When he was growing up in St. Paul, Kent Rosenblum started noticing that one of his senses was particularly well developed. "I could smell things no one else could," he said. "I'd find certain odors in people's houses objectionable. It was always a detriment."
There was no way that Rosenblum could have known that he had a gift, much less where it would take him: to the pinnacle of the wine world. This year, Rosenblum Cellars celebrates its 30th anniversary, and the awards and accolades keep pouring in.
"Rosenblum Cellars is as good as it gets when it comes to zinfandel," according to the current issue of Robert Parker's widely respected magazine, the Wine Advocate.
That's quite the journey from the wintry Sundays when the St. Paul Central High student and his pal, Greg Ryan, accompanied by Hoss the St. Bernard, would snowshoe their way "as far north as we could," deep into the now long-gone forests of Plymouth, to start a fire without matches and cook whole chickens.
A few years later, after detours through Gustavus Adolphus, veterinary school, Milwaukee and Montana, Rosenblum found himself practicing along the mean streets of Alameda, Calif. -- and pursuing a newfound passion.
"We had been doing some home winemaking as a group from Berkeley Ski Club for a number of years and decided to start a winery," he recalled near a crackling fire at the Renaissance Depot Hotel in Minneapolis recently. "We rented a closed-down bar called the Dead End, refurbished it, got it all bonded and realized we were in the middle of a rough neighborhood -- house of ill repute, drug dealers, all that stuff.
"The bottom line was, they thought we were as illegal as they were. Actually, they kind of protected the place."
The rent was $125 a month back in 1978, Rosenblum added, "so we only had to sell a couple of cases of wine to stay in business." Since then, Rosenblum Cellars has released more than 1,000 wines.