose, then a juicy party of apricots, peaches, and pineapple, followed by a hint of sour marmalade and the notion that life should be as relished as a hot dog. You drink this bad boy when you're moving out of the friend zone, drunkenly working up the courage to tell Susie you think her hair smells like cookies and then sending a text solely of emojis. It doesn't care about the week's to-do list. It cares about taking off the business suit and trying on some risks.
What I drank: Sunday Funday from Rebel Coat Winery. It's a blend at 90% Chardonnay, 8% sauvignon blanc, and 2% Viognier.
Where it came from: Carneros, CA, a former settlement of Napa County.
Where I drank it: I brought it to my friend Nina's Memorial Day party. We drank it alongside Skinny Pop, Doritos, jello shots, beer, Lay's potato chips, and those freakishly-soft sugar cookies.
What it tasted like: Like a french kiss from a butterfly. It's got that tropical fruit-flavor that comes with steel-fermented chard, but also offers a nice BA-ZING of acid, like one of those sour apple rings. Like being drunk in a candy shop, playing tag on the beach, or eating Trolli Brite Crawlers on a road trip to Myrtle Beach.
When/Where to drink it: A Sunday is ideal, as it's fun to spend max amount of time with this wine. It also comes with a SCAVENGER HUNT, so you'll want it in a time or place where you can let your inner adventurer take of her pants and run wild. A brunch place that allows you BYOB sounds perfect. Also a family reunion. Or a Wednesday afternoon when you and your fellow dayjob-less friends don't have to go to work and the world is your boozed-up oyster. Sunday Funday has no rules. It takes off its clothes and plays naked piñata. It drunk texts without apology. It has fun.