It's never too early.

A mere five days later, and just look at that colour.  My Pinot grigio grapettes are rushing with reckless abandon through veraison.  Within the next week or so, I'm thinking, the bird netting will have to be installed. As of now, it seems that the harvest of these grapes will be earlier than last year.  Not as early as harvest at Mumm Napa Valley though, where harvest began yesterday.  Yikes!
It seems that some 12 tons of Pinot noir grapes decided that they were done with idly hanging around in the vineyard and decided it was harvest time: the earliest harvest ever, by one day, for Mumm (but not a valley record, apparently).  Like I always say, we are all on Mother Nature's schedule.

It's ripening time again.

When I got back from San Francisco on Thursday I did a quick detour into the Pinot grigio to check on the progress of a couple of baby vines, (I had taken their milk cartons off before going to England).  The babies are doing fine, in fact, they're growing like weeds.  And I'm happy to report that the rest of the vines are doing well also, as they are beginning to go through veraison, and right on Mother Nature's schedule.

San Franciacorta.

Yesterday, I chose to venture out of Napa. Jeremy Parzen (aka Do Bianchi) was hosting a Franciacorta tasting in San Francisco and I decided that I wanted to attend.  So I trekked across the bay, and quite a trek it was, (note to self: public transport is only as good as the parking availability at the terminals/stations), to participate in what turned out to be a fun and very informative tasting.

Alongside importers, distributors, professional winewriters and Franciacorta enthusiasts, I tasted through 16 wines (or "16 skus" in wine-promotion parlance) from about 10 different Franciacorta producers.  All four categories of Franciacorta were represented; Brut, Satèn, Millesimato and Rosé.  Made by the metodo classico, but with only 4.5 atmospheres of pressure instead of the traditional 6 atmospheres, all of the wines had less fizz than one would normally associate with a bottle of bubbly, (more reminiscent of a Crémant), which meant the wines showed a little more softness and elegance on the palate.  There were several standouts in the Franciacorta line-up for me. Here is a selection of my WhiffsNotes;

Best nose:  Barone Pizzini Satèn, NV - Wow! Baked apples and toast. Soft fizz.  Easy to swallow.

Best mouthfeel:  Il Mosnel EBB Extra Brut, 2009 - At once clean and complex.

Best finish:  Montensia Brut, NV - Nice.  Opened up beautifully.  Long, long finish.

Overall drinkability:  A tie between - Il Mosnel Satèn, 2010 - Super soft, ozoney-alpiness. What a mouthfeel!  And, Berlucchi Brut '61, NV - Dry, clean, toast, nice finish.

Special mention:  Camossi Brut, NV - Fruity, soft with unexpected Turkish Delight/rose petal vibe.

It is not without a soupçon of irony that I acknowledge that some of the most appealing wines to me at the Franciacorta tasting were 100% Chardonnay.  Yes, Chardonnay. Surprising, considering I usually avoid Blanc de Blancs wines, both French and Californian, like the plague.  But never say never.

Thanks for the invite 2B!

Skunkweed.

Such a winsome, little periwinkle-blue wild flower could not have a worse name - hello, skunkweed!  Yes, I found a new blue weed.  However, I discovered this little cutie, Navarretia squarrosa, not in Vinoland this time, but instead up at Berlenbach Vineyards, (all my other finds have been home-grown).  Also known as California stinkweed, I chanced upon this diminutive plant as I was taking a photograph of some old farm equipment.  Actually, I nearly didn't see the skunkweed at all because none of  the plants were taller than 4 inches in height.  And thankfully, seeing as I was so much taller than this tiny weed I didn't even have to smell it.  Phew, methinks.

Ten thousand saw I at a glance.

I don't really know if my guesstimate of the number of young Chardonnay vines waiting to be planted at the Berlenbach vineyard is correct, but let me just say that it certainly looks like there are 10,000 vines.  Of course, if I new how many acres are being replanted it would help with my calculations.
What I do know is that the folks at Far Niente have selected Chardonnay FPS 72 (on 3309 Courderc rootstock), a clone of Chardonnay that was donated to the FPS public selection at UC Davis by the Wente family (from a production block in the Arroyo Seco AVA, Monterey County).  I know this because I am nosey and I looked.  In fact, I gazed - and gazed, tee-hee.

Bye-bye, Berlenbach Vineyards.

The end of an era.  Today, Far Niente Winery, who lease quite a bit of land in the Coombsville AVA, bulldozed out the aged Chardonnay vines at Berlenbach Vineyards.  (This is the vineyard that UC Davis were not interested in owning.)  I climbed up to the top of Vinoland and watched as a Caterpillar D6 uprooted the vines and pushed them into huge, gnarled heaps.  Always sad to see.
Later in the afternoon, when the dust had all settled, Vinodog 2 and I took a stroll up to the vineyard to have a peep at what was going on.  It's a fabulous site, the soil seems to be of great quality - a gravelly loam (no tuff, like Vinoland), with wonderful western sun exposure.  Far Niente have already had the new Chardonnay vines delivered for the replanting.  In a fenced enclosure, with shade cloth for roofing, I'd estimate that 10,000+ green-growing bench-grafts await their moment in the sun.  Vinodog 2 and I introduced ourselves - after all, we will soon be watching their development, from Vinoland, on a daily basis.

Tuff stuff.

A small excavation in Vinoland has revealed a friendly, neighbourhood igneous rock (everybody should have one).  Tuff, or ash-fall tuff, is extremely variable in its chemical and mineralogical composition.  Vinoland's tuff happens to be extremely light in weight and texture, but there exists some historical references (The Structural and Industrial Materials of California, Bulletin No. 38, State Mining Bureau, 1906), to a brecciated tuff, mined just a mile or so from here, that "...for many years has been used for macadamizing the streets of Napa."  Now, that's tough stuff.
Tuff is a fine grained rock composed of volcanic ash which fell upon this part of the Napa Valley millions of years ago, (vulcanism reached the valley about 7 million years ago), which later hardened into beds of tuff.  Vinoland's tuff is really light in colour (it resembles diatomaceous earth in appearance, though it is denser), includes no clasts (volcanic detritus), rubs off on your fingers like chalk and is usually high in silica. 
Tuff is only found in a small area in the south end of Vinoland, (some Syrah is planted in it, tough stuff for a grapevine to deal with).  I know that at least one of our neighbours over the hill behind Vinoland has a large amount of it, but I don't know how extensive it is in the neighbourhood as a whole.  Some folks claim that the volcanic rock in the Napa Valley is responsible for certain characteristics in the grapes and resulting wine.  However, due to the huge diversity in the types of volcanic rock deposited in the length and breadth of the valley, I am of the opinion that there is little significance you can attribute to just one specific lithology.

American Independence Day, 2015.

Happy 239th birthday America.
I have only been back in Vinoland for about 41 hours and I'm already getting ready to attend my second Independence Day do.  Last night, I enjoyed some bubbling rosé at Phoenix Ranch Vineyards whilst catching up with friends and watching the 3rd of July firework display at Silverado County Club.  And in just a few hours time I will join even more of my colonial cousins for a festive afternoon of patriotic merrymaking - hopefully washed down with more bubbles.  Problem is, I'm feeling particularly English right now.  But Vinodog 2 wanted to wish a happy 4th of July to all.
God bless America.
Oh...and God save the Queen!

Last night wine.

Goodbye Blighty, 2015.
That's it, my holiday at home has come to a close.  A trip to the beach; a nice meal with all my family; a lovely English white wine.  What a wonderful last day of my stay.
This bottle of Denbies, 2013 English White Lily, which I purchased in Marks & Spencer for £10.00, was delightful.  Although I would have liked a tad more acid, this white blend of Chardonnay, Müller-Thurgau and Seyval blanc was a real hit at dinner.
California here I come.

Deva 2.

Today, like last November, Thud and I took a quick drive over to Chester.  The weather was absolutely gorgeous, so after we had done some of the usual things that we have always done when we visit Chester - have a coffee, visit my favourite wine shop, walk on some of the Roman wall - we stopped in the Roman Garden for a sit in the sun.  The garden is really a mishmash of  broken columns, pieces of  stonework and a reconstructed hypocaust that were all relocated from various other parts of the city centre.
There are always classes of school children on field-trips in the garden, and other places around town, learning about the Roman way of life.  At the back of this photograph you can see one such school group being put through their paces by a young legionary who is wielding a rather large sword.  I have to say the costumes the actors wear look rather good, albeit to my untrained eye.  However, when we were walking back along the river to the car another legionary passed us and he was holding a metal-capped, wooden staff in his hand.  "Wrong," Thud said, "he should be carrying a vitis."  Indeed, a vine-stick would have been more authentic.  Sin, sin, sin, dex, sin...

El Greco.

I don't always remember to try a wine varietal that has piqued my interest in some way in the past, but whilst out buying groceries with Thud in Sainsbury's today I saw an interesting bottle of wine.  Having seen baby Greco di Tufo grapevines growing last month, I just had to try this wine.
This 2012 Greco di Tufo, Campania (DOCG) was really quite nice; fragrant - herbs and pineapple, nicely balanced - good mouth feel and acid, paired nicely with dinner - salmon and salad.  Coming from a supermarket, it may not be the best Greco di Tufo ever made (however, I have nothing to compare it with), but I would buy it again.  Maybe on my next holiday.

The Great British Barbecue.

Absolutely not one single person in England barbecued when I was a kid, but nowadays it seems that just about everybody does.  I find it a rather strange phenomenon given the awfully unpredictable weather in Blighty.  Barbecuing was just something Australians did. 
Today I experienced my first ever this-side-of-the-pond BBQ.  And the weather cooperated, well, for the most part.  However, it was a distinctly English affair.  Yes, there were plenty of burgers and pizzas, which paired well with a fabulous Black Cat Vineyards, 2010 Howell Mountain Zinfandel, but the pork and Bramley apple hotdogs were my favourite.  Yum!  Dessert, kindly provided by Tenbellies, was Eton Mess (a traditional English dessert that did indeed originate at Eton College), washed down with a mug of Earl Grey.  Double yum!

Perry refreshing.

I am enjoying my hols.  The weather has been pleasant the past few days (shocker!) and, as a result, the evenings have been quite mild.  A few evenings ago, I decided I wanted something refreshing to drink in the way of an adult beverage, so I raided Thud's fridge.  And it just so happens that Thud had been shopping for something he thought I might like.  Good lad. 
Rekorderlig sparkling pear cider, with passion fruit, is actually what in England we would call a perry.  Perry has been popular in England for centuries and is made from specific pear cultivars - much in the same way that cider is made from apples.  But it isn't cider, is it?  It is perry.  Regretfully, the name perry is increasingly being discarded in favour of the label pear cider in the apparent campaign to dumb down society further and save people from bothering to have to learn a new word (and, God forbid, some history and geography).
In theory it all sounded quite delicious until Tenbellies, my sister-in-law's sister, said that she had had the passion fruit Rekorderlig before and it was lovely.  Thud was immediately sceptical.  He has a long-running joke with Tenbellies about her questionable choice of alcoholic drinks.  The brand name Lambrini - a perry which, despite its Italian sounding moniker, is actually made in Liverpool - was bandied about in jest.  In all honesty, Tenbellies doesn't really drink, so with its fruity character I could see how the Rekorderlig perry, with only 4% alcohol, might appeal to the casual drinker.  But it wasn't even a particularly good rendition of a perry - very low acid and the passion fruit component wasn't very passion-fruity.  Oh well, I still have a passion fruit yoghurt to try.

A problematic peregrination.

After the journey from hell, which I don't even want to think about, I am finally at home with my family.  Phew! 
A good cup of Earl Grey made me feel a bit better.  And a second cup made me feel a bit cosier, because it's not exactly warm here.  It doesn't matter about the weather though, I'm home.

Get back...

...to where I once belonged, Part 7.
A quick mug of Earl Grey before I head east, away from Vinoland: my next mug of Earl Grey will be in Blighty.  Yes, it is time to head off home once again.  I'm excited.
I will try to post on Vinsanity whilst I'm on my hols, but I'm not promising anything.
Get back JoJo!

Fresh and fizzy.

And speaking of Vinho Verde.  I just recently tried, what was for me, a new Vinho Verde.  The Broadbent, NV Vinho Verde (DOC), was a very nice tipple for $5.99 - fresh, bright, lemony-limey with a hint of Golden Delicious apple - I really enjoyed it with grilled salmon.
Eponymously named after Bartholomew Broadbent, son of English wine critic Michael Broadbent, this Vinho Verde is produced from Loureiro, Trajadura and Arinto grapes sourced from contract growers.  I purchased this wine, on sale, in a local supermarket for $5.70 a week ago - I noticed today that it was $6.99.  Is it worth it?  Yes, and no.  I can procure a bottle of Gazela Vinho Verde for $3.99 in a different supermarket and it is actually a slightly better wine, so I'm going to stick with the Gazela, (as every time I drink it I am reminded of how much I like it).  The Broadbent was very nice though.

It's the real thing.

Cork, that is.  Or, to be exact, composite corks.
Today was a bottling day in Vinoland.  The St. Helena Sots arrived bright and early and the clone 7 Cabernet sauvignon was unbarreled, bottled and corked in the blink of an eye.  At least I think it was.  I was away running errands, (too many cooks blah, blah), and buying some victuals for the after-party.  Fun!
The cork of choice for this bottling event was a disc-cork.  A disc-cork has a solid, natural cork disc on each end with a conglomerate of natural, squished cork in between.  Disc-corks are an inexpensive option for corking wines that are meant to be consumed within three years. What, three years?  Believe me, this wine will last no where near three years around the St. Helena Sots.  Tee-hee!
Speaking of natural cork...I have been getting a butt load (technical term) of emails recently from folks requesting that I post this and that on my blog.  I read some of them, but I generally just delete them.  One recent email, that did catch my eye, was about the resurgence of natural cork as the preferred bottle closure amongst wine-consumers.  The aim of the email was to educate me about the high percentage of  "quality" wines on the planet that employ natural cork, versus those that use cork alternatives (and the consumer's preference for natural cork over synthetics and screw-caps).   As to be expected, perhaps, the email was from, for want of a better word, a lobbyist for the cork industry.  That's alright, I tend to prefer natural cork myself...except when the wine in question is a fun, young white (think a Vinho Verde), and then screw-caps are the perfect closure.  No corkscrew necessary!

Rust never sleeps.

Rust never sleeps?  Neither do I this time of year, or at least it feels like that.  Today, Vinomaker and I decided to clean out the irrigation lines: it was time for the grapevines to get their first watering of the season.
Each row in the vineyard has its own irrigation line and each line has a cap and valve at the end. Working at either end of the rows, Vinomaker and I flushed water through each of the lines to clear out anything that may have accumulated in the lines since the vines were last watered in October of last year.  (Also, every emitter along the irrigation lines are checked for blockages and replaced if necessary.)  And because we are on a well in Vinoland, the accumulation-culprit is always ferrous iron.  Well, the water in the lines was ferrous (completely dissolved) when it went in, but, as you can see in the photograph, it comes out as ferric (no longer dissolved).  Hello, oxidation.
Making up about 5% of the earth’s crust, iron is one of the earth’s most common elements. Although present even in city/tap water, iron is seldom found at concentrations greater than 10 mg/l.  As little as 0.3 mg/l can cause water to turn a rusty colour.  But it's a great colour.  
The Pinot grigio vines didn't care about the colour of the water, they just enjoyed their long, cool drink.

Young wine?

A very young 2015 vintage, tee hee.  All the grapevines in Vinoland got off to a very good start this spring and for the most part flowering is now at an end.  Fruit set in the Pinot grigio looks fabulous and I'm very happy with how things are progressing.  I still have lots of shoot-stuffing to do in the Cabernet sauvignon vines, but after that things in the vineyard will slow down quite considerably and I'll have a bit of time to myself.  Until it's time to start the next vineyard operation, or two.

A little book of horrors.

I am always looking for good viticulture reference books and my brand new copy of Vitibook just happens to be a great one.  Written by Diego Barison et al., Vitibook was actually published last year, however, I only just learnt about it.  I had contacted Glenn McCourty, who is a Viticulture & Plant Science Advisor at the U.C. Davis Cooperative Extension for Lake and Mendocino counties (on the advice of wine columnist Dan Berger), to ask if he knew of any published data on Vitis clonal selections that are available to the grapegrower.  And yes, he did.
Vitibook is a little gem of a book out of Italy that is just perfect for a vino-geek like me.  The book is very thorough in its coverage of grapevine morphology and phenology and it includes interesting statistical data about grape-growing regions around the world.  The section on clones is informative and is exactly what I was looking for.  It is the horrifyingly graphic chapters on grapevine diseases and pests that really make this book worth owning.  Replete with full colour photographs that document all sorts of grape maladies and creepy-crawlies, it is a small wonder that anyone would ever decide to develop a vineyard at all.  Frightening.
Vitibook is a wonderful addition to my modest collection of all-things-grapey-reference books.