Lightning strikes for Butaud winemaker
In the Hester family, C.L. Butaud was called “Frenchy,” and he happened to be a committed teetotaler. Nonetheless, grandson Randy Hester’s reference-standard Texas winery carries the Butaud name forward today.
Why?
“He inspired me as a man because he was the kind of person I was striving to be,” Hester explained. “He’d help everybody any way he could. He was a lot of fun. He was likable. He worked hard, and he played hard.”
But Hester also notes, laughing, that Frenchy’s wife — or “Granny,” as he calls her — “went through about two bottles of chardonnay a day.” Did he inherit the wine bug from her? Possibly. All he’s certain of is that after a normal upbringing in the Greater Houston/Golden Triangle area, which included being a Willowridge High School classmate of NFL Hall of Famer Thurman Thomas, the bug “bit him bad” after he landed a job in Glazer’s fine-wines division.
Never mind that he had been a psychology major in college, thinking he’d make a career out of helping troubled children. In fact, he did spend four years at a psychiatric hospital for adolescents before “just getting worn down by the system.” Changing his life’s course dramatically, he took job with Outback Steakhouse and then wound up being persuaded by a friend to try selling wine.
After they tasted a wide variety of bottles together, from “grocery-store chiantis” to some super-fancy stuff, Hester’s buddy told him, “Dang, you’ve got a knack for this.”
Indeed. Hester’s next birthday will be his 50th, and he’s at the top of his game, having succeeded splendidly in the cellar in both Northern California and now Texas, sourcing only the best High Plains fruit. His first Butaud Tempranillo — 2014 — was impressive enough to win “Texas Wine of the Year” honors from the state’s Wine & Food Foundation. The 2017 vintage is turning heads as well.
Back in his Glazer’s days, Hester recalled, “I was meeting (winemakers) from all over the world,” and that made him want to be part of their world. At first, he was satisfied “getting good wine to people and making them happy.” Eventually, however, that wasn’t enough because he’d decided “I wanted to be that person who made that thing people want put on their table.”
The urge prompted him, in 2006, to leave Houston for Napa
Valley to learn how the experts did it, although he admits he “felt like a tourist at first.”
By 2011, having apprenticed at a series of “high-end spots” (Cakebread and Colgin, to name-drop two), Hester launched his own brand, Lightning, eventually sourcing from 14 prime Northern California vineyards. Early on, he’d concluded tempranillo and the Mediterranean varietals were the future of Texas wine, not cabernet, merlot, pinot noir and chardonnay.
He always knew that “Texas would call me home.” His wife, Brooke, a Garden City native, Texas A&M University graduate and CPA, wanted to return as badly as he did. In a perfect world, they’d live in Houston. But Fredericksburg is our winetourism epicenter, so they reside in Austin, which simplifies his commuting to both the Hill
Country and to California.
He’s determined to keep the two businesses autonomous, hoping to not confuse the consumers, a good percentage of whom are still trying to figure out this Texas wine thing.
“I went to Napa because I saw Texas’ potential,” Hester said. “The last thing I want to do is come back and then not make wines (from only Texas-grown grapes). Napa cab … Sonoma pinot (noir) ... Texas tempranillo. I’m planting my flag on tempranillo. That’s our grape.”
Nonetheless, he remains fascinated by grenache because of the challenges it presents — “even pinot people will tell you grenache is hard,” he notes — and he thought it had a bright future in Texas if “grower issues” could be fixed.
“Grenache wants to come in at about 3 tons per acre, which is OK for California growers,” he said. “That’s unheard of here. People won’t grow to that low of a level.”
There’s a notable exception, though. Rob Warren, who makes a grenache under the Desert Willow label, has become a muse. Warren, who organically farms cotton around Seminole by day, “understands putting in a little extra effort, the importance of getting it right.
“He’s got beautiful mourvèdre, too. I’m going to try to get all the fruit I can from him. His grenache is just delicious. Grenache will work in Texas.”
There are many expressions of grenache, of course. Hester was asked to explain his. “When I was trying to figure out my grenache style,” industry savant Mike Hirby offered a suggestion, saying, “‘Hey, man, make the wine you like and then find people who want to drink it with you.’ That’s the single greatest one sentence of advice I’ve ever received.”
Hester’s 2015 California grenache can be had from the Lightning website (lightningwines.com/store) for $32. He’s also offers a Provençalesque rosé for $20. Alas, his white Rhone blend and a grenache-centric red are currently sold out, and the single-vineyard Shake Ridge Grenache and the Fore Family Syrah are exclusive to Lightning’s Grenache Society members.
Hester’s Butaud wines are sporadically found in Houston restaurants and retail outlets — The Heights Grocer, Houston Wine Merchant and Central Market have carried them — but are primarily available through the wine club. Remember, it’s a small-production operation … for the moment, anyway.