Poke-a-dots.

 

I used to blame the appearance of the lurid purple splodges that show up on my car this time of year on birds bingeing on ripening Syrah grapes and then dumping their highly pigmented excreta onto my unsuspecting vehicle's paint-job.  I now know that the source of the purple-black splatter is instead courtesy of my feathered friends scoffing down the berries of Common Pokeweed (Phytolacca americana).
In the southern states, young pokeweed shoots are prepared and consumed as a vegetable despite the fact that the plant contains, amongst other harmful compounds, oxalates that can be fatally toxic to humans.  Also known as inkberry this is a relatively tall plant, much taller than me, whose foliage has a rather objectionable pong.
Thank goodness there is only one pokeweed growing in Vinoland, otherwise there would be no room for vines, dogs or anything else for that matter.  And I can't imagine what else would get peppered by poop!

A racy tasting.

Week 6 and my taste buds are aching!
Eastern Europe was the destination of my Wines of the World class tonight.  I, somewhat stoically I might add, tasted my way through the wines of Georgia, Ukraine, Croatia, Serbia, Romania, Hungary, Bulgaria and Moldova.  Oh, and Israel - 21 wines in all.
Some of the wines were quite nice, for instance, a 2006 Yarden Merlot hailing from the Golan Heights region of Israel was rather decent.  Some of the wines were truly awful, here, a special mention has to be given to Serbian producer Rubin ad Krusevac for two of their wines, Czarina Milica and Czar Lazar, both non-vintage reds.  The highlight of the evening for me was a 2007 Royal Tokaji Aszú 5 Puttonyos - smooth, unctuous and just plain delicious. Interestingly, the evening's wine selection also featured a 2010 light, dry white table wine from producer Olympia, which was made from the Furmint grape variety, a grape more famous for being the botrytised grape that goes into Tokaji's dessert wines.  This easy drinking white was pleasingly palatable.
I and my fellow students really had to race our way through the Eastern Bloc as the first 30 minutes of tonight's session featured a special presentation of some methode traditionnelle champenoise bubbles from the Lombardy region of Italy.  Paul Wagner, an instructor at NVC and owner of Balzac Communications, has amongst his clients the sparkling winemakers of Franciacorta. With all the oily glibness of a used car salesman, Mr. Wagner took us on a fuel-injected, Ferrari-like, PowerPoint aided tour of the Franciacorta region, it's people and it's wines - including a speed-tasting of four wines.  Twee comparisons of Renault automobiles and Champagne versus Lamborghinis and Franciacorta were thrown about with reckless abandon.  It was all a bit too much, but I must admit I did find a Berlucchi 2008 Brut Rosé to be a very, very nicely put together wine, followed by a La Montina NV Brut.
Next...

Move over California.

I just couldn't do it.  I could not limit myself to only drinking California wines this month.  I've gone Français, yet again.
California Wine Month 2012 has been a non-starter.  What had the potential of being a great marketing tool for California wines fizzled and sputtered into oblivion.  This blog was perhaps one of only a few places to even mention California Wine Month's existence.  The whole concept was generally met with great apathy the few times I brought it up in conversation with various folk.  I won't bother mentioning it next year.  So jettisoning my well meant intentions, I reverted to imbibing in an old favourite rosé when I was craving something pink the other night.
The 2011 Château Routas Rouvière is a blend of 45% Cinsault, 35% Grenache and 20% Syrah.  With a pleasing aroma of red currant, pear and fresh mint leaves this really is just a wonderful wine.  At 13% alcohol and with wonderfully balanced acidity I treated myself to 2 glasses.  And to be had for the paltry sum of $9.07 at BevMo it was a steal.
Yum!

Once more unto the breach.

Yes, it's that time of year again.  A gorgeous autumnal day, albeit a slightly longer and busier day than anticipated, heralded the beginning of the 2012 harvest in Vinoland.  A day that saw Vinogirl and the Vinodogs in all their gloriously, sticky foolishness.  And Vinomaker happily employing his new Zambelli destemmer.
All good fun!

Happy Autumn.

Today is the autumnal equinox.
I don't usually like to participate in an England versus USA spat, but I really, really dislike the word fall - it's so infantile.
Fear not little Orange Muscat grapes, you may look a little worse for wear, (but you taste great) for tomorrow we pick.

Sprechen sie wein?

It's week 5 of my Wines of the World class.  Tonight found me and my fellow students traipsing through the cool-climate vineyards of Austria and Germany.  With 17 wines being poured again this session, I had some exploring to do.  After allowing myself a brief, internal titter in reminiscing about the Austrian wine industry's diethylene glycol scandal of 1985, I immersed myself in the task at hand.  It's a tough job but somebody's got to do it!

Even though these two countries more or less share the same language, I found the wines of Austria and Germany to be quite different, at least that is what seemed to be the case in the sampling of Teutonic wines being offered.  You don't have to be conversant in the lingo to understand German weins although one particular German word did keep popping into my mind.  Not surprisingly, that word was zucker.
Overall, the German wines displayed just a tad too much sweetness for my palate.  I did however enjoy a Mönchhof 2009 Spätlese Riesling which showed a perspicaciously finessed balance of sugar and acid.  My favourite wine of the evening turned out to be Austrian, a Laurenz 2011 Grüner Veltliner which was clean and fresh with a subtle white peachy-spiciness.  And it was dry.

Next...

Just desserts?

I spent yesterday performing some odds and ends in the vineyard operations department - sugar-testing and field-budding - but today I spent a little time in the oenology department - bottling Vinoland's small batch of 2011 late harvest Orange Muscat.
This little pet-project of Vinomaker's has resulted in a very agreeable late harvest tipple (as opposed to a dessert wine).  It is a well balanced marriage of sugar and acid that is not in the least syrupy, or cloying, as one might expect of a wine with residual sugar.  Instead, this wine is fresh and lively with a distinct aroma of, well, orange blossom - fancy that!  We decided to put it in 375 ml  bottles...a little goes a long way.

Condrieu.

I lied.  I drank something other than a Californian wine last night. Couldn't help myself.  With all this talk of my Wines of the World class I just felt I had to go Français with dinner.  
My favourite winemaker, that'd be Vinomaker, is a huge Viognier fan and had recently procured a single bottle of (long story) a Mathilde et Yves Gangloff, 2010 Condrieu. Vinomaker has been dying to try this wine for a while, but our schedules have been hectic. Finally, last night the stars aligned and the time was ripe for our Condrieu event.  Wow! What a great wine. Luscious, ultimately very drinkable, apricots and creamy-custard loveliness, all in all very typically Viognier.
I can't imagine any of the students in my class turning their noses up at this little fruitily-aromatic marvel, or describing it as too thin or too acidic.  I would think they'd at least recognise the new and slightly excessive cooperage on the bouquet which, in my estimation, is this splendid wine's only (minor) flaw.

Whines of the World.

My ears hurt!  And it's only week 4 of my class.
One would think that after tasting 17 wines, selections from the Loire Valley and the Alsace region of France, that Vinogirl would have been feeling no pain.  On the contrary.  After a couple of hours of listening to my fellow classmates bemoan the fact that the French wines we were tasting were 'thin,' 'under-ripe,' 'acidic' and ultimately 'not fruity enough', I was feeling a little battered in the hearing department.  Let me translate for the reader: what they were really saying was that the wines weren't Californian.  And there in lies a bit of a problem when one is taking a Wines of the World class.
My goodness.  I can't imagine what they'll say when the class ventures further north into Germany.
Next...

Just because 7...

...Today would have been my grandmother's 109th birthday.  My brother, Thud, posted this picture on his blog.  It is a photograph of the tenements in Liverpool city centre where my grandparents began their married life.  I fondly recall my gran's fabulous stories about all the Irish-Catholic immigrant families - with a smattering of Italians thrown in (for a little spice).  My gran was a great storyteller.
I still think of my grandmother nearly every day.

Sugar-o-meter.

Today, I decided to test the sugar in Vinoland's grapes.  So I got out my trusty refractometer and off I went in search of sucrose. Measured in degrees Brix, one can ascertain with a refractometer the volume of sugar, a percentage by weight, in an aqueous solution - in this case grape juice. Primarily, I wanted to know how advanced the Pinot grigio grapes were. I knew they were tasting pretty nice, but who am I to gauge whether or not they are ready to harvest by taste alone. The Pinot grigio came in at, a rather surprising, 24.6 degrees.  Erm, Vinomaker, I think we ought to put some thought into harvesting here soonish. However, the Pinot grigio's seeds were not fully brown, so a little more physiological maturity is needed - that'd be hang time.
With 2010 and 2011 being such cool vintages, one could be forgiven for thinking that harvest was still a way off.  But this growing season has been nigh on perfect and all the different grape varieties in Vinoland seem to be maturing at a more normal rate. The Cabernet Sauvignon weighed in at 18.6 degrees and the Syrah was at 19.6 - both varieties' seeds were still partially green. Whilst the Cabernet Sauvignon still displayed the expected vegetal character associated with this variety the Syrah tasted simply marvelous. The 2012 vintage holds such great promise.

Dr. Dick.

Another person who I'd like to give credit to for trying to help me identify the common flax flower recently is, Dr. Richards P. Lyon. Dr. Dick, as he is known around these parts, is a weekly contributor to the Napa Valley Register's  'Home & Garden' section in the capacity of their wild flower expert.  I look forward to Dr. Dick's column every Saturday and I was sad to see that this week's piece is his last for the season.  Whilst Dr. Dick was unable to help with a definitive ID of the flax, he did inspire me to get off my backside and finally find out, once and for all, just what my mystery weed was.
Dr. Dick himself wrote about this specific weed, pictured above, a few weeks back.  Birdsfoot trefoil (Lotus corniculatus) has been spotted two years in a row in Vinoland and exists in a particularly arid part of the property.  The small amount of foliage that exists is rather insignificant, understandable giving the growing conditions, and is now mostly buried due to gopher activity.  But it is the perfectly formed  flower that draws my eye to this little, yellow beauty.
Dr. Dick and I have been trading emails and wildflower photographs for the past few weeks.  The good doctor happened to mention that he had sort of been André Tchelistcheff's unofficial, personal physician towards the end of the pioneering Napa winemaker's life.  I wonder if Dr. Dick would let me pick his brain on this subject - I feel another installment of my True Wine Lover series coming on.

Teacher's pet.

What's that "giant sucking sound" I hear?  It's the sound of me kissing-up (i.e. what the school-age Vinogirl would have called a suckhole), to my college professor, Dr. Krebs.  Knowing that we would be tasting grapes from the student vineyard in class tonight, I channeled my inner sycophant and decided to take some July Muscat (JM) table grapes along to class with me.  The budwood for my JM came from a table grape demonstration section in the college's student vineyard.  Sadly, that section of the vineyard is no longer in existence, so I thought it would be nice to reacquaint my professor with his babies.
The other grapes we tasted were slip-skin varieties; Golden Muscat (a complex hybrid) and Concord (Vitis labrusca), both grown as demonstration vines on the walls of the tractor shed at the college.  The point in tasting these two grapes was to identify certain flavours - the linalool character of the Golden Muscat and the foxy character of the V. labrusca.  We then went on to taste Cabernet Sauvignon (Vitis vinifera) grapes, grinding the skins between our teeth for the astringency and grinding the seeds for the oily bitterness.   After the professor asked me to give the back-story on the JM (also V. vinifera), the class again tasted for the linalool character which this time was a little more pronounced than in the Golden Muscat.
Just a little off true ripeness, my JM grapes showed very well and looked the picture of grapey-goodness.  JM is considered to be an heirloom variety of table grapes, because one would never find this grape in supermarkets nowadays as consumers prefer seedless grapes.  JM would indeed ripen closer to July in California's hot and arid Central Valley - it's ripening is just a little retarded in the relative chill of the Napa Valley.
Extra credit, anyone?

California Wine Month 2012.

Happy Labor Day!
California's Governor Moonbeam has once again proclaimed September as California Wine Month.  Yes, the great state of California - once described as "the world's largest outdoor mental asylum" - is promoting a  month long celebration of all things fruits and nuts, well, specifically wine-grapes.  I did my bit last night and kicked off the festivities by imbibing in a home-grown and homemade 2006 Syrah.  I'll be drinking nothing but California wine all month - except in my wine class, as academia trumps wine-marketing every time.  Now, kind readers, do your bit and keep Vinogirl gainfully employed.
Cheers!

Interloper.

One of these things is not like the others.  Not that I'm a control freak, but the problem with bench grafts is that this kind of thing can happen:  a white amongst the almost-whites.  If I had been responsible for the grafting of scion to root stock, when Vinomaker and I decided to increase our Pinot grigio block, this type of thing wouldn't have happened.  I want my money back.

What's in a name?

Speaking of all things worldly and winey.  I am quite happy to be an Englishwoman, with an Irish surname, living in the USA.  So I can't help but wonder why Mr. Sattui isn't happy being plain, old, American Daryl.
(Public Notice courtesy of The Napa Valley Register, 30th August 2012)

Wines of the World.

Although tonight was the second session of my Wines of the World class, it was the first time the class participated in a wine-tasting en masse.
I can't really say I tasted anything memorable, as this session concentrated on variations in grape varieties, vineyard locations and winemaking methods.  However, I can say that I tasted a particular wine that is the butt of many jokes:  Sutter Home, White Zinfandel.  So I especially enjoyed it when the instructor reminded the class that White Zinfandel is not a grape variety in itself.  Oh, how I guffawed!
Instead, tonight's class was an introduction into how to taste wine and was probably a good refresher for all the wine industry people present, myself included.  For instance, how important it is when smelling wine to distinguish between the aroma of the fruit and the bouquet of the winemaking.  Besides, I'd just dropped my family off at SFO and I wasn't really in the mood for wine-tasting.

Just the flax, ma'am.

After about 16 months, and a lot of pestering of different people, I finally have a positive ID on one of the most winsome, diminutive periwinkle-blue flowered weeds I have ever seen.  I had consulted many books and scoured the internet trying to identify this mystery weed, that has grown the last two years in a ditch alongside a neighbours property, but to no avail.  Then a friend suggested I contact John Roncoroni at the UC Davis extension in Napa.  Mr. Roncoroni who is a Weed Science Farm Advisor couldn't help directly, but was kind enough to forward my email on to two wildflower experts at UC Davis:  Ellen Dean and Joe DiTomaso.  Mr. DiTomaso co-wrote Weeds Of California and Other Western States (UC Publication 3488), which is the book on all things weedy in my opinion. Within 45 minutes, Ms. Dean had emailed back myself and Mr. Roncoroni with the ID of this elusive wildflower, which turned out to be not so wild after all - common flax.
Lincum usitatissimum is an annual plant with slender stems arching from a main stem that can reach up to 3 feet in height.  Of the Linaceae family, flax is a widely cultivated plant whose fibres are used in textile production.  High concentrations of Omega 3 fatty acids in flax seed make the plant beneficial to human health and linseed oil extracted from the seed can be useful to carpenters. Flax seed is also widely integrated into animal feeds, which may explain the fact that I found the plant growing in a ditch next to a horse barn.  So flax is a bit of a multi-tasker - apparently Usitatissimum means very useful.
So there you have it.  No more sleepless nights for me spent worrying over this little plant's name (I really need to get a life), thanks to Roncoroni and Dean. The plant itself has now gone to seed. I am hoping it will make a reapperance, same time, same place, next year.  Cute flower.

Pegged for success.

I spent the afternoon in the vineyard securing the bird netting, that was applied last Sunday, closely around the fruit on the Pinot grigio vines with common-or-garden clothes pegs.  That should keep my pesky, feathered friends away from the ripening grapes, which incidently are tasting rather sweet already.
Did I ever think years ago, when I was a little girl helping my mother hang clothes out on the clothes line, that I would ever find such a use for the humble peg?  Nope.

Apple sauce.

Whilst Vinomaker practices the art of winemaking here in the Napa Valley, my brother Thud dabbles with the production of dry cider and, most recently, Calvados at home in England. But for arguments sake, let's call it apple brandy because Liverpool isn't in France.  Double distilled from cider Thud made last October, using six vintage apple varieties, the resulting brandy is very rustic in more of a fermier calvados fashion.
Beginning last February, Thud and his cohort Monkey began the first fractional distillation of the cider down to it's elemental character in brandy form, which may or may not have been entirely legal.  The resulting eau de vie, or White Lightning as Vinomaker dubbed it, is pretty crude and raw and a startling 120 proof (second from the left in the photo: the first glass is Pere Magloire).  Diluted with water to about 90 proof, and with the addition of the back-ins or feints, the second distillation refined the brandy down to something more palatable.  Then a couple of months ago, Thud took a portion of the clear brandy and added oven-toasted oak chips which imbued the youthful brandy with a pleasing golden colour and a nutty-toasty nose (second from the right in the photo).  Monkey, on the other hand, experimented with toasted oak shavings (increased surface area) and only aged the mixture for about three weeks, yikes!  This particular oak treatment gave the brandy a deep tawny colouration and a strong charcoal nose (pictured on the right).
Of course, the entire process is a little more complicated than I am going to cover here, e.g. ensuring no methanol is collected is important - or blindness may occur.  All in all, not too shoddy for a first attempt. Actually aging the apple brandy for several years, and perhaps the utilisation of a small oak barrel, will definitely improve the drinking experience.
On another note, I started a new semester at Napa Valley College this evening.  I am taking a wine appreciation class called Wines of the World with my favourite teacher of all time, Dr. Stephen Krebs.  So stay tuned for weekly global wine discoveries.