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Winemaker Magazine Leaves Precious Memories

© Christina Kelly

The late Romeo Conca, the winemaker, knew how to throw an impromptu party that could make the Gods shiver with envy of his fine wines.

Creator of the Lost Mountain Winery in Sequim, Wash., Romeo could take a dozen eggs and make the most elegant frittata for guests who happened to show up at the out-of-the-way winery in the foothills of the Olympic Mountains.

Memories of a few of those evenings are etched in my mind forever. His crop of white hair, large oval glasses, flushed face and hearty laughter was usually at the center of such gatherings. I always think of him as the embodiment of hospitality to those who knew him or somehow passed through his life.

Romeo was king of his castle and held court in his home and winery for those who stopped to lend a hand at the small-production facility. His family, sons Steve and Dave, his second wife Jo Davies, and a plethora of friends, would gather at the winery during crush or bottling, adding a couple of extra hands in the process. Those who helped were amply rewarded with great company and meals to die for.

Steve Conca recalls that his father loved good food, good wine and good friends. It was a magical combination and attracted some of the most interesting people to his table.

"Everyone enjoyed Romeo's company and thought he was a kind and generous host," Steve recalled. "elegant frittata and entire evenings were spent around the dining room table. Almost everyone that met Romeo was charmed by his warmth and graciousness."

I remember one early evening when Romeo was in the kitchen, making some labor-intensive meal from scratch, drawing people inside the house with the pungent smells of herbs, fresh garlic and basil. The kitchen was his element, inheriting it naturally from his father Matteo, one of the country's best chefs.

Romeo asked me to open a bottle of his Lost Mountain "Pipa's Blend," named for his father, whom he called Pipa. The table was set for 12, and some of the other guests brought their own wine, already sitting on the dinning room table.

"How is it that you can take some of the most simple ingredients and turn out something like that?" I asked, pointing to his frittata, trying not to show how hungry I was.

The sight and smell of Romeo's cooking made me dizzy with anticipation.

"It's very simple," said Romeo. "You don't have to have fancy food. But you do need fresh ingredients.

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