Thursday, February 5, 2009

In Vino Veritas

Blah, blah, blah, in wine there is truth...hell, you could say the same about Vodka. Or beer. Drink enough, and even the most discreet individual will say something he or she shouldn't have said. That's usually a good time to take pictures of them by the way.

But there are certain truths in winemaking that are beyond dispute. Take any facet of winemaking, and within that subject, some things just cannot be argued. A good example is when is the best time to complete malolactic (ML) fermentation? After all, ML takes a while to finish, and the progress is affected by numerous things like ambient temperature (bacteria struggle below 62 degrees or so), pH (high pH is easier, low pH is more challenging), alcohol levels (high alcohol is a hostile environment), and more. ML fermentation is anything but a straight line -which I guess is kind of like that scene in Kill Bill 1 where "Black Mamba" is getting the Hittori Honzo sword presented to her and Hittori Honzo says something like "revenge is never a straight line"- or maybe not. Sometimes ML finishes before winter, sometimes in spring, sometimes the next summer, sometimes it just doesn't finish.

So which is the best time for an ML to finish? Easy question. Here is what I know to be beyond dispute about the best time for ML fermentations to finish**:

1. If your ML's complete before winter- that is the best possible thing because you can sulfur your wines and keep them safe. This reflects a conscious effort by the winemaker to always adhere to the best possible practices.

2. If your ML's don't complete until spring, that is the best possible thing because longer ML keeps the wine slightly blanketed with CO2.This reflects a conscious effort by the winemaker to always adhere to the best possible practices.

3. If your ML's don't complete until summer, that is the best possible thing because if you bottle in the fall, you will probably have used less sulfur if you waited to sulfur until ML is complete.This reflects a conscious effort by the winemaker to always adhere to the best possible practices.

4. If your wines simply don't complete ML, that is the best possible thing, because that harder profile of malic acid gives the wine an additional layer of structure.This reflects a conscious effort by the winemaker to always adhere to the best possible practices.

5. In all instances, NEVER admit anything is out of your control or that you made a mistake. Instead, always make it clear that you are the ringmaster, and whatever happens is all part of your grand design.

**this rather fuzzy logic can be applied to any facet of winemaking.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Sleeping With the Enemy

What wines do you drink?

This has to be the most common question winemakers hear- and the answer can be revealing about the winemaker.

At the bottom of the food chain are the winemakers who drink their own wine all the time. Not once in awhile- all the time. These cretins don't usually cop to this , but in time, all is revealed. it's not that they bring their own wines to parties (which is normal), or even tasting their own (also normal), nope, these denizens of the deep drink theirs over all others.

By the time you complete a wine, you have lived with it for the better part of a couple years or more. You were there walking the vineyard repeatedly, worrying about every blip in the weather from spring frost to harvest heat. Whatever issues there were during fermentation 9and there are always issues) haunt you forever. If you took a shortcut, come judgment day (the day you bottle), those shortcuts are right there in your face, calling you out. And for the next few years anyways, every time you do taste your wine, you are usually thinking about "would haves" and "could haves".

Or you should be. What kind of egotistical slob doesn't find fault with his own wines? Self-criticism is the cornerstone of winemaking. I don't know a decent winemaker who can drink their own wines and find pleasure- except for the terminally self-absorbed. When you drink your wines along with other winemakers, you'd better be thinking their wine has merits yours lacks, or you are probably delusional. Of course, this doesn't apply when you are pouring for others- that's when you get to focus on all that is good. But stand alone with your nose in a glass of your own wine- and the gnawing doubts about everything you did rise to the surface faster than the aromatics.

At least for a few years. Because by then, you've let go of much of the angst about that particular wine, and replaced it with the angst over the wines you've made in the interim. And you can actually enjoy that older wine. Time dulls your hatred of your own wines- sort of the opposite of familiarity breeding contempt. I was at a party with a bunch of other winemakers a couple years ago and a friend handed me a glass and said "you've gotta taste this". I did and I said- that's an amazing Syrah- whose is it?" He laughed and said "it's yours". It had been so long since I had tasted it, I didn't even recognize it. And for the first time, I was really able to enjoy this wine- but I would never have poured it for myself.

I find the guys who make the best wines for my palate are the guys who drink the same kinds of wines that I drink- the wines of the world. I cannot understand how anyone, especially a winemaker, wouldn't want to try every interesting wine from every place on earth. All grapes have a story to tell- some are more interesting or complex than others. Sometimes a simple story is best- sometimes not. But if you are trying to understand the secrets of wine, you'd better drink it all.

Two nights ago I had dinner with a friend who shares my passion for wines beyond California. Like me, he makes wine here, and like me, is a proponent of what we do. But like me, his cellar expresses a lot of voices- so we drank a boatload of old wines- Chablis from Ravenau, Hermitage Blanc from Chave, burgundy from Maume, some old negociant Hermitage that was more Burgundian in its femininity than Rhone-like, an exquisite old Bordeax (1966 La Mission Haut Brion) and some old SGN Pinot Gris from Alscace. And a really bizzare very old Zin from California, made in Colorado and bottled in California (which was vile, but informative). And a new Syrah from a small local producer that was a wonderful example of what California can do with this grape. I'll tell you what, I learned a lot more about wine that night than I would ever learn drinking my own wines night after night- or even just the wines of my friends. Although my ass was most certainly dragging the next morning- it was a hell of a Monday night.

It's really not "sleeping with the enemy"- because even though every winemaker is in competition with every other one (hey, we all have to sell this stuff we make), the fact is that we all need each other too. If we can't look beyond our own backyard, how are we ever going to know what the rest of the world is doing- and how in god's name will we ever know if what we are doing can be better (which it always can)? Nope, we all should be learning from each other, and we should all be pushing each other to make better wine.

Except for those guys who think their own wines are the best. If you see them at a party, and out of a bunch of wines they choose their own- don't walk away- run. Because their wines are likely to be the worst wine there, and their company just as bad. Look for the guy who is trying a little of everything- that guy probably makes more interesting wines than anyone else there. But tell him to save some for me- I've got a lot to learn.