Keith Saarloos is the founder and winemaker at Saarloos + Sons in Santa Ynez, Santa Barbara AVA. He didn’t set out to own a winery—he set out to farm. Wine came later as a way to sustain the land and keep it in the family. Nearly three decades on, he still calls himself a farmer. His family grows every grape they bottle in California’s Santa Ynez Valley and handles everything from production to direct sales under their “From our Plow to Your Porch” philosophy. For Keith, wine isn’t the end product—it’s the catalyst. What matters most is what happens after the cork is pulled: the connections people make and the moments they remember.
Media Inquiries: keith@saarloosandsons.com | https://saarloosandsons.com/
What’s the ONE THING most unique, authentic, & memorable about your brand?
We’re not in the wine business—we’re in the memory business. Wine is just the medium.
I’m a farmer first. We grow our own grapes, make the wine, and tell the story ourselves. But the bottle isn’t the destination—it’s the start of something. Over the years, our wines have been part of proposals, funerals, celebrations, and everyday moments that matter. That’s what people remember.
Every label we produce starts with a person—family, history, or someone worth honoring—because people come before products. We handle everything end-to-end, what we call “From our Plow to Your Porch,” to keep that connection intact.
In the end, it’s not about tasting notes. It’s about who you shared the bottle with.
Describe how and what you’d do with your winemaking career or winery business if you were not constrained.
I’ve thought about this a lot, and it has less and less to do with wine.
If there were no limits, I wouldn’t build the biggest winery—I’d build the best gathering place. A working farm where people reconnect with the land and with each other. Families in the vineyards, not malls. Long tables, shared meals, conversations between strangers. A place for artists, teachers, farmers, veterans—people coming together, learning something, meeting someone.
Loneliness feels like the real epidemic. Wine has always helped solve that—not because of what’s in the bottle, but what happens around it. That’s how I see our tasting room now: a place to practice hospitality.
With unlimited resources, I’d scale that idea. Build a place where people leave feeling like they belong. The wine might be remembered—but the connection is the point.
What is the One Wine most emblematic of your brand and/or winemaking style? Tell us its story.
If I could hand someone just one bottle, it wouldn’t be our Cabernet—it would be DAD.
Named for my father, Larry Saarloos, it says everything about who we are. He was a farmer who taught me that your word matters, hard work matters, and that what you leave in people matters more than what you keep.
DAD changed how I think about wine. It’s not about release dates or scores—it’s about timing. Wine asks you to wait for a moment that matters. And when people open DAD, it’s usually for one: weddings, Father’s Day, funerals, new chapters, quiet nights when someone is missed.
That’s what defines our brand. Not the varietal, but the role the wine plays. If one bottle represents us, it’s DAD—because it started as a thank you to my father and became part of other people’s stories. Read my review of this wine here.
Bonus Question: What are your wholehearted convictions related to the wine business?
I don’t think the wine industry has identified its real competition.
We’re not competing with beer, spirits, or cannabis—we’re competing with loneliness. After nearly three decades in the vineyard and behind the bar, that’s what I’ve seen. Wine doesn’t create the moment—it gives people permission to slow down and be present with each other.
We’ve optimized for convenience and lost the habit of gathering. That’s the risk. As farmers, we’re not just growing grapes—we’re preserving one of the oldest reasons people come together at a table.
The future of wine won’t be decided by scores or trends, but by whether we keep giving people a reason to gather. I don’t worry about what the next generation is drinking. I wonder who they’re sharing it with.