The vineyards of Oakville.

Harvest 2016 is well and truly over in Vinoland, but it has been over much longer at TWWIAGE.  It is warmer up north in Oakville and harvest happened sooner, and finished faster, than here in the Coombsville tundra.  Grape-picking may be at an end, and wine is, well, still making, but now, in what is now considered the off-season for all things grape and wine, is a great time to partake in a little continuing education.
This morning, the winemaker at TWWIAGE took me, and several of my co-workers, on a field trip to some neighbouring Oakville vineyards. TWWIAGE does buy a small amount of grapes from a handful of well established Oakville growers with whom the winemaker, and the owners of TWWIAGE, have forged strong and stable relationships.
Buying grapes from other growers means that a winery can produce more wine to sell.  But purchasing fruit grown on different soils, from distinct micro-climates and with alternative clone/rootstock/training combinations can lead to various nuances and complexities in the final blend.
Our little band of wily winery-workers trudged through five vineyards in all, committing to memory soil-types, trellising systems and crop yield: it was very educational.  And fun, for a geek like me.

What ifs.

The photograph on this Vinsanity post is meant to illustrate how I imagine our great-great-grandchildren will enjoy their Napa Valley wines.  I envision a future where Riedel may have been forced out of the glassware business because all wine will be being quaffed from coffee mugs, (in this case, a rather fetching Robert Mondavi mug - adorned with Bob's mug).  I came to this rather alarming conclusion after reading a stunningly unscientific article in the January issue of Scientific American, 'Will We Still Enjoy Pinot Noir?'  The article is written by Chicken Licken, sorry, I mean, Kimberly A. Nicholas who is an associate professor of sustainability science at Lund University in Sweden.  Ja, that Sweden.
Ms. Nicholas writes to educate us all about climate change and its effect on wine-growing regions around the globe and seems to be on a crusade to save the wine styles that we know and enjoy today for the benefit of the palates of future generations.  I dunno, personally, I am glad that the Bordeaux wines that I can enjoy today do not resemble any of the wines being produced in that particular wine region during the (approximate) 300 year period when Bordeaux was owned by England: they were most likely horrid by today's standards.
Wine was not being produced commercially in the Napa Valley 200 years ago (as it was in most European countries), and even if it had been would it have tasted like, oh, let's say the Saddelback, 2011 Merlot (Oakville AVA) that I am going to drink with dinner tonight?  I doubt it.  There are a lot of variables that have contributed to the evolution of wine production through the centuries, not just heat.  Obviously, temperature brings out different characteristics in grapes (ergo, wine), but focusing only on the influence of heat ignores the importance of things like soil composition and topography, etc.
There is no real research documented in this article other than a graphic which cites the work of Lee Hannah (of Conservation International) and Patrick Roehrdanz (of U.C. Santa Barbara), which suggests that climate change will force the wine industry to "migrate" to survive.  A sidebar claims, "California growers in Napa and Sonoma are experimenting with ways to compensate for climate change, preferable to moving to new locations."  How preposterous (and alarmist) is that statement?  I personally know a few Napa growers and not one of them has mentioned moving their operations elsewhere.  I don't know about Messrs. Hannah and Roehrdanz, but Ms. Nicholas hails from Sonoma, so I am assuming that she has noticed, first hand, the very current lack of plantable acreage in the Napa Valley and is aware that, basically, there is a moratorium on hillside planting.  Oh, and there is a tiny paragraph that mentions some sunlight analyses that Ms. Nicholas conducted with her "colleagues at Stanford and U.C. Davis," which showed "that for every 1 percent increase in light, there was a more than 2 percent decrease in desirable tannins and anthocyanins." Not one "desirable tannin" (and its subsequent disappearance) was named in the article.  Well, there goes the neighbourhood...and the palates of the wine drinkers of 2080!  (Wonder where Ms. Nicholas bought her crystal ball, because I want one.)
There is one thing in the article, right near the end, perhaps as a meagre attempt at objectivity, that I agree with, but it is nothing Ms. Nicholas proposed.  Jason Kesner, of Kesner Wines (producers of mainly Chardonnay and Pinot Noir), believes "that the most outstanding vineyards in the region may still be generations away."  How dare he be so optimistic and so audaciously uninformed!  But I happen to agree with him.  With new techniques, equipment, plant materials, philosophies and, yes, even conservation, I think Napa wine-growing has a rosy future.  The Antinori's, the Italian wine dynasty, who began making wine in the really toasty middle ages, have even invested in Napa's future.  I am not filled with doom and gloom.
Nobody knows whether or not global warming is fact or fiction, man-made or a natural and cyclical phenomenon and to pretend (with no facts to back up that pretense, especially in fact-free articles like the one in Scientific American), is just irresponsible and journalistic-sensationalism at its worst.
My own empirical data suggests, nay screams, that after about a decade of trying to get Cabernet sauvignon, clone 4, ripened in chilly-Coombsville I am not likely to achieve a desirable level of ripeness in 2015 either.  Not this year, not 100 years from now.  Sigh.  I should have planted clone 169, and that's a fact.

Tasting in the 'hood: Coombsville.

Napa county contains, within it's geographical boundaries, certain areas that exhibit distinct microclimates and terrains that are said to impress upon the grapes grown within them, definite and distinctively recognisable characteristics. Sort of comparable to the French Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée (AOC) system, these appellations in the United States are known as American Viticultural Areas (AVA). To be even considered for AVA status, supporting data must be submitted to the government which, after requiring applicants to jump through hoops of red tape, decides whether the proposed AVA designation will be granted. The entire Napa Valley is itself an AVA, but within the Napa Valley there exist 15 distinct sub-AVAs.
I work in the Oakville AVA, but I live in a different part of the valley known as Coombsville. I can personally attest to the fact that the microclimate in Coombsville, or as Vinomaker likes to call it, The Tundra, is considerably cooler than the rest of the valley. Coombsville looks like it is on track to be the Napa Valley's newest AVA. It's ironic, considering the Coombsville area has a longer history of winemaking than most of the rest of the valley. Indeed, the Coombsville area gets it's name from Nathan Coombs, the founder of the city of Napa, and historical records show that some of the first vineyards in the valley were planted here prior to 1870.
This afternoon, I was lucky enough to be invited to the Coombsville Vintners & Growers Association's inaugural trade and media tasting. There are currently 38 member wineries in total, 21 showed up for this event. The wineries that were pouring definitely offered up wines that really seemed to display characteristics unique to this area located in the south eastern corner of the Napa Valley. The temperate climate here, the one that Vinomaker so often complains about, effects an extended growing season which lends itself to full phenologic maturation of the grapes. This, in turn manifests itself in medium to full-bodied wines that display true varietal characteristics with fabulously, finessed flavour profiles.
It was a pleasantly eye-opening event. I suppose it took the petition for AVA status to cause many of these wineries, (that I wasn't even aware existed until very recently), to seemingly appear from out of the woodwork. Hats off to whomever was responsible for organising these wineries into one association. Wineries that particularly stood out for me were; Black Cat (Tracey Reichow's wonderful Syrah was, as always, delicious), Daviana, Farella, Inherit The Sheep (adorable label), Porter, and Prime. Working my way around the different stations it was glaringly apparent that this is a collection of like-minded individuals who are in the wine business because they are very passionate about the wines they craft. This is a group of vintners and growers who are very happy to share their wines with anyone who wants to taste them, and you could tell they were loving every minute of it. The whole atmosphere struck me as very different from the sadly jaded attitudes that can often be encountered in many of the upvalley wineries.
I spoke to a lot of people and tasted a lot of nicely, handcrafted wines. One of my favourite comments came from the winemaker for Blue Oak Vineyard, Grant Long. Although the majority of the wines being showcased were Cabernets, Grant was pouring a really bold Merlot. At 200 cases this is a tiny production which apparently was aged in oak for 30 months. I questioned the length of time in oak and the winemaker responded thus: "If you make Merlot, make it memorable." Fair enough.
For me, this was a thoroughly enjoyable event. I wish all concerned the speedy confirmation of their, in my humble opinion, well deserved AVA status.