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I was bitten by the wine bug in college, when my friends and I discovered that rather than spend $6 for each gin and tonic, it was far cheaper for each of us to order a bottle of wine with just one glass. We drank little else but Hogue Cellars Fume Blanc for nearly two years, and somehow I thought this qualified me as knowledgeable about wine.
Only when I visited Marlborough, New Zealand at the beginning of 2001 did I learn how much flavor and complexity could be packed into a single bottle of white wine. And today the world has begun to discover the potential of Marlborough red wines as well.
I first met Michael on a spirits gathering, shortly after that 2001 visit to New Zealand. We’ve since kept in touch, and when I told him that I was coming back to Marlborough to work on a nonfiction book about the region’s winemakers, he asked that I write him regularly. And when I can actually sound intelligent in a wine discussion with Michael, then I’ll know it’s time to pack my bags and head home to New York. In the meantime, please enjoy our correspondence just as we do.
Dear Michael,
I’ve only been here for a week, and it’s already become clear just how much there is to learn.
I mean, I knew there was more to it than pick grapes, crush grapes, bottle, enjoy with friends. But a couple days ago I went to the Grove Mill vineyard’s wine library, which is basically about 10 rows of vines, each of a different variety. You’re welcome to walk up and pop a grape in your mouth so you can get a sense as to what it will become, but so far as I could tell, none of the grapes off the vine taste anything like what you’d expect. Take Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc. Both are dry wines, but the former is usually oaky, while the latter is fruity. But the Chardonnay grape off the vine tastes very fruity, and the Savy grape tastes, well, like a cheap Chardonnay in a box.
I was later told that the Savy grape probably wasn’t ripe yet, and that it should be rather tasty. OK, fair enough. But then you have the Merlot grape, which is bitter as an old shoe. The Cabernet grape is sweet and fruity; in a blind test, I’d have said it was Zinfandel. The only one that even resembled the wine it becomes is Pinot Noir, a pretty earthy and bitter grape, but not at all unpleasant.
Speaking of Pinot Noir, I spent about nine hours bottling it at Allan Scott Wines & Estates, where I’m based for the duration of my stay. When I got there at 8am, they had already been at it for about an hour and a half, and when I left around 6pm they still had another two hours to go. The holding tank for the wine is about 20 feet high, and the stainless-steel beast holds 10,500 liters. And at 750mL per bottle, well, do the math, and it pretty much explains why bottling takes so long.
From tank to bottle, the wine passes through a series of pumps, filters, and contraptions I might be able to comprehend if I leave now and go get a degree in physics. The only part of it I understood is that CO2 is pumped into the top of the tank as the wine is pulled from the bottom so as to prevent oxidation. Other than that, working the line on and off for all those hours, seeing the machine wash the bottles, fill them, and screw on caps (corks are pretty taboo here), I felt like I was on Laverne & Shirley, minus the hairnet and catchy opening theme song.
All told, there’s a lot of grunt work involved in making a luxury product.
Now here’s the good news: On my first day, I managed to break only two bottles. And only one of the two actually contained wine. And both came early on, so the rest of the day was incident-free.
Next up is to help clean out some tanks and filters, I imagine because there’s less a possibility that I’ll break something, or because they just want to confuse me more for their own amusement. Might be a bit of both. The harvest begins next week, which will mean long hours, dirty clothes, sore muscles, and lots of beer drinking with the winemakers at the local pub. I’ve only met a few of them so far, but they’re some of the most interesting and dedicated people I’ve ever met. More on them next time.
Cheers,
Eric
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