Poles, Polls & Pols

Now that pruning and dormant spraying are done, next on the list of vineyard to do's is replacing damaged poles. I used to think it was my Herculean strength pulling the wire tightener that caused 10 ft. poles to snap, but alas, I have been assisted by termites. (Question: If termites are eating the wooden poles in the vineyard why aren't they eating the wooden beams in our house, or are they?) Digging hole, inserting pole, aligning pole, mixing concrete, pouring concrete is all pretty straightforward. Before this, the pole must be cut from the wires, causing the cordon wire to go limp leaving vines to stand on their own, which they do well when dormant. I want to get this done before budbreak -- which has already started --  before the vines are a host of tender new shoots so easy to break.

Removing the concrete remnant of a 10 ft pole four feet underground is a back-breaking task. Easy enough for me to dig down to where the shovel meets concrete, but with so much wood sticking out, we call in Fidel, that rascal, for the dirty work at 4pm in the afternoon to finish the job. When he's done at 6pm he says, "That'll be $30."

"Why so much?" asks the Queen. "The rate is $12 an hour and you worked two hours."

"You always give me the hard jobs to do," he says.

"Why do you think we hired you?!" says the Queen and she's huffing and puffing and can't get to sleep at night carrying on about the nerve of that rascal to request so much when he does so little and what's so hard about the jobs we've given him because we've been doing everything ourselves.

 "Of course we hire him for the hard jobs," she complains to me at 2 am. "Otherwise, I'll do it myself."

Another sign that the recession is dead and unwell and not living in Paris. The Big Recession is so 2008 and it's 2012 and it's a great leap-year forward and it's an election year and this economy is on the mend and it's time for everyone to plan to reap the future harvest if you're not reaping already. The Hebrew Bible tells us the story of Joseph who had dreams of 7 years of famine and 7 years of bounty.  Have we not been through our years of famine? Is there not light at the end of this tunnel?

This is America and there's been cycles of booms and busts throughout our history. Is this not just another cycle? Isn't there a rainbow after this storm?

I've been so busy travelling around the world and selling everywhere I go that there's been no time to write about the winemaking adventures of Bluey & Craig and the carrying's on of Fidel and the escapades of Coyote Karen and Merlot Mike. While I've been out of town two new restaurants have popped up on Grand Avenue in our little town filling up spaces vacated during the downturn. Why, even Joe the Wino himself has been quiet these days, unsure what to say because the economic spring is here and the flowers are blooming and he hates the President and it seems he's upset the economy is improving because he can't blame that on the President. I remember last year when Joe, who owns a high tech company in San Diego, laid off more employees (again) from his very profitable firm and the next day the stock market tanked hundreds of points and it was as if he (and his corporate buddies) timed it perfectly and they believed they were economic and CEO geniuses. While they were cutting jobs and speaking venom and putting millions of dollars into their own pockets, the good stewards of business were investing and building their companies and expanding sales and growing exports while Joe the Wino was complaining about Obamacare and telling his employees they could "go on the government plan" and saying the President was "ruining the country" and Obama this and Obama that. He said "Obama is destroying jobs" and raising his taxes and those of his millionaire friends is going to reduce jobs but it was he (Joe the Wino) who was laying off employees, looking out for number #1 (himself), paying the lowest tax rates in recent history and putting millions of dollars into his own pocket as our country's national debt soars.

Who can afford going to the movies these days or to a ball game or to the theater, so for us there's TV (yes, we finally bought one) and our favorite entertainment has been watching those Republican presidential candidates debate as they rant about Obama this and Obama that and how he's as evil as that Holocaust denier from Iran and this is all we hear on TV and after months and months of this, like the Big Lie, with so much repetition it sometimes becomes hard to discern the truth and we were starting to believe what they say and what Fox News says might have some truth to it.

We went outside and pruned the vines and got rained on and hailed on and did our work and thought about things. We heard the cries of the hawks and the barks of our dogs and found enough money to turn on the heat (whenever we could see our breath in the house) and ate bread and beans and drank the $1.99 6-pack beer from Trader's Joe. We drank the wine we grew which is inexpensive for us to make but has an amazing taste and ate way too much cheese to go with the wine and we didn't go to bed hungry though we might not be eating as well as we should. Now if things are so bad and the President is the reincarnation of 666 and a Darth Vader destroying jobs and job creators, how is it that I'm  involved with a little company that started with  2 people in the garage at the depths of the recession and has now grown to 50 people and we started offering benefits and providing health insurance and all the while the candidates are saying that the President has stifled small companies and yet who could be smaller than us and we are growing like crazy. And, after a couple of years of do it yourself vineyarding we've got  a tiny bit of extra funds to hire Fidel for a couple of hours and Fidel is demanding more money and isn't this also a sign of an economy that's turning around?  If not, why are customers and dealers from all over the world demanding our products?  Even our wine sales are increasing, PTL, because we've got to sell all these cases of wine that are piling up.  So much for the pols and the polls. You heard it here first (although I was too busy to right it down last year): good times are coming and make your plans now to join us for our 2nd Presidential Inauguration Wino's Ball (and yes, Bo the First Dog is invited) and before then let's start planning for a bountiful harvest in the Fall.

Fidel came back the next day and pulled the termite bitten wood out of the holes and he worked for less than 2 hours and said, "You only have to pay me $20 today."

"Good, because that's all I have," said the Queen. As he was leaving she gave him two Italian-made chairs which had once served the dining room of a condominium at the Watergate. He put them in the back of his beat-up pickup and drove off, a truce of sorts between them and a sign of the trickle down economics to come.

First Buds, First Gophers

Budbreak at Blue-Merle Vineyard.

Like the first kernel of popcorn that pops, the first bud on the 6th leaf Tempranillo vines has unfolded. Bud break has started in the vineyard, soon to be awash in a sea of light green. As with opening day of baseball,  there is so much hope and promise and anyone can win. This is the year of a great vintage, and why not?

Joe The Wino says "a gopher in February is worth 50 in June" and the gnarly varmints have been stirred by the heat wave the past week when it hit over 70 degrees in the vineyard, causing those buds to swell to great pregnancy.  The Queen caught her first gopher of the season this morning (the carcass discovered by Bluey who goes into Pointer Mode when there's a gopher trapped in the hole -- I shall spare our sensitive readers a photo), after pruning most of the vineyard herself while I was in France trying as many varieties of wine as I could (limited by the fact I was there on daytime job business, not a winetasting tour). The French wine industry is alive and well and producing some great, enjoyable wines, even for my pallet, this said after making my first trip to France since becoming a winemaker. I've inspected every vine, fine tuning the cuts, to make sure we do not overcrop -- the Queen tends to leave a few too many spurs, a few too many buds. Thoughtful pruning now can help down the road with canopy management (avoiding that jungle), mildew control and better grapes, just like weeding out a few gophers early in the season makes them easier to manage down the road.  If good wine is made in the vineyard, this is where it starts. 

Don't Cry Over Spilled Wine

Streaming wine.

We have an old saying: "When racking wine you're going to spill." This has been true since 2004, so it was something of a miracle last weekend when we racked 3+ barrels of wine and didn't spill a drop.  No accidents. No spousal fights. The other morning as I took Bluey out for a run I noticed an inky color meandering beneath the garage door. I went back into the house, into the garage (which has been converted into a winery) to find that my worse nightmare was about to unfold: A container of wine leaning like a tower of Pisa about to tip over. (It had been placed on a wheeled stand not strong enough to support it -- of course, The Queen had warned me: "What are you thinking?" she said, about putting that container on that wheeled dolly? "It's not going to work.") As it is, only a gallon or so escaped, and I don't like that wine that much anyhow, a Petite-Sirah with the aroma of rotten eggs (more about that in another post). So here it is folks: With Winemaker's Journal, you get the good, the bad and the ugly. There's no reason to cry over spilled wine. The dog will lick it up.

The Allure of Netting & Disrobing Vines

The mind wanders down a path of creativity while doing repetitive manual labor and ponders amusing thoughts to pass the time. These green nylon nets become silky black lace and we're no longer pulling nets over vines but rather helping our darling into her stockings. We're not tying the nets to keep out birds but helping our darling fasten her dress behind her neck. As the climax of harvest arrives we're not untying vines but unhooking her brassiere. The next move is helping her step out out of her black lace revealing her luscious, sweet fruit. The rest is up to your imagination.

Is OwlGore Asleep On The Job?

There's a fresh gopher hole in the vineyard right underneath the home of OwlGore. What's that gopher thinking? And what the hell has OwlGore been doing? Is he asleep on the job? Did a GOP candidate just win a Congressional seat in a heavily Democratic New York district? WTF? Wait, the gopher trap Bluey and I set this morning is empty, and we're known for catching them with one shot, like the DeerHunter. And what's that small mound of fresh slimeytar rodent gunk under the owl's nest? Could that be the gopher? Tomorrow will tell.

A Superpower Palate For Grapes

I've never had the experience of tasting "chocolate" in wine, which is to say the society of grands chevaliers du vin from Burgundy are not aggressively recruiting me to join their group, quel domage. However, my superpower palate for tasting grapes may qualify me for the next edition of X-Men (in which I prevent the "terrioristas" from injecting salt into Napa Valley's water table and save the grapes). Our beloved instructor and mentor Lum Eisenman once told us in class that with about 20 or so years of experience we would be able to walk among rows of vines and determine by tasting individual grapes if the vineyard was ready for harvest or not. (Been there, done that, most notably during a pick three years ago when I was sampling Brunello berries from the vine and was astonished that the brix were low, which was confirmed once we took measurements back in the lab). Two years ago when we purchased grapes from Val de Guadeloupe, Mexico, when I munched on some grapes my first reaction was, "These are salty."  Our mentor Pete Anderson remarked, "Some people are able to taste the brine, others aren't.  You've got that sense". Not only could I taste the salt in the grapes, I can taste it in finished wine from those grapes (even when professional winemakers using those same grapes claim they were able to cold soak the salt out of them -- not so, in my opinion).

Under the full harvest moon this evening Bluey and I picked a random sample of 50 Aglianico grapes, squeezed them in a baggie and poured the juice into a shot glass and sipped. Not quite ready for picking, I guessed, and the refractometer confirmed that with a reading of 23 brix (a measure of sugar).  We're shooting for higher. But I could feel the acid on the tongue and tickling my glands and thought that it's just a little high, but still a nice acid and will make for a good puckery wine.

My benchmark for acid in wine is the Cabernet produced by Chateau Montelena.  Mind you I don't buy this wine, but I enjoy winning it in bets from Celestial Sandra and Coyote Karen, and this wine is the best I've had in recent memory which, despite being 10+ years in age is still has robust fruit, and, to borrow a phrase from wine connoisseur Bill Clinton, "It's the acid, stupid!"

I went into the winery and sampled the Tempranillo now in its third day of cold soak. The fruit is delicious, but it lacked the puckeriness of that Aglianico juice I had tasted a few minutes before.  The Tempranillo checked in at 25+ brix with a high pH just below 4 and an acid level below .45 .  I was considering blending some high acid wine that we held back from the year before, but at the end of the day decided to do a modest addition of tartaric acid to raise the acidity to approximately .60  .  I added the acid, stirred, then tasted. You didn't need to be an X-Men to notice the difference, and improvement, immediately.

Taste varies widely from person to person, and there are no objective standards. What I like, you may not, and vice versa. What has been your experience tasting grapes (or wine) and what are you able to detect?

A Vintner's Prayer

Twenty-five people joined us for yesterday's picking which yielded over 1,000 lbs. of Tempranillo and 700 lbs. of Petite Sirah grapes. One way to honor those who perished on 9/11 (and the members of our armed forces along with the innocent who have been slain in the War On Terror) is to celebrate life while we have it and what better way to do that than with the harvest, at the time of the harvest moon, and to sip wines made from those same vines in earlier years. Our vines are in their 5th leaf and at their planting Father Bill Lieber from Grace Episcopal Church  San Marcos, CA prepared a "Liturgy of the Vine" to bless the infant vineyard.  It has been our custom during each harvest (this being our third) to read from that liturgy and give thanks and praise for all that is good in life.

"Holy God - Beloved Trinity -  let me always be rooted in you so that I may live in you and you in me. Bless me so that your grace may flow through me, allowing me to bear your fruit to a hungry and helpless world. As I wander, prune me of all that inhibits your growth in me. Let me do nothing apart from you so that your joy may be complete in me. Amen."

The Vineyard Blessing

"Dear Lord, You are the One who blesses us with abundant life. You are the One who brings the seasons by which seed is planted, matures and is harvested.  So we pray for your blessing upon this vineyard, that the plants may be vigorous and healthy. We pray for your blessing upon the vineyard owners and workers as they tend the vineyard. May they be diligent as they tend the plants and appreciative of your blessing at the time of harvest. We ask your blessing on all who share in the gift of the fruit of the vine. Let us enjoy the celebration of life as you set an example in John 2:1-11 when Jesus was invited to a wedding feast in Cana where he performed His first miracle. For you are the one who brings abundant life as our redeemer and savior. May the blessing of God, Gather, Son and Holy Spirit be given you and to these fields now and forever. Amen."

What's On The Other Side of Bottling Black Hole?

Bottling is sitting down to write a college term paper. Bottling is driving from North Carolina to Manhattan in one stretch. Bottling is doing your tax returns in a day. Bottling is running a marathon. No matter what time you start, it's going to take all day; it's going to be painful; you'll be lucky if you finish before midnight. If bottling is entering a black hole, then what's on the other side?

If there is one piece of advice to share about bottling, follow the example of Tom Sawyer white washing the fence. Bottling is fun. Bottling is celebrating the new wine. Bottling is tasting what you're packaging. Bottling is fellowship and meant to be shared with good friends, not a penitence for sins known and unknown, not a purgatory to be suffered in solitude.  As I ran around, methodically performing all of the bottling functions (filler, quality inspector, corker, case stacker, labeler and taster), I put out a distress call to Merlot Mike disguised as an invitation to taste the new wine with free food (I made a Tangier's chicken using fresh Myers Lemons and olives from our property which wasn't half bad). And Merlot Mike, like himself, recovered from yesterday's massive harvest, ascended the winery with friends and family and took up the corker and was faster than old John Henry working that manual machine like lightening and corking those bottles. Owen watched and talked with the dog. Mark stacked the cases and Nancy tasted the wines and food. Light appeared at the end of the tunnel. Their response to my 911 plea rescued me and fulfilled their pledge to the winemaker's creed: thou shalt not rest when they winemaking neighbor is still laboring over the bottles, or the crush pad, or the vines, especially on Labor Day.

Rainbow landing in Valley Center, CA before
Palomar Mountain. View from Blue-Merle Vineyard.

We sent them forth to retire for the evening and went back inside the winery to finish bottling the bottom of the barrel when the phone rang and it was Merlot Mike telling me to step outside where, behold, I found out what's on the other side of the bottling black hole: a double rainbow that arched from the vineyard in Valley Center where we pick the Petite Sirah to the sky above our heads landing just behind Merlot Mike's estate.

What's on the other side of your black hole?

What Makes A Great Picking Party?

Champagne toast & receiving
instructions.

A swarm of locusts.

Right on schedule, Merlot Mike held the great Merlot festival on the Sunday before Labor Day, no small feat considering weather variations from year to year. This is the 7th year we've attended the harvest at Escondido Sunrise Vineyard and it's quite an event. About 80 people were on hand ranging in age from 8 months to 80 years, from as far away as Oklahoma and Australia who picked over 10,000 lbs in 3 hours. There were winemakers with their fans (including San Diego's Blue Door Winery which makes their best-selling $35 wine from this Merlot) and the Blue Thong Society, a civic organization. And of course, the cast of characters from Blue-Merle Country made an appearance to sign autographs and pick including Joe The Wino (fresh from meetings with Syrah Palin), Coyote Karen (a vineyardista dressed to the nines & freshly perfumed), Celestial Sandra chaperoning the USC cheer girls, Jim and the Vietnam-era mule 4-wheel drive vehicle, and the arch villain Fidel (that rascal).

As a kid, I used to hear stories from college students who went to France to pick grapes at the harvest. Now, we just walk to the neighbors (a bit more convenient than the trip to Europe) and what could be more fun? If you've never participated in a grape harvest, I suggest you find one and go. It's good entertainment for the whole family.

What makes for a good harvest party? Here's what I've learned from Merlot Mike over the years, with a couple of other ideas thrown in.  What recommendations do you have for us to make it better?

Check List
-- Open nets the night before (so the guests can right to work harvesting grapes)
-- Prepare buckets and clippers for the guests

Relaxing after harvest, before
the crush.

-- Blessing of the vines
-- Champagne toast (ask Jim bring his sword to make a grand show) and a good warm up speech
-- Lots of bottled water
-- Shady area to rest
-- Truckloads of food (Merlot Mike's better half Nancy makes this brisket to die for each ear). Ask the guests to bring a side dish if they are able. Need lots of food to soak up that wine.
-- Big, healthy males with strong backs
-- Nubile maidens to do some ceremonial stomping

Merlot Mike (R) with
Stone Beer in hand
with Blue Door
Winery

-- A keg of Stone Brewery Arrogant Bastard Ale (for enjoying after the picking)
-- Quality control team to pick out any large stems or leaves that make it through the crusher
-- A scale (to weigh the harvest as it comes in and the must)
-- A hose down team (to hose buckets and containers as needed)
-- A Gator, Polaris or another vehicle to haul grapes if long distances must be covered
--Samples of wine made from the vineyard.

Instructions for New Pickers
-- #1 Don't Cut Your Finger! (Merlot Mike always invites Veterinarian Don to be on hand just in case. The problem, according to Mike, is the guy who last got his finger sewed on by Don hasn't stopped barking.)
-- Raisins are good. Throw them in.
-- Leaves are bad. Keep them out of the buckets.
--If a bunch falls on the ground, pick it up, dust it off and throw it into the bin.
--A 5-gallon pail can weigh 15 lbs. or more when full. Don't strain yourself.
--Do taste the grapes.
--If your dog eats grapes, keep him at home (grapes can kill a dog).
--Stay hydrated (it takes good beer to make good wine), wear sun glasses and a hat and enjoy yourself!

What do you think makes for a great picking party?

The Sign.

Something Is Rotten In The State of Blue-Merle: Can You Guess What It Is?

What's in that bag?

This is a story about a foul smell at our doorstep and it's a hoot. I know about off odors in the winery (I've made my fair share of bad batches) and the vineyard (my nose detects the occasional bird rotting away in a net half devoured by Yellow Jackets or the rabbit that tries to hop through the squirrel trap, stupid rabbit). A similar scent greets me each morning as I open the front door of the house. What's that smell?! I check the netting in the nearby rows of vines. Nothing. I inspect the mouse traps outside the garage. Nothing. I search for nearby carcasses. Nothing. What is that smell? I glance at rotting greens inside a plastic bag destined for the compost pile and think, aha, this is it. Alas, not. And then something in the Starbucks bag next to the trash catches my eye (shown in the picture above). I notice the familiar scent coming from the trash can, open the lid to inspect and am overwhelmed by the stench and realize (with amazement) what the Queen has been collecting and putting into the trash by our front door. Can you guess what it is? I'll give you another hint: Owl Gore.