One last hurrah!

It is autumn isn't it?  This young Pinot grigio vine doesn't seem to think so.  Working in the vineyard this afternoon, removing clothes-pegs in preparation for removing the bird-netting, I looked up to see this shoot (which has 5-6 inch tendrils a little further down) reaching for the sun.  And sunny it is.  And warm.  It hasn't been below 66° F all week.  I'm loving it.
Now, young vines tend to remain a tad more enthusiastic later into the season than their more mature row-mates, but this is a little unusual for this far along in the year.  Grapevine shoots do not form a terminal bud like some plants, so technically they may continue to grow if there is sufficient heat (yup), available nutrients (apparently so) and adequate soil moisture (questionable).  However, with the onset of veraison a shoot's apical meristem dies back because now there in a new source-sink (point of usage) in town - the sugar hungry cluster.  I did cut the fruit off this vine quite early on in the season, so evidently it took it upon itself to redirect it's photosynthates.  Very enterprising of it, but it isn't half going to be surprised when we get our first frost.  Ouch!

Paper delivery.

Vinomaker is always bringing something interesting home, in the wine department, for me to try - the Paperboy, 2012 Red Blend was no exception.  But Paperboy turned out to be interesting for the packaging only, not the contents.  Read all about it, here.
Truett-Hurst Inc., a wine company up in Healdsburg, released what they are heralding as, "The World's First Paper Wine Bottle."  Well, that may well be the case, and whilst I applaud their valiant attempts at lessening the weight of a case of wine, (I can hear a sigh of relief from thousands of peeps whose jobs involve schlepping around cases of wine), shouldn't the contents of the bottle, paper or otherwise, outshine the packaging?  Just a thought.  Now, whilst I didn't bother to taste the Chardonnay, I did blind-taste the red blend. 
Without knowing anything at this point about the uniqueness of this wine's packaging, I stuck my nose into my glass to get a good, deep whiff.  Up front I got a spicy red-berry thing that was quite appealing at first, but it didn't last.  The wine quickly started to smell slightly pruney and hot, as in high alcohol hot.  On the palate the wine was thin to medium bodied, had a Zinfandel-fruity character, with a touch of flabbiness.  Not very good.  Ultimately, Paperboy tasted like a hastily put together blend of any barrel-dregs that were left over after all the tasty wine had been bottled: uninteresting and simply vinous. 
I won't be subscribing to Paperboy wines any time soon.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!
I hope today that every last person I know takes some time to unwind, spend time with loved ones, eat some good food and, of course, drink some delicious wine.  Cheers!
Disclaimer:  This wine was not consumed, it was just a prop used by a trained, professional wino.

The leaves have taken their leave.

After two days of rain (the first of the season, really) and 24 hours of unusually high winds (sustained wind speeds topping 40 mph, with gusts up to 69 mph), I should have known better than to expect a relaxing breakfast this sunny, but still windy Friday morning.  "Would you like more coffee," says Vinomaker, "and by the way, there are 3 deer in the vineyard."  What??? 
Now it's not like deer can do any damage in the vineyard this time of year, but they are still a nuisance.  The vines, that were full of yellowing leaves on Monday, are practically naked after suffering through so much weather the past 72 hours.  There is absolutely nothing in Vinoland for the deer to munch on this time of year.
Initially, we thought the deer had entered through one of Vinoland's front gates.  The wind was so strong last night that the larger of the two gates had been blown off it's tracks, which left ample space on either side that the two does and one yearling could have easily stepped through.  After a few, unsuccessful, attempts at trying to encourage the interlopers to exit Vinoland through the other, now open, gate, the deer led Vinomaker to where they had actually sneaked into the vineyard. 
Timber!  A neighbour's pine tree on our fence line had blown over.  In the process it had peeled open a 6' by 4' hole in our deer fence where, even now, there were more deer standing about contemplating also visiting Vinoland.  I don't think so.  Actually, our unfortunate neighbour had a second tree topple over just outside his backdoor.  He's a lucky man.  Or, isn't.  I expect I'll be hearing a lot of dueling chainsaws this weekend.

If I had a hammer.

So I was thinking further on how the folks at Mer Soleil produce their Silver Chardonnay.  Much is made of how Silver is fermented in "small Nomblot cement tanks" (they've even gone to the trouble of screen printing an egg on the back of the bottle to illustrate this fact).  And Silver is packaged in a ceramic bottle that they say, "continues to preserve the bright, fresh fruit characters" of the wine, I was curious as to whether or not the inside of the bottle was glazed.  Would an unglazed interior continue the whole cement/ceramic/oxygen-aging thingy?  One way to find out...enter Vinomaker with a hammer, (but not before the Vinodogs donned their safety glasses, of course).  One good whack later and the bottle's insides were laid bare.  The inside of the bottle was glazed (with extra glazing in the neck area, no doubt to ensure a cork slips in and out with ease).  There you have it: make of it what you will because I am done thinking about this wine.
Disclaimer:  No normal glass bottles were harmed in the smashing open of this ceramic one.

...And silver fountains mud.

Until Caymus Vineyards were sued by Napa County, and the amount of wine they actually produce was revealed, most folks, that I have at least spoken to about wine over the years, considered Caymus to be a premium, family owned winery. (For family owned here, read exclusive and small production, that's the common perception).  The details of the lawsuit, made public this past August, revealed that Caymus bottled 830,000 cases of wine in 2012: some 788,000 cases in excess of their use permit which allows for a mere 42,000 cases to be bottle per annum.  Talk about having your cover blown!  I was shocked upon hearing this, after all Caymus is the winery that gave us Special Selection, a wine that frequently scores high with wine critics (don't get me started on scoring).  Really just how special is Special Selection?  In all fairness, under the Wagner Family of Wine, the makers of Special Selection also produce several other wine labels.  Which brings me to a particular Chardonnay I tried recently.
The Mer Soleil, 2011 Silver Chardonnay (Santa Lucia Highlands), is an unoaked Chardonnay.  In fact it is fermented, and aged, in stainless steel and small Nomblot cement tanks.  Then it is bottled in a stone bottle, or as the winery's website puts it, "...unique ceramic bottle is reminiscent of the cement fermenters."  Okay.  Overall, the producers have a very lofty opinion of this wine.  "We believe that the Santa Lucia Highlands appellation in Monterey County is the best appellation in the world for producing Chardonnay."  Of course they would say that, wouldn't they?  But I'm thinking they'd lose an argument, and badly, with the growers of, oh I dunno, let's say Corton-Charlemagne.  Just saying.
Anyway, back to the wine.  I can't began to describe my experience with this wine.  The nose had something a little tropical going on, but it was sort of a clumsy jumble of over ripe fruit.  On the palate I got a sweet-mystery-fruit, hay-baley, briny-flabbiness that sort of flapped around my mouth like a floundering fish.  Briny?  Floundering fish?  Maybe thoughts of la mer were muddying my tasting experience because, in the end, my poor palate was just so confused.  However, I am going to give this wine the benefit of the doubt and I'm going to say that perhaps this was just a bad bottle...because I can't for the life of me believe that the folks at Caymus/Mer Soleil intended the wine to taste this way.  At least I hope not. 
The moral of this tasting?  Not every bottle has a silver lining - and this bottle isn't even recyclable.  Utterly confounding!

American nightshade.

Working outside this afternoon, doing nothing of particular import except enjoying the fresh air, I was easily distracted when V2 happened by and flushed a grey fox out from a clump of blackberries, adjacent to the Pinot grigio vines, where it was apparently having an afternoon nap.  Always ready to indulge my little terrier mix in any canine-caper she chooses, I joined in hot pursuit of the fox across the creek, behind an oak tree, where it disappeared into another clump of blackberries.  Oh well.  It was then that I spotted a couple of nightshade plants growing at my feet. 
The American nightshade (Solanum americanum) reappears in the same spot beside the creek, next to the pokeweed, every year.  The nightshade is a rather winsome little plant; it's flowers are very pretty; it's immature berries are very shiny and green; it's mature berries are even shinier and black.  These plants can be toxic to animals and humans when ingested as they contain glycoalkaloids, including solanine which can also be found in sprouting potatoes.  However, the degree of toxicity varies depending upon plant population, plant maturity and environmental conditions.  And whether or not a certain little black and white dog's belly is full because she, perhaps, already dined upon a certain Mr. Basil Brush.  Boom! Boom!

Decline in the vine.

Although tourists may enjoy seeing red leaves on grapevines this time of year, red leaves are not normal and are, in fact, an indication that something is wrong with the vine. Several problems can cause red leaf symptoms in grapevines.  For example, red leaves are one symptom of Syrah Decline (SD), but they are not the only symptom.  And certainly, Syrah is not the only variety to show red leaves.
Several of Vinoland's Syrah vines display varying levels of red colouration in their dying leaves in the autumn.  (Curiously, there are fewer vines displaying redness this year than previous years.)  In the above photograph, the yellowing vine on the right is shutting down correctly - from green the leaves turn yellow, then brown, then drop to the ground - the reddening vine is shutting down not so correctly.  I needed to take a closer look, so out to the vineyard I went. A quick once over of this vine revealed, or not, as the case may be, a few things to me.
The culprit could be SD (more commonly referred to as Syrah Disorder in California), a syndrome that is said to affect particular clones of Syrah more than others.  The graft union of this particular Syrah vine shows no evidence of cracking or pitting (which are two symptoms of SD).  In fact, I'd have to say this particular vine has the prettiest of graft unions.
It can't be Leafroll disease as there is no evidence of, well, leafroll.
It isn't Fanleaf Degeneration as the leaves show no signs of deformation - as in looking like a fan.
Could it be Pierce's Disease (caused by the bacterium Xylella fastidiosa)?  Well, there is some leaf scorching, and there are a few petioles that have remained attached to the cane after the leaf blade has separated, but this vine shows no other symptoms.  No stunted shoot growth - this particular vine has shoots that are up to 8 feet in length.  No raisining of fruit - the vine supported a fantastic crop this year.
So, in conclusion, I don't know what is wrong with this vine.  If I really wanted to know what was going on I could have the tissue tested.  Then again, I could not.  Perhaps it is a hitherto unknown pest...that'd just be my luck. Ho hum.

A blotch on the landscape.

Just a quick post.  It's Monday night and I'm tired.
The Oakville Winegrowers held a meeting, late this afternoon, at TWWIAGE.  On the agenda was a presentation by Dr. James Stamp on Grapevine Red Blotch-associated Virus.  Commonly referred to simply as Red Blotch, this is a fairly new grapevine virus (unexplained disease symptoms were first categorised in 2007, in Oakville) that may have dire economic ramifications for commercial growers and wineries.  And to be quite honest, nobody really knows much of anything about this virus.  For example, it is thought that possible vectors of the disease are leafhoppers, or whiteflies, but the research is ongoing.
The photograph shows a sampling of the handiwork of some of the participating wineries.  Yes, the meeting had a rather serious tone, but that didn't stop the attendees from tasting the goods.  It was quite a who's who of Oakville.  I just hope that none of these vineyards are infected with Red Blotch already.  Yikes.
I'll be attending a seminar on Red Blotch later in the month, so hopefully I'll learn a little bit more about this disease.  Stay tuned.

Selección Victoria.

In 2009, according to the Napa County Ag Commissioner, there were only 302 producing acres of Malbec growing in the entire county.  Malbec, more famous nowadays for it's success in Argentina, is not a widely produced single varietal wine in Napa, although there are a few notable producers, including Antinori and St. Supéry.  This particular Malbec, the Herrera, 2009 Selección Victoria, is perhaps the best of any domestic Malbec I have tasted.  I don't know where these grapes were sourced, I just wish more had been sourced  as only 65 cases of this deliciousness were produced.
Made by winemaker Rolando Herrera, and named after one of his daughters, this Malbec was full bodied with the deepest purple hue, nicely balanced acidity, bold, but silky tannins and a persistent, moreish finish.  A purple-plummy-raspberryness was followed by the suggestion of blackberries - the floral-perfumey character one gets when one passes by a bramble patch loaded with overly ripe berries - then there was the velvety vanilla vibe that just didn't let go of my taste buds.  Yum! 
Unfortunately, the bottle was only a 375 ml and it disappeared quickly, but not to worry it was sufficient.  And the wine paired well with my Jack-o-Lantern shaped pepperoni pizza (a tradition in these parts).  I'm all about high-end food and wine pairings me.  Double yum!

Happy Halloween.

My faithful old pal, V1, has decided to get into the spirit of things and has donned a seasonal-themed calabasa-chapeau for the occassion.  Isn't she cute?  Just love her.
Happy Halloween everybody!

Good old mould.

These Semillon grapes are looking good, or rather bad - which is a good thing when they are destined to become a late harvest wine.  This Coombsville vineyard is the source of Semillon grapes for Far Niente's Dolce, a delicious late harvest blend of the aforementioned grape and Sauvignon blanc. 
It hasn't been the greatest growing season for late harvest wines.  It has actually been too warm and dry - there has been no rainfall in October.  Last week there was heavy ground fog nearly every day, which is a more desirable climatic condition for Noble Rot, but it may be too little, too late.  Last Tuesday, whilst driving to work, I did espy a vineyard crew working their way through the vineyard with 5 gallon buckets, no doubt making one of many picking passes, selecting only clusters that were showing a good dose of Botrytis cinerea.  I hear the Dolce harvest can last up to 6 weeks.  It's not a cheap wine, but it is a great tipple.

Yeehaw! Harvest 2013 is done.

A western-themed harvest party last night at TWWIAGE concluded my harvest season festivities.  I'm not sad, as I was getting a bit tired with so much merrymaking going on.  Lots of fun was had by all party attendees (mainly staff); beer (and wine) was served in Mason jars; the party fare (buffalo chili) was served on tin plates; a mechanical bull had been procurred for entertainment (I didn't participate).  And amongst the party-goers, working the crowd, was a cowboy riding a dinosaur (don't ask).  Fun!
On another note, today in Vinoland we pressed off the last of our fermentations, so harvest 2013 is truly at an end.  It was a good one.

Ne Cede Malis.

Don't give in to misfortune.
Last night Vinomaker went down to the wine cellar to find something that would pair with our meatloaf dinner.  He reappeared with a bottle of older wine that neither one of us could remember buying.  At that point, I didn't know how old the bottle was as Vinomaker decided to blind-taste me on the mystery wine.  I did OK - Napa Valley, red blend (heavy on the Syrah), vintage 2008.  Whoops, wrong!
The Stags' Leap, 1998 Ne Cede Malis, Napa Valley Reserve is a blend of Petite Syrah (their spelling), Carignane, Grenache, Syrah, Peloursin and Mourvedre.  Erm, yes, I was a whole decade off on the vintage - the still deep, ruby hue of this wine belied it's real age.  On the nose I got hearty oakiness, rosy-lavender-talcyness and lots of mellow, red plum.  This wasn't a big wine on the palate, more akin to a lighter Rhône style, but the structure was finely balanced.  Again, red plums, floral notes, confident astringency (suggesting oak tannins to me), not the slightest hint of bitterness, but with the telltale chalkiness, for me anyway, that I often get from Petite Sirah.
This particular vintage, the 1998, was slammed by the wine press upon release.  The Wine Speculator called 1998 the "Black Sheep Vintage," the resulting wines "tough, tannic and expensive."  At 15 years old this wine is aging beautifully.  Take that, Jim Laube!
Unfortunately, the Ne Cede Malis didn't pair that well with the meatloaf, it was just so-so.  But I didn't give in to that little misfortune, besides I had a delightful Cabernet Franc waiting in the wings.
Nice find Vinomaker.

Delicious autumn.

The weather has changed, quite suddenly.  Autumn has well and truly arrived.  There has been heavy ground fog every morning since Monday - today the fog lingered until about noon.  Temperatures have gone from low 80s last week to mid 60s this week, brrr!  But the cooler weather does have it's enticements.  I may not like the shorter daylight hours, but I do like the pumpkin-squash-cinnamon-spicy flavours of the season.  Like, as a case in point, this pumpkin seed brittle, made with pale ale, that Thud sent to me.  Yum!

A veritable feast of parties.

Harvest parties that is.  Two down, one to go.
Last night I attended the Napa Valley Small Vineyard Association's harvest party.  It was a relatively simple affair, but it was a welcome opportunity to break bread with friends who all share a love of grape-farming.  Tales of crop yields, grape quality and sugar content abounded.  I'm a total geek, so I was in my element.  And I got to eat a lot of dessert; pumpkin pie, pumpkin spice cupcakes, assorted brownies and two slices of a grape decorated sponge cake. Too much?  Leave me alone, I'm stocking up for winter.
I have always liked the idea of celebrating the harvest, any harvest.  I loved harvest festival when I was little, right down to the diminutive bread mouse on the wheat sheaf shaped loaf that was baked each year as part of the harvest festivities.  Good times.

The less said...

A little while back, when a lady-winemaker friend related to me the angst she experienced when having to write tasting notes for each new vintage she released, I started thinking about tasting notes in general.  Over the years I've read some tasting notes that were so silly that they made me laugh out loud, (and not just the poorly translated notes on Eastern European wine bottles).  I commiserate with winemakers who struggle to come up with something original, pertinent and easily understood by the consumer, and have to do it vintage, after vintage.  Even at TWWIAGE the tasting notes are often repetitions of previous vintages - especially when describing a growing season's weather conditions which, to be honest, are not dramatically different one year from the next in the Napa Valley.  Sure, there have been notably cooler and wetter vintages, e.g. 1998 and 2011, but generally speaking the climate here is pretty consistent when it comes to growing wine grapes.
Recently I bought a bottle of wine simply because the tasting notes made me chortle.  The Arrow & Branch, 2012 Sauvignon blanc, Napa Valley was not an inexpensive bottle of wine.  At $35 it was more than I would normally pay for a Sauvignon blanc, as my go-to Sauvignon blanc retails for under $20.  Furthermore, if one happened to be in the market for Sauvignon blanc grapes in 2012, the average price per ton was $1800, so it irks me a tad that Arrow & Branch charge nearly twice as much for their product as some other wineries.  But still, I was curious as to how a $35 Sauvignon blanc tasted.
If the tasting notes for this wine are to be believed, this tipple is an alchemistic-combo of most Sauvignon blanc styles from around the globe; "stone and flint" (from the Loire, maybe?); "grapefruit peel" (New Zealand, anyone?); "new apricots, ripe nectarine" (California, perhaps?)...I'd have been happy with just one style.  The winemaker, Jennifer Williams, claims this wine is "un-muddled and well-delineated", but it succeeded in leaving me a little befuddled.  I liked the wine a little bit more than Vinomaker did: for him there was a component he didn't quite care for, but couldn't quite identify from in amongst the hodge-podge of flavours.  We were both thrown off by the "hints of bouillon" (pass me the gravy boat, please) and the "ground coriander" descriptor had me digging through my spice rack for a quick snort of the aforementioned herb, (I actually did agree with this last element, after initially dismissing it merely as floral).
I am sure there is an art to composing tasting notes, I know I certainly don't possess this particular skill, but I if I was in the business of writing tasting notes, I'd like to think I'd keep the lyric-waxing to a minimum.  Often, less is more.

Harvest 2013 is at an end.

Today was the final day of harvest in Vinoland, but it also happened to be the earliest date that we have ever brought in our Cabernet Sauvignon fruit.  Picking went without a hitch and the grapes looked great - although the yield seemed to be a tiny bit down from last year.
The vines will now begin the process of shutting down for the winter and it seems they'll be getting a helping hand from Mother Nature, temperature wise.  With temps as low as 40° F the past couple of mornings the vines will probably enter dormancy a tad earlier this year than any previous growing season. 
May thy slumber be blessed - see you next spring kids!

Vino inferno.

What a great idea, burning old cordons in a BBQ instead of briquettes.  Today was the annual harvest party that the vineyard workers at TWWIAGE throw for everybody.  It's the best Mexican food, ever!  The hot, bubbled, cordon-toasted tortillas were delicious.  Burn baby burn.

The happiest of industries.

I love the wine-industry, wine-folks are just so darned happy, and helpful. Whilst quaffing a couple of Pinot grigios, Vinomaker wondered out loud what the TA and pH could possibly be in the two nicely balanced wines before us (a 2010 Swanson and a 2012 Gargiulo).   "Let's ask," I say.  So I emailed Chris Phelps, winemaker at Swanson Vineyards, and Kristof Anderson, winemaker at Gargiulo Vineyards, to inquire if they could give me some specific numbers for their respective wines. Lickety split, both of my emails were answered: neither of these winemakers hesitated when it came to answering my paltry query...and this is their busiest time of the year!  Definitely a healthier display of bonhomie than in my previous career of banking.

Thanks lads, it's so gratifying to know that you both enjoy your jobs so much that you'll share your expertise with anybody.   Happy, indeed.