In Missouri, a Motor Tour of Small Towns, Country Inns--and Wineries : Two regions not far from St. Louis star in a wine-tasting trip to rival the Napa Valley.

AUGUSTA, Mo. — Just a flick of the fingernail on the power-window toggle switch and the air-conditioned cabin of the car is flooded with sweltering wind.

The summer-sweet fragrance of bubbling asphalt beneath speeding tires blends with the honeyed breath of hay pillows and a spice of fresh-mown alfalfa, sweating pin oaks and something decidedly overripe--the rich alluvial soil squandered by the muddy Missouri River as it meanders toward its marriage with the Mississippi at St. Louis. This bountiful valley, where corn is king and soy beans reign supreme, harbors a delicious (and quite continental) secret: vineyards--and fine wines. And with them, culinary delights, charming respites and romantic hideaways.

These facts are not exactly state secrets, but they haven’t spread much beyond the Rockies or the Appalachians. So most people are surprised to hear that anyone visiting the eight heartland states bordering Missouri is within striking distance of a quixotic motor tour peppered with eye-popping scenery and gustatory thrills. For a Californian nursed on Napa Valley wines, it’s truly a foray into Another Country and one must view it as such. But once hidebound notions of what’s good and what’s right in wine are put aside, there are pleasant surprises in store.

There, just up ahead off State Route B, is a signpost planted in hip-high corn: Bias Winery. We turn onto the gravel roadbed, up and over the old Missouri-Pacific Railroad tracks, through oak groves motionless in the late-morning heat, and around a bend to a small parking lot and what appears to be a long farm building.

As we approach the door to the blissfully air-conditioned tasting room, we see battalions of vines banding the contoured rolling hills that surround the winery. Jim Bias, a former airline pilot who first dipped his toe into the wine biz in 1980, greets our little party as though we were next-door neighbors. This is typical behavior at many of the boutique wineries. The owners seem grateful for an excuse to drop their chores and “visit a spell.” Jim wants to show off his just-completed meeting hall where he hopes to host festive dinners. He urges us to stroll out through the vineyards and picnic down by the pond, where somnolent ducks cool their heels near the shaded shore.

Bias is one of about a dozen wineries in the Augusta-Hermann area of Missouri, east and slightly south of St. Louis, sprinkled on either side of Route 94, the blacktop that snakes alongside the river and is part of the Lewis and Clark Trail. This territory is sometimes called Missouri Rhineland because of its strong German heritage. And the winemaking still reflects traditional Germanic tastes with sweet heavy wines more prominent than the crisp dry varieties favored elsewhere today.

A second concentration of wineries is located 70-plus miles farther south and west (a fast shot from St. Louis via Interstate 44). This area, around St. James, is called the Ozark Highlands. It’s a long crescent prairie plateau that juts out of the Ozark Mountains above the early frost line, a particular geographic feature almost exactly 1,000 feet above sea level. And here the influence is predominantly Italian.

Though both areas are within the same state, they are quite different, with eccentricities and characters all their own.

Near St. Louis, a major Midwestern air hub served by most carriers, is the cute and curious hamlet of Augusta (Pop. 350), home of at least one full-fledged vineyard/winery and a number of tasting rooms. Augusta is a village in the throes of transformation from a sleepy farm town to a picturesque tourist attraction. Where tractors once steamed supreme, now gaggles of cyclists in Speedo riding gear and neon helmets quaff Evian between sprints to the tasting bars.

Although a real country store remains in operation, other shops include a fudge factory, boutique bakery, cheesery (“home of Augusta pate”), wood shop (upholstered rockers and dulcimers), pottery palace, assorted galleries, antique collections, cafes and taverns. Tips ‘N Trix declares: “Quilts and whirligigs are our specialty.”

One 19th-Century cottage has been turned into a notions store called the Muddobbers’ Nest. (Muddaubers are a variety of ill-tempered wasps found throughout the state but none, thankfully, is in evidence in the immediate vicinity. Misspelling is a charming idiosyncrasy in these parts, although it wears thin.)

Inside the shop are lots of loving-hands-at-home items: potpourris, stitched dolls and dried flower wreaths along with candies, flavored coffees and homemade pastas. All carry New York prices.

Still, a stroll down the side streets yields the town’s true flavor: Sun tea brewing on open porches, groomed lawns, laundry rustling in every errant breeze, tricycles on front walkways and a dearth of motor traffic that salves the spirit of the city dweller.

One of the most beautiful spots in all of Missouri wine country is here--the shaded terrace of the Mount Pleasant Winery, a couple of blocks from downtown Augusta. Beneath giant silver maple, walnut, Chinese elm and cedar trees are white tables necklaced by white chairs.

Vineyards cascade down the hillside to the south until they reach the river-bottom level. From there, emerald fields of soybeans and corn stretch seemingly forever. A distant line of trees marks the current course of the Missouri River and beyond it, the bleached limestone of the southerly bluffs. Cool and blessed by breezes even on the most infernal days, this grassy veranda was made for sipping chilled wines and grazing on bits of native cheeses and sausages--wide selections of which are available in the winery’s shop, located in an impossibly pink and cute converted farm house.

Mount Pleasant is the state’s second-largest winery and offers informative guided tours of its cellars, which, 16 feet underground, remain between 45 and 65 degrees Fahrenheit year-round. There, aging in white oak, cypress or stainless steel--depending upon the grape--are wines that will make up the 50,000 gallons released annually. Upstairs is the airy tasting room, with plaques certifying that Mount Pleasant’s port has won medals in international competitions.

More and more Missouri wines are shouldering their way into winners’ circles, accomplishments of note for many reasons--not the least of which is that Missouri wines are fermented from varieties of grapes unknown to Dionysus, let alone the habitues of Napa Valley wineries: Seyval, Chaunac, Vignoles, Chambourcin, Villard, Chancellor, Cynthiana et al.

California connoisseurs of wine, on the other hand, have educated their palates on Chardonnays, Sauvignons, Merlots, Cabernets, Pinot Noirs and Zinfandels--vinifera grapes that produce rich and complex wines. Missouri’s climate is too harsh for these delicate fruits. It is inevitable that the snob factor will raise its ugly nose in any such face-off: the rich, self-serving and effete versus the hearty, strong and hard-working. For fine California wines, one hears adjectives such as “nutty, buttery, spicy,” but Missouri wines tend to elicit descriptions such as “earthy, grassy, foxy, pungent.” On my tasting adventures in Missouri, I encountered some wines that were so terrible they would be arrested at the California border. I also enjoyed some delicious, novel and richly satisfying wines that surprised and delighted my jaded California taste buds. Most wines are inexpensive to moderately priced--$4-$8 a bottle.

From Augusta, one may tipple one’s way down Route 94 to Hermann, which is about halfway from St. Louis to the state capital, Jefferson City. Blumenhof Winery is but a hop, skip and a knackwurst outside Augusta in tiny Dutzow and is worth a stop just to see its mock Old World building decked out with flower boxes choked with geraniums. It’s also handy if you’ve run short on Pennsylvania Dutch hex signs, a plethora of which are inexplicably for sale on the premises.

Some of Blumenhof’s vintages are ringing international notes. In April, its 1991 Seyval Blanc was named runner-up in the white wine category of the National Orange Show Wine Competition in San Bernardino.

It’s in the town of Hermann, however, that the past and future of Missouri Rhineland is most evident. This mini-city (Pop. 2,700), settled by hearty German stock and solidly built in the mid-19th Century of red brick and righteousness, would be rabid in its eagerness to charm were it not for its languid pace and its almost Southern courtliness. In the past 20 or so years it has been scrubbed and sandblasted and its historic buildings be-plaqued. Elegant manses are now bed and breakfast inns and every movable thing worth preserving (including a replica of a riverboat wheelhouse) is now ensconced in a city-center museum that from 1871 to 1955 was the elementary school. Perils for the uninitiated traveler exist, however. Though lodging may be available in some grand old houses, obtaining it can be dicey. The B&Bs; don’t necessarily have an attendant on the premises. You may have to pick up a key from the owner who lives elsewhere.

Our party had made reservations more than a month in advance at the imposing William Klinger Inn, a century-old Victorian home now renting out seven bedrooms with private baths and offering breakfast served “fireside” or on the patio in fine weather. We phoned from Augusta early on the morning of our scheduled arrival to reconfirm our reservations, only to learn via recorded message that the B&B; was closed for a week or so. Upon arrival in Hermann that afternoon, we located the Klinger house right downtown and found it indeed shut up tight. A phone marathon in a sweaty booth led us to the gracious Mollye C., patroness of Mollye C’s B&B;, who was most accommodating but, alas, had insufficient sleeping accommodations available to satisfy our party. (Couples should book the bedroom built in a former wine cellar. It’s furnished with antiques and cozy pillows and begs for a good brandy and a bit of sin.)

It was Mollye who apologized for the sometimes relaxed attitude toward innkeeping. Despite her efforts, we were never able to track down our feckless host and wound up in the local Hermann Motel, a perfectly adequate place that would be cheerless were it not for the sharp wit and great good humor of its now-retired proprietress, Ida Mae Hoffmann.

When we asked about the best restaurant in town, Hoffmann directed us to the Vintage 1847, the dining establishment located in the former horse stables of the town’s grandest winery--and the state’s largest--Stone Hill. She cautioned us to arrive early as it was Sunday and dinner would not be served after 8 p.m.

Indeed, when we arrived at 7 p.m., the maitre d’hotel checked his watch to see if there would be sufficient time to prepare a meal for us. After some rumination he apparently decided we could squeak through.

The setting for the winery is magnificent, the top of perhaps the tallest hill in the area overlooking the tree-shaded village below. Stone Hill’s buildings are most reminiscent of European and some Napa Valley wineries in architecture and ambience.

Remembering that in this area of the country, sugar-cured and hickory-smoked hog jowls are considered a delicacy, it was gratifying to see duck and venison among the traditional menu choices of fish, poultry, beef and pork. The side dishes were imaginative and the flavors were much more French than German. (And the prices were much more New York than St. Louis, with dinners ranging from $12.50-$19.50.)

After selecting a variety of dishes for our small party, I attempted to order the wine but was told that the law forbade the selling of alcoholic beverages after 6:30 p.m. on Sundays. Little annoyances such as this crop up continually to remind one that Missouri remains in the camp that favors legislating human appetites.

Our party returned to Stone Hill the next morning to taste some wines, but a brisk westerly wind brought the fetid exhalations of a pig slurry to Stone Hill’s aerie, so we bought a few bottles untested and fled.

On the way out of town, we stopped at the Hermannhof Winery, surely the archetypal Germany winery (and/or brewery). The cellars and brick buildings are on the National Register of Historic Places. The selection of German sausage meats in a refrigerated case directly across the room from the tasting bar was too tempting to bypass and we indulged in 30 minutes of a cholesterol frenzy.

Although community events are scheduled throughout the season, Hermann is renowned for its Maifest (third weekend in May) and Octoberfest (every weekend of the month), when the population might swell by 40,000 as revelers come to quaff beer, stuff sausages and polka themselves into apoplexy.

Several days after touring the Rhineland, we launched our second Missouri wine expedition in the St. James-Meramec Springs area about 12 miles east of Rolla. Just yards from the St. James exit off I-44 and miles from any vineyard is the St. James Winery’s tasting room-cum-warehouse. On the charm chart it rates a minus score--sort of the 7-Eleven of wine shops. But its industrial ambience belies the quality of its products. One of the best wines I tasted during the tour came from this winery, the 1988 Barrel-Aged Seyval. It also has a nice selection of cheeses, breads and cold meats for picnicking.

From there we headed down the frontage road 4 1/2 miles to State Road B, where we discovered the most picturesque winery in the state, Ferrigno’s (pronounced Fereenyo’s). The tasting room is in a converted barn, the loft of which is rental lodging. A cool, shady courtyard flanked by rustic farm buildings converted to offices and kitchens and decorated with flowers leads to a long covered deck furnished with picnic tables that looks out over vineyards which undulate in the wavy summer air. Next door, protected by tall graceful trees and festooned with a bed of tangerine lilies, is a cottage that was once the Ferrigno family’s home, but which is now the most romantic rental hideaway in six counties. Book early for this place. It sleeps up to six people and families are welcome.

Dick Ferrigno says that although 32,000 cars fly by in both directions on I-44 daily, it’s difficult to get travelers to come four miles from the beaten path. Well, as they say in Show-Me State patois: More’s the better for those who do. Ferrigno and family have been in the business for only a decade, crushing their first grapes in 1981 and opening the winery in ‘82, but already they are preparing for an onslaught of tourism.

Several times per season they cook lavish gourmet meals to serve with their wines, and folks from all over the state and neighboring states make reservations for these galas. Disappointed that our party could not attend one of these dinners the following night, Ferrigno rushed to the kitchen and returned with a tray of hor d’oeuvres that were being prepared at that very moment so that while we tasted wines, we might experience a bit of the culinary elegance that has so captivated his regulars. The food and hospitality made us all wish we could alter our travel plans to stay another day.

Comparing the St. James wine area to the Augusta wine area, Ferrigno says, “We’re Burgundy. They’re Bordeaux.” And, he adds impishly, “This is rougher terrain. The people are simpler, lustier. I’ve never been to Napa, but what we have here are rivers and springs and camping. There are no string quartets playing here.” What St. James does have is the Meramec Spring Park, a jewel of cultured wilderness run by a private foundation for the public good. The best trout fishing in the state can be had in the stream that gushes from the springhead, which spouts 96 million gallons of icy crystaline water every day of the year.

It was here that we took our Ferrigno wines and St. James cheeses and meats for a picnic on a hill overlooking the lush green valley of the park.

Ferreting out wineries in these roller-coaster hills of Phelps and Crawford counties, one needs a detailed map and a good sense of direction. But traveling the blue highways of Missouri is itself a delight. Turning off State Road U to Heinrichshaus Winery, a milelong, one-lane gravel straightaway overarched by trees leads to this cozy little winery in the woods. A few yards from the turnoff, we saw a doe and a fawn brunching.

Picnic tables were placed here and there in the woods beside the tasting room. Inside, Lois Grohe, wife and co-owner with husband Heinrich, poured wines and gossiped with customers who had returned for a case of a favorite vintage.

Back outside, while the automobiles in the sun-tortured parking lot approached nuclear meltdown, children dressed in bright colors played tag among the trees. Their young parents lolled at the picnic tables in low conversation and quiet laughter. A couple of cyclists snoozed on a nylon tarp, the remains of their lunch being investigated by honeybees.

A member of our party observed me taking in the scene and sidled up beside me. “What’s missing from this picture?” she asked.

“Bambi and Thumper,” I replied.

“Well, Toto,” she drawled, “you’re not in California anymore.”

California Tasters’ Choice of Missouri Wines

For a lark, I brought back to my San Francisco abode eight Missouri wines recommended by their vintners. I invited four friends, none of whom is a professional judge, over for an afternoon of tasting.

The cast of characters included:

--Marlene, the serious student who belongs to a wine club, takes frequent tasting trips to wineries in Northern California, and generally does her homework.

--Gale, who possesses a wonderfully sophisticated palate and a vocabulary to match, although she firmly believes that “good wine” begins with “red.”

--Peter, the Irishman, who brings a European nose and sensibility to the proceedings.

--Bette, whose taste for fine things is legendary but whose ability to recognize and appreciate the small good in a large bad is always welcome.

The wines and the comments they elicited:

Bias Vineyard’s 1989 Estate Bottled Riverview White: We all agreed this was a not unpleasant sweetish white sipping wine. I thought it had a nose of Welch’s grape juice and a slightly metallic aftertaste. Peter caught a distinct blast of Listerine. Gale said it was strongly reminiscent of German Auslese wines. Marlene picked up a green apple flavor and nose of cream Concord.

Mount Pleasant Seyval Blanc 1990: “Harsh and overpowering” was Marlene’s verdict on this transparent white wine. She couldn’t think of a dish it would complement, and she wouldn’t dream of drinking it alone. “Chemical and metallic” was as nice as Bette could be. Peter poured his out. I took one sip that was flinty enough for spontaneous combustion and ate four bland crackers to clear out the aftertaste. And this they call “foxy?”

St. James Barrel-Aged 1988 Seyval: Initially, no one but I had anything nice to say about this wine. Gale found “no nose” and a smooth attack followed by a sharp aftertaste that lingered bitterly. Peter thought it smelled like paint thinner but yielded a “passable” flavor. Marlene found it antiseptic and sweet with a nose of some vodka concoction. I thought it had a light pleasant bouquet and a complex buttery taste, much like a Chardonnay.

Perhaps it should be mentioned here that unlike professional wine tasters, we swallowed. And our opinions did seem to mellow as the afternoon progressed. Much later I brought back “mystery” samples to see if opinions had changed. It had many more fans in its second outing.

Blumenhof 1989 Cayuga White: Said Gale, “The light golden color is lovely, as is the floral bouquet, but once in the mouth, it turns vicious.” “Sweet but mediciney,” declared Marlene. I had to agree, although for a fleeting moment I caught a flavor of mint.

Ferrigno Vineyard’s 1989 Blanc de Chaunac: Everyone had something nice to say about this unusual apricot-colored wine. Of course, we were five wines into the tasting here and the cheer level was considerably stronger. Nevertheless, the color was roundly complimented, as was its nutty, sherry-like nose. I truly thought I could smell sweet peas. Bette said she’d actually go out of her way to buy this wine. Marlene, the serious student, thought it tasted different than any other wine in her tasting experience and that it was likely to appeal to folks who are not regular wine drinkers. “Quite pleasant,” intoned Peter. I thought it had a slightly sharp aftertaste.

Heinrichshaus 1989 Cynthiana: This deep reddish-purple wine got top marks of the day. Gale , at last in her element, praised its “legs.” She loved its “woodsy smokiness with berry overtones and on top of that a pleasant spiciness.” It has, she declared, “a soft Merlot quality.” Peter found it “pleasantly smooth.” Bette praised its “effervescent” start and “spicy” finish. I thought it closer to a Cabernet and oddly Italian for having come from Heinrich’s house.

Ferrigno 1990 Chambourcin: The comments on this deep red wine might indicate that having gotten this far into the tasting process, we’d all suddenly mutated into nasty drunks. The disagreeable nose was variously described as “carrot greens,” “juniper and cedar boughs” and the old-reliable “turpentine.” So disgusting was the taste that no one could take more than a teardrop on the tongue.

Mount Pleasant 1988 Port: No one but I knew going in that the 1982 predecessor of this little concoction won a bronze medal at an international competition in England in 1989. And no one much liked it although, to be fair, it should be mentioned that none of us is a port drinker. The honey, caramel sweetness was treacly. Marlene thought it tasted like grape Sweet ‘n Low. I rather liked it. If I ever chose to drink my desserts, this might be it.

GUIDEBOOK

Missouri’s Wine Country

Getting there: Missouri’s Rhineland and Ozark Highlands wine districts are best seen by auto. No regular coach tours are yet available, though Amtrak schedules two trains daily from St. Louis and two from Kansas City that stop in Hermann. From St. Louis, the fare is $18 one way and $27 round trip. Kansas City fare is $36; round trip costs only $3 more. For Amtrak reservations, phone (800) 872-7245.

For more information: For a free packet containing brochures, maps, listings of wineries and area restaurants and a schedule of wine country festivals and events, write: Missouri Department of Agriculture, Marketing Development Division, Grape and Wine Program, P.O. Box 630, Jefferson City, Mo. 65102, (314) 751-6807, or toll-free within Missouri, (800) 392-WINE.

For information about the town of Hermann plus listings of wineries, restaurants, bed and breakfast inns and other lodging, write: Tourist Information, P.O. Box 104, Hermann, Mo. 65041, (314) 486-2744. B&B; rates range from $45-$120 nightly, double occupancy, during high season.

For information about Augusta-area wineries, lodging and food, write: Augusta Visitor’s Assn., P.O. Box 31, Augusta, Mo. 63332, (314) 228-4381.

For brochures and information about Ozark Highlands wineries, write: The Ozark Highland Vintners, P.O. Box 514, St. James, Mo. 65559.