Sur Lie

On The Road Again

2005-11-25T03:48:00.000+13:00

So, the Riesling harvest is over, save a few vines waiting hopefully for exalted eiswein status. Time for a raod trip!. But first, Erni Loosen treated us to a thorough tasting of all of the J.L.Wolf and Dr. Loosen wines that his estates produce. This was followed by a fabulous St.Martin's Day feast (goose is the traditional dish) prepared by Eva Loosen - who was still welcoming after the scene we caused at her 50th Birthday the week before. The meal was paired with 15 or so wines tasted blind, starting with a 1969 Meusault-Perrieres and including some Oregon gems and rare gold capsule Loosen wines. A few days later, me and the Aussie boys and our German workmate Martin piled into the old company VW Golf and hit the autobahn with a list of phone numbers and thirst on our minds.

Firstly, we had to explore more of the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer region where we worked all harvest, and the neighboring Pfalz which is renowned for its dry style Rieslings. We tasted the new '05 wines with Günter, the winemaker at J.L.Wolf, and then visited the well-traveled Bernd Philippi at Koehler-Ruprecht for some '01s and '02s. The next day we were warmly received by the notoriously reticent Egon Müller at his Scharzhofberg estate in the Saar. After a chilly tour of the vineyard we sat and tasted blind through a number of wines, including a peppery 1990 spätlese and a floral, green tea 1976 spät. Egon's family have farmed the same hill for centuries, and he believes strongly that the vintage - the year - has much more influence on the wine than the terroir - or the land where it is grown. Minds slightly blown, we went to visit young gun and Bitburger Bier scion Roman 'Nivo' at his new Von Voxem estate where he throws off tradition and produces only dry white wines. Then, without so much as a quick wurst stop, we came back to the Mosel for a massive tatsing with Markus Moliter at his Klosterberg estate. Markus guided us through 17 different Rieslings created in his individualistic style - all natural yeast, on skin macerations, super long ferments and no stainless steel tanks, only wood. On a side note, Molitor holds the record for the highest Öchsele (sugar or potential alcohol) grapes in the Mosel - 331degrees (I will get a brix equiv. asap) in 2003. This would equal 800 grams of sugar for every liter of wine. My teeth hurt just thinking about it. It is still fermenting.

The following day we went back to the Pfalz and, after a great tour of the Willmes Press Fabrik, met up with Maik Ilgen. I met Maik while I was in New Zealand. He worked at Palliser Estate there, and is a winemaker in the Pfalz. He took us to visit his understated school chum Kurt at Weingut Dr. Deinhard. Deinhard is one of the old Big 3 of the region along with von Bassemann and von Bühl. We tasted '04 Rieslings from tank, along with some weißburgunder (pinot blanc) and grauburgunder (pinot gris). We followed that with a tour of Maik's current cellar at Castell Peter and a dinner of the local saumagen sausage before bedding down at J.L.Wolf. I know this is starting to read like a list, but I simply must continue.

It took us a bit longer than we anticipated to get to Alsace the next morning, so by the time we reached Bergheim the Marcel Deiss winery was closing for a typical two hour french lunch break. We soldiered on to an appointment at the Pfaffenheim Co-op which was mainly interesting for its new ten-press fully automated processing line. Then to Hugel et Fils for a tasting of one of the greatest houses in France. We were happily interrupted by Jean Hugel, the elder of the family, who spouted forth on the myriad mistakes of the New World (Australia and America) winemakers. He even had a few rough words for our Mosel friend Martin. His tirade that was softened somewhat by his wide smile and our glasses filled with Hugel's 1976 Vendage Tardive 'Grain Nobles' Riesling.

Off the next morning for Mecca = Bourgogne! The occasion was the annnual 'Vente des Vins', the auction of the wines of the Hospice du Beaune and a good excuse for a huge piss-up. Beaune is the center of Burgundy. The two growing areas - Cote du Beaune and Cote du Nuits - converge here in an old walled city simply abuzz with wine and food. The auction brings in buyers from around the world, and the mood is very festive. There is a market and a carnival and people dressed up in old-fashioned costumes. This is a Harvest Festival as well as a world-famous wine auction.

My first time in Burgundy was like coming home. Hectare after hectare of little low-slung Pinot noir vines crawl across the landscape in neat meter-by-meter rows. The landscape is broken only by the ocassional town, familiar names like Nuits St. George, Marsanny and Chambolle-Musigny. The church spires soar and the little stone clos (walls) hug the hills while the smoke from pruned vine wood fires add a misty tone and provides contrast for the acrobatic flocks of little blackbirds that reach and dive. We were greeted warmly by Erni's good mate Nicholas Potel, a local negociant. He says that the Hospice festivities are totally boring, so he throws his own party on the night before the auction. The party was anything but stuffy, and definitely not boring. Three rooms of an abandoned old building behind Nuits St. George were transformed with lights, bands, a DJ, open kitchen and long bars. I can't remember everyone I met, but most of them were like us - young wine industry folks out for a good time. The next day was for recuperation only.

We had the chance to visit quite a few wineries in Burgundy given our short time and lack of preparation. First off was Cyril Audoin at Domaine Charles Audoin. Cyril is a regular at the IPNC in Oregon, and it was good to see him in his native habitat. Marsanny has no Grand Crus (top-rated vineyards), but some are pending. Regardless, Cyril showed us that you don't need expensive land to make purfumey, rich and flavorful wines that will last. His 'Les Favieres' vineyard was a hands-down favorite. That afternoon Helene gave us a tour of the cllars at Domaine Pierre Damoy. The '04 Grand Crus out of barrel were superb. The Chambolle 'Clos Vez' was bold with plums and violets. The Chambertin was earthy, full and long. At Domaine Georges Mugneret we tasted 2004 Vosne Romanee, Nuits St. George 'Chaignots', Chambolle, Ruchottes Chambertin, a dark and evil Clos Vougeot, and Echezeaux from barrel. It was an eye-opening tour of Cote du Nuits. That afternoon , after a brief stop at the windy La Romanee vineyard, possibly he highest rated grape site in the world, we went to Domaine d'Ardhuy, where we tasted wines more in the 'international style.' Our tour was topped the next morning when Alex Seyesse tasted us through the '04s at Domaine Dujac and then surprised us with a spicy cherry1997 Clos St. Denis Crand Cru and a blind tasted 1976 Gevrey Chambertin Priemere Cru that had secondary aromas of smoke and blu cheese and a delicate orange peel finish.

With tired palates and stained teeth, we happily piled back into the Golf and headed off into the proverbial sunset. I know that I will be back in Bourgogne someday soon, and can't wait to continue this tasty exploration. Hey, the snails are good too!

Clean Slate

2005-11-03T03:25:00.000+13:00

The western shore of the Mosel River, a busy tributary of the Rhine, are steeply banked sedimetary walls covered with a deep layer of blue and red slates. It is this slate, its southern aspect, quick drainage and the temperature moderating influence of the river, that makes the Mosel the top region for Riesling in the world. The other shore, flat and cooler, is also planted to within an inch of its life, but the grapes there don't rate anything more then good dry table wines. The king of the Mosel Riesling is the auslese, the late-picked grapes that have started to shrivel a bit, and may have some botrytis - a 'noble' rot - to add to the depth of flavor and concentration.

There is a story that has been passed down that in the olden times, the Prussian rulers would send word to the Mosel winegrowers when they deemed the time was right to harvest each year. One year, they sent their messenger out to alert the waiting farmers, but the horserider got sidetracked along the way by a few pints of good German beer. Long story short, by the time the farmers got the word to pick, the grapes had half rotted on the vine. They had no choice but to try and make wine from the ruined fruit - with now legendary results. The Spätlese Rider story may not be all true, but the history has held. The wine that results from these late-picked grapes is deep gold in color, low in alcohol, and the best have a perfect balance of sweetness and acidity that stays in your mouth long after the last swallow. Even if you don't like sweet wine, you've got to try this stuff.

Weingut Dr. Loosen owns blocks in some of the best Mosel vineyards, including the Ürziger Würzgarten (Ürzig Spicegarden), Erdener Prälat (Bishop of Erden) and Erdener Treppchen (Little Steps of Erden). These sites were deemed 'Grand Cru' in a Prussian survey of the 1860s (even before the Burgundy ranking), and although the Germans don't use a vineyard rating system, there is a movement underfoot to do so. Every ledge and crag of this land is planted to Riesling. The vines are doppelbogen (double bow, like a heart shape) pruned with no trellis and have grown for over 70 years on their own roots. (Phylloxera, a devastating root disease, cannot survive in the slate.) Our vineyard manager, Roland Orthmann, watches over them and runs a hard-working crew of Poles who do the back-breaking work of picking these hard-won grapes. I was volunteered to strap on one of the green fiberglass funnel-shaped backpacks that the strongest men wear to carry the harvested clusters down from to steep hillside. Scrambling for my footing on the loose slate, holding onto vine posts for support, I collected the carefully culled fruit and gingerly made my way down to trucks waiting at the bottom where I had to up-end the carrier over my shoulder into a big bin. It was no easy feat, and only later, when the pickers stopped laughing and pointing at me, was I told that my backpack had been only half-filled.

So, props to the mountain goat strength and balance of the men and women who nurse the Mosel vines. Because it still all boils down to the fruit. The best wines come from the best grapes. And our Keller Meister Berni Schug would be the first to agree (if you caught him in a good mood). He has been making world-class wines from these vineyards for over 20 years, using basically the same cellar techniques the whole time. It's not invasive nor manipulative of the juice. Sometimes it even borders on lax, but the eventual goal emerges every time, the true expression of these most unique of vineyards.

Land Ho!

2005-10-25T23:50:00.000+13:00

It's hard to leave any party in the middle, when the bass is just starting to thump and upper lips are beading with sweat. But leave I must. And I did. Just before the last of the Cabernet was due in, I took leave of Mrs. Clean, The Captain, NayNay, Junior, El Rey de los Burros. They were sump deep in thrice daily pumpovers and pre-press pieage. Still working 14 hour days and eating meat between bread for every meal. I've heard from them and the Harvest finished off nicely. We brought in a total of 72 tons of fruit, 25% more than predicted, and most of the ferments were, in the fax parlance of Ms. Turley - F.F. (fuckin' fabulous).

A quick trip back to Portland to trade in my ragged t-shirts and pick up some long underwear. (A big thanks to my tolerant friends and their comfortable guest rooms.) The Oregon Harvest seemed good, though off to a slow start. Then winging on my preferred airline to The Old World (in wine speak) - Europe: Germany.

That's where I am now, just entering my second week of Vintage in The Mosel Valley. Harvest was two weeks in when I got here, so there was no time to get acclimated. I'm working for Weingut (winery) Dr. Loosen, which also includes Gebrüder (brothers) Loosen, an arm that produces less expensive wines like the 'Dr.L' Riesling that's in your local supermarket, and J.L. Wolf, an estate in the Pfalz region that has its own facilities. The winery, under Ernst (Erni) Loosen and his winemaker Bernhard (Berni) Schug, has redefined German Riesling across the globe. With more attention to vineyard sites and less manipulation in the cellar, plus endless marketing of what globetrotting Erni calls the 'Rocky Horror Riesling Show,' they have triumphed internationally both qualitatively and financially.

The wines have been made forever in a dingy cellar in Bernkastel-Kues, but this year the entire operation, offices, warehouse and bottling line included, has moved to new digs 20K west in an industrial suburb of Wittlich. That is where I'm working, and living - in a four room apartment next to the accounting ladies' offices. It's comfortable, though a bit remote and factory stark. When all the people go home at 5pm, I feel like we are little factory mice left alone in the half light to scurry about. But there's enough work to keep me and my two Aussie compatriots busy, and we can always pedal through the fields and past the steeples into Wittlich for a taste of culture and maybe a döner kebab.

The winery is impressive. We have over one hundred stainless steel tanks. Ranging from 25,000 liters (we have 11 of these) for the bulk wine, down to a wee 50 liters for the Trockenbeerenauslese - liquid gold that is treated as such. Oh yeah, there's that monster 100,00 liter tank just outside our balcony as well. Wine and juice is in constant flow here. There are three presses. Most grapes are pressed for a three hour cycle, with the green grapes for dry wine being crushed and left to macerate a bit before hitting the presses and the rest of the grapes going right in the hopper. The must (juice) goes directly from these machines to settling tanks where the next morning they are fined with bentonite and charcoal. We then add gelatine and do a floatation with nitrogen. This unique manipulation separates the juice cleanly from the schmutz. We then pump/rack the clear juice into fermentation tanks where it will be innoculated.

That's enough winespeak for now. I'm off to get some lunch before my evening shift begins. Cheers!

You've Got Merlot

2005-09-26T10:10:00.000+12:00

I've discovered during my brief time in the wine industry, that every vintage is unique - and troublesome. The perfect year isn't perfect until it's over and we can look back at it. (And I've yet to meet one of those years). 2005 in the Napa and Sonoma Valleys is consistent with the inconsistency of grape growing. Spring was early, which led speculation of an early harvest. Late Spring rains damaged some flowers, reducing crop a bit. The Summer was perfect for setting the fruit, and the Fall seemed to follow suit with nice warm days and calm cool nights. Until now that is.

Most of the Napa fruit is still hanging from the vine while a long, unseasonal, cool spell is hanging in the skies. The plants need another hit of heat to push them to the proper sugar levels - which in Napa are usually notoriously high. This long final wait may lead to fruit that is more 'truly' biologically ripe, and lower alcohols in the final wines - A more European style if you must. What I mostly see is a lot of winemakers sitting around waiting for their grapes to come in.

Over at Blankiet this is thankfully not the case. We did wait a bit, and cleaned a little bit more, but our site in the Mayacamas toe hills is early ripening (though also later than last year) and as of yesterday the entirety of our Merlot - a grand 32 tons - is crushed. The first of our Cab sauv will roll across the tables mid-week and we may press off our first dry wine at week's end. I am especially pleased as I am expected in Germany mid-October and thought I might not get to see the whole process through.

It's been a kick to work in the World Famous Napa Valley. Wine is very serious business in these parts, and you don't take many chances with a bottle that will score 98 points and retail for over $100. It's still fun, but it's definitely different. Also different, is working for a Consulting Winemaker. Helen Turley is great (and tall and handsome and famous and humble) - she shares her thoughts freely while she works and will gladly take the time to answer our questions - when she's around. We take samples every morning from our tanks of juice and send them up to Helen's house in Calistoga along with their charts. Helen and Jon taste them, and fax their comments to the winery. There are written protocols in our manuals for additions, pumpovers, etc., and Helen's associates at Blankiet - Brian and Jeanne - are extremely capable winemakers in their own right. It's sort of a recipe, although you never know what kind of shape the ingredients (the grapes) are going to be in. Decisions about the wine are generally made only after a phone call or two.

What's the secret? There are so many of them, from the slow sorting to the splashing pumpover (just how it sounds). I think I've barely scratched the surface. That to me is one of the greatest joys of making wine. Everyday when I go to work I learn something new. And I don't know of many who can say that about their jobs, but I do wish it for everyone.

Paradise Hills

2005-09-04T09:36:00.000+12:00

Everyday, with the morning mist still hanging over the Napa Valley, I make my way to the Mayacamas Hills of Yountville, through the archway of Domaine Chandon and onto the dirt frontage road that leads to Paradise Hills Vineyard, the home of Blankiet Estate. The track wends west, and follows the Dominus property line aquaduct back into the hills. The sloped vineyard here is planted entirely to Cabernet sauvignon and Merlot grapes - the winery produces no white wines. The Cab is planted on the north slopes, on steep ash soils covered with gravelly loam. The Merlot plantations to the south don't reach quite as high in elevation and their volcanic soils form a basin around the winery site before curving out of sight around the hill topped by the Blankiet home.

I was fortunate to be invited along on a recent pre-harvest vineyard walkthough with Jon Wetlaufer, the viticulturist who planned the plantings here, and Jaime Avina, the vineyard manager. We walked the rows, choosing different aspects of all of the various blocks. While Jon's wife, Helen Turley, was conducting a baseline sampling for sugar (brix) levels and acidity (pH), we surveyed the vines for signs of stress, vigor, defficencies. The general idea is to allow the vine just enough growth to ripen just enough fruit - around 3lb. per vine in this case. This can be achieved through fertilization, irrigation, canopy management and a variety of other methods. The best and least laborious method, is to choose the right vine with the right rootstock planted in the right spot. This may sound simplisticly obvious, but we are still sorting out how to do this consistently. Much relies on vine spacing - Paradise Hills is planted 1m (3ft) between vines and 2m (6ft)between rows. The close-planted Abel block at Escarpment was more like 1mx1.2m and most of the tractor-farmed Sauvignon blanc in NZ is 2mx3m.

We expect the first fruit will cross the sorting table of our virgin destemming line sometime at the end of this week. Then we'll find out if we've forgotten anything while setting up this brand new winery. I'm looking forward to getting my mitts on my first Bordeaux varietals. And getting to the job of making some wine.

Greetings From Planet Napa

2005-08-22T10:23:00.000+12:00

It's still hard to believe that I'm here in Napa California. One day I was just kicking around in Portland, catching up with dear friends, dog and housesitting, getting ready for my Fall trip to Germany. Next day, I'm hauling down the highway (Hi 5, thanks Jean-Jacques) to a room I found on Craig'sList and a job I applied for on a lark. I'm really very happy to be here. It's great to be near family and old friends, and to be exploring the Northern California wine regions. Not to mention the winemaking.

The primary winery that I am working for is named Blankiet Estates. The past vintages were made at a custom crush facility called The Napa Wine Co., a slightly worn tank farm on the corner of Highway 29 and the Oakville Cross Rd. This year we'll be making the Blankiet wines at the new winery up in the hills behind Dominus Estate, just west of Yountville. They've dug out 6,000 sq. ft. of caves and are currently buliding a 6,000 sq. ft. winery in front of them. So, we'll be making wine in a construction site - should be a challenge.

I'll write more about that soon. Just let it be known that I'm having a good time down here. There's lots of cool toys around the winery for their poor Oregonian cousin to gawk at. My room is nice enough - my windows look out at a riesling vineyard, and, if I crane my neck, Bob Mondavi's Hill. I haven't received my invite for coffee and scones from him yet.

Gotta go before the librarian gets mad at me.

Time For A New Map

2005-08-05T13:44:00.000+12:00

Well, that's it for the Antipodes for now. I will be getting pics up on my later entries real soon. I'm off to Napa Valley now for two months making Cabernet and Merlot in Yountville. I'm excited to be working with some different varietals and some highly regarded winemakers. I'm also looking forward to exploring California's most respected wine region - it's been a long time and I've so much to learn.

Crikey Mate

2005-07-11T11:25:00.000+12:00

Some of you may not know that I took a brief detour on my way back from New Zealand. I stopped for two weeks in Sydney, on the West Coast of Australia. I spent most of the time exploring Sydney, meeting native Australian critters (Hi Bruce!), and hanging out with my dear friend Janet at her pad north of the city on Freshwater Beach. Yes, I did do some winetasting as well. Here are some pics from the trip.

Another Big Australian Wine

Some Friends

Bruce

Sheila

Janet Planet

Sydney

Busman's Holiday

2005-05-25T00:15:00.000+12:00

Some New Zealand Hotties

Before it is all gone from my ever-diminishing capacity, I would like to jot down some notes on Margo and my trip through the South Island wine regions.

We set off later than planned, after consuming Crom-Vegas' finest breakfast with Sonja at Fusee Rouge. Our first day's travel took us across the lower passes of the Southern Alps and on into Christchurch - an artsy town filled with cruising boy racers and an Anglican cathedral. From CHCH we headed up the coast highway 1, through Canterbury and on into The Waipara - NZ's most developing wine district. After visiting the beautiful premises of Pegasus Bay and its estate vineyards, we hied forward to the Waipara Food & Wine Celebration - a lucky unplanned happenstance. Here, amid whitebait patties, saxaphone quartets and picnicking Kiwis, were able to taste all the Waipara had to offer, including those of Danny Schuster and Alan McCorkindale. Our favorite by far was Mountford, who offered not only a dense and aromatic Pinot, but also a sparkly rose under screwcap. As a side note, the Mountford wines are made by a blind man, who obviously rises to his particular challenges.

Tempting as they were, we left the accordians and hay bales behind us, and forged forward up the East Coast. Passing through santa cruzy Kaikoura and flanked by the railroad tracks on one side and the Pacific on the other, we found our way to Blenheim, epicenter of the Marlborough wine region. Everywhere you look in Marlborough there are grapevines, seas of them stretching flat from the ocean up to the foothills, broken only by the occasional array of shiny stainless steel tanks pushing up through the green canopy.

We would have been lost in this flood of Sauvignon blanc, were it not for the expert navigation of our friend Jonas VanDerPol. Jonas has moved back to the region after a number of foreign vintages, including two in the Willamette Valley. Prior to that, he worked for Cloudy Bay and a few other Marlborough producers of note. With Mr. J at the helm, we ploughed our way through nine wineries in the course of one day! We visited Mt Riley, Villa Maria, Allan Scott, Isabel, Fromm, St. Clair, Cloudy Bay, Seresin and Lawson's, and attempted but were unable to visit Montana, Wither Hills and Spy Valley.

Marlborough is the home of New Zealand Sauvignon blanc - the engine that drives the country's entire wine industry. An engine fueled by gooseberries, greased with capsicum (green pepper) and sparked with aromas of cat pee. We tasted plenty of bad examples, and a few good ones, including of course Cloudy Bay's, but it was pinot we were really after. The best reds we tasted were at Isabel - a very Oregon style pinot - and at Fromm, where the Syrah was also a standout and the riesling was good. Both wineries have old, densely planted, and meticulously tended vineyards.

We had a fantastic time staying in Blenheim with Jonas' wife Sue at her parents Barrie and Raewyn Parker's tidy home. I'm no southern belle, but the 'kindness of strangers' indeed.

The following day we convoyed around the Marlborough Sounds, the long way to Nelson and Jonas' home. We stopped in Hamilton for the requisite green lips - they are grown in The Sounds along seeded lengths of chain - and continued over the banged-up Pelorus River Bridge and onto Tasman Bay. Once out of The Sounds, as in Blenheim, any land too steep for vines or sheep is planted with pine trees. New Zealand climate is a such that these trees mature fully in 29 years, creating soft wood unfit for building timber, but ideal for the pulp mills in Japan and through Asia. The Nelson area in the north of the island used to be planted to tabacco, but is now cultivating grapes, hops, orchard fruits, and a bit of green tea. The VanDerPols have a pear orchard in Motueka beyond Nelson and a nursery and vineyard at their home a bit outside of the town. We were welcomed by two dachshunds and a tray of gin and tonics.
Job (Jan Joseph) and Jos VanDerPol live perched atop a tractor shed overlooking their spread in a cozy home filled with books, boomerang children and the smell of homecooked meals. Margo and I did manage to visit a few more wineries, including Waimea Estate - where sister Wietske VanDerPol is a winemaker - Seifried, and Neudorf - the latter being our favorite. Mostly we explored bohemian Nelson, walked on the beach, made stovetop espressos and sampled Jos' homemade fruit eau du vie.

It wasn't all wine mind you. I spent a good week exploring the (Wet) West Coast.
Watch out Sir Edmund

There were glacier hikes (Fox Glacier) and lakeside bikes (Lake Kaniere), as well as quiet days on driftwood beaches and drizzly nights spent sharing dirty jokes (Hokitika). It seems like months - it has been - since I wandered back through the VanDerPol and Parker households - my ankles covered in sandfly bites and my eyes filled with visions of snow covered peaks seen from wave swept beaches - on my way across to the North Island.

Marge went native in a big way. Just don't make her mad and you'll be right

Venturing to the Edge

2005-05-24T00:00:00.000+12:00

Martinborough is a town of around 700 permanent residents, many of whom are cockies living out in the wop wops on some sort of farm. Town itself is centered around a grassy square which is circled by a few cafes and shops. Legend has it that Mr. Martin had many daughters and travelled the world looking for suitable sons in-law to marry them off to. The Martinborough streets, a tribute to his fatherly dedication, are named for the places he visited. I live on Dublin Street, The brewery is on New York and the hostel is on Cologne (one up from Strasbourge). I've never been to Sackville, but there is a street duly named. Always a patriot, Martin aligned these avanues like a Union Jack. Nowadays, Martinborough is a weekend destination for Wellingtonians, many of whom own a second home here. The town swells with swells on Friday evening and deflates again sometime Sunday afternoon. Other than that, there are about thirty-odd wineries and lots of grapes.

I alit from the train at 9:30 in the morning. By 11'o'clock I was working at my new job. That's what Larry McKenna, winemaker and owner of Escarpment Vineyard would call "getting right into it." Getting into it on my first day meant picking Pinot noir at a vineyard we manage a few blocks off of the square. I met 'the girls' - Escarpment's fulltime vineyard crew, 'the boys' - Noel the tractor driver and Chris the everything else driver (a couple of hard and capable blokes) and Guy McMaster, Escarpment's production manager and Larry's right hand. By the end of the week I felt I'd known them for months, and by now they feel like I've been here forever (and are ready for me to be gone).

Larry McKenna is a highly respected leader of the NZ winemaking community. He shows up on numerous tasting panels, consults for wineries and vineyards throughout this country and Australia and has been making his own damn fine wine here in M'boro for over twenty years. They call him 'The Prince of Pinot'. He's a crew-cut Teva-and-shorts wall of a man with a great sense of humor, youthful enthusiasm, aged wisdom and heaps of humility. I enjoy working for him. Escarpment is his new project. The vineyards were planted starting in 1999 and the first vintage was 2003. It's sited out Te Muna Road about 5k from town, 50 acres planted on gravely river terrace overlooking the Huramunga River bed. The vineyard is planted with a variety of Pinot noir clones - including a close-planted block of self-rooted Abel (a DRC 'gumboot' clone named after the customs agent that confiscated it) - Chardonnay, Pinot gris, Pinot Blanc and Riesling. This young vineyard has already produced a single vineyard wine named Kupe (the pre-Maori navigator) which has just been released to great acclaim.

The winemaking process is simple. We pick the fruit - can't make wine without grapes - and tip it onto a shaker table for sorting. After picking out any green or moldy fruit, the grapes are lifted up with a conveyor and dumped into a destemmer. The berries are then dumped into a open-top fermenter where they will live for the next couple of weeks. Escarpment has a number of different tanks and fermenters, foremost among them two french oak cuves (like huge barrels open on one end) that allow up to 8 tonne of fruit to ferment in the Burgundian style. After five to seven days,the must begins to ferment naturally or is innoculated with special yeasts. We take their vitals - sugar and temp - in the mornings, and plunge thrice daily to keep the cap wet and the yeasties happy. Once the juice is wine and the cap has sunk, we pump off what we can into a tank and dig out the rest (just like it sounds).

This is pressed gently for 2.5 hours with a few basic enzymes added to help the solids settle out. The next day we fill up the barrels with the young wine. It will go through a second malolactic ferment in the Spring and will be ready to bottle before the next harvest. Voila!

Except, it's never that bloody easy, is it? First off, there was a lot of rain when the vines were flowering which led to a severe loss of fruit potential. Then, in late March, just a few weeks off from picking, there were massive rains in the Wairapara (M'boro). Over 200 mm's in two days. Rivers rose, roads were washed out, and ripening berries burst from over-saturation, sugars were diluted, and molds set in. We picked some fruit that was coated in river mud from the floods. No one in Martinborough escaped this event, and every winery was down around 50% from last year's yields. Escarpment is a young and developing winery, designed to top out at 100 tonnes of fruit and expecting just 70 tonnes this year. We did just under 40. The berries were small and the flavors developed and we expect great things from the fruit we brought in. 2005 will be a vintage in great demand from Martinborough, both because the wines will be rare and of the highest quality.

Wine!? In New Zealand!?

2005-04-17T14:23:00.000+12:00

I'm sitting here in sunny Martinborough, surrounded by dozens of wineries, carefully tended vineyards and plenty of cranky juice-stained winemakers, and I realize that I haven't said much about wine. I've tasted a lot of juice and visited numerous producers since I arrived. 2004, most wineries current realease, wasn't a great vintage for most, and was especially rough in Central Otago. 2005 looks to be worse, but I get ahead of myself. I'll try and go through where I've been and what I liked. Most of these producers don't have a huge presence in the U.S. market and many of them I'd never even heard of before.

Hawke's Bay: This sunny region on the Bay of Plenty specializes in Bordeaux varietals. I explored the area with the capable and lovely Imogen. The most famous grapes are planted in the Gimblett Gravels sub-region, nestled below the foothills, further from the maritime influences. It is centered around Gimblett Road and is most strongly defined by the grey wacke
gravel in the soil.

I visited Matariki, Trinity Hill, Selini, Alpha Domus and Lucknow the first day. Matariki had some good wines and Alpha Domus was interesting as well. Trinity and Selini are big and impressive architecturally. Lucknow was the favorite. A small winery a bit further out along the track, Lucknow has plantings in an old riverbed, and above on the river terraces. He does an Orgon style Pinot gris, inspired by a couple vintages with Lynn Penner-Ash and his Syrah shows great potential. I think that the Gimbletts could really grow some good syrah, but it's hard being in the shadow of all that Aussie shiraz.

My second trip out, Imogen showed me Nga Tawara, the first winery of production giant Corban's, sited in an old stables. We also saw Gimblett's pioneer C.J.Pask, Hastings producer Vidal, and the coastal Te Awanga vineyards of Clearview and Kim Crawford.

Central Otago: Although I was living in Central for over a month, I only went tasting twice. I did sample many other wines over home-cooked meals with Margo and at a few functions. The so-called "Continental Climate" of this region means that it gets very cold. This must partly explain the extremely high-acid white wines that I tasted throughout. '04 was especially rough, and the '05 frosts are leading to an even lighter tonnage this year. In the Bannockburn sub-region we tasted along Felton Road (although the winery of that name was unfortunately closed). Mt. Difficulty is among my favorites, with a truly savoury Pinot noir. Some of its vineyards are planted atop an old gold field which look like mesas, and some is on the valley floor. We also visited Olssens, Akarua and Carrick - who had the only drinkable whites, including a riesling. Their '03 Pinot was good and the '02 was even better.

Highwire pinot at Peregrine

Another day I went out tasting with Dawn and Chris, just back from kayaking the Doubtful Sound. We made it to Amisfield, Peregrine and Chard Farm. Peregrine is obviously owned by a viticulturist. The vineyards are immaculate. They are set off by the architectural audacity of the new winery. The wines were good too. Chard Farm has hands down the most dramatic site in the whole Gibbston Valley.

I didn't make it to Quartz Reef, but I tasted a number of Rudi Bauer's wines, and they were among the best. A shout out as well to his sparkling brut Chauvet, a happy fall back when we couldn't agree on what to drink and great paired with a rainy day at the Cromwell racetrack.

In Search of the Elusive Kiwi

2005-04-17T13:25:00.000+12:00

I've been in New Zealand for over two months now and have learned a thing or two about the elusive Kiwi. But, like any subject of deep complexity, the more you learn, the more you realize you don't know. Natives display a great ability to poke fun at themselves, and who wouldn't when most of the national heroes (rugby players to a man) have mullets (moo-lays), wear shorty shorts and pass the ball backwards when on a forward drive. Of course, as with any culture, there are geographical pockets and trends. Wellington is a great place to have an almost world class meal, followed by a foreign film or a screening of the latest Oscar-nominated Kiwi short. Here there are warehouse dwelling bohemians who eat organic and shop at opp shops alongside suited slicksters shopping on Lambton Quay and drinking Belgian beer in polished cement floor lounges.

But contrast that with, for example, Cromwell - the center of Central Otago's winemaking district. Cromwell, or Crom-Vegas as it is afffectionately known, is a friendly working class family community with a pub and a supermarket and once-a-year races at the track. Seems that muscle cars are the hot topic here. I was asked often about GTO's and Camaros and was met with dubious wide eyes when I admitted I drove a VDub. Holden, a GM product, is the machine of choice. Their older models have the look of mid-80's Mustangs, complete with plastic spoilers and splashy side paint. The current drooler as far as I can tell is the four-door extended cab Holden ute - basically a shiny new El Camino or Ranchero - complete with a big and bright roll bar just for good measure. They come in midnight blue, blood red or lime green.
The Australian Ones Come In Killer Orange

Food is another gateway into a culture, where similarities and differences come to light. Much of the New Zealand Pakeha (white man) traditional food derives from the famed British cuisine. Boiled veggies and boiled meat figure prominently, with fries and a minimum of fresh greens. Big breakfasts and sauce hollandaise are popular, though I've yet to sample the bubble and squeak. Custards and creamed rice are popular for afters, and dates show up in scones and fruit cakes. Some delicacies include paua (abalone) , crayfish ( a dark lobster) and white bait. Bluff oysters, from Bluff of course, are supposed to be tasty but I've yet to try one. One other such national delicacy is the mutton bird. Seems there's a protected bird, the sooty sheerwater, which only the Maori are allowed to hunt. They are caught as fledglings out of their nests and brined for later consumption. To cook them, you have to boil them thrice to leech out the salt, then throw them on the barby. Basically grilled seagull unless you're a fan. We've dubbed them The Flightless Anchovy of the Air. The Maori hunters of yore were also known to use a dead lit bird as a torch on dark nights. Now that's an oily treat. We'll have it for dinner, except that they call dinner "tea" here! Oh, these crazy Kiwis. [Incidentally, there is a famous NZ folk-rock group named The Mutton Birds, they're actually quite good]

One other critter to look out for in EnZed is the sandfly. You'll know when you meet one by the mark they leave. These little nippers, about the size of a gnat, feed on ankles and hands, leaving behind a welt that can last for weeks. They are mostly found on the West Coast but I've felt their loving touch in northern vineyards and the East Coast as well. Sir Ian McKellan, an unofficial expert on the bug, claims that he doesn't recall being bitten once while filming the Ring Trilogy, although he did incur a few nips when out of costume. Even wizards need bug repellant now and again I suppose.

Now With Pictures!

2005-03-31T17:17:00.000+12:00

Alright, this is just a placemark blog to let you all know that I'm here and you're there and I need to get on my update, like, yesterday. I'm in Nelson (please refer to your maps), where it has just turned to drizzly Fall, and am slowly moving toward Wellington and back to work. I am well and will be better when my laundry is dry.
In my next entry - coming shortly - I will attempt to cover the winetasting roadtrip (9 in one day - an alltime record), the glacier and how to do nothing in Hokitika and have a great time doing it.

Thanks to my web gurus - Mr. Johnson and Phineus/Tom/Dad - I have added photos to my previous posts. Feel free to browse down thru past entries and note the colorful images. Also note the prominent placement of the EnZed map, and new links to eMail me, or link to the website of my upcoming employer.

I love and miss you all . . . Matt

Mr. Anti-Freeze

2005-03-12T13:29:00.000+13:00

Greeting from Central Otago, the southernmost winegrowing region in the world. 'Cold climate viticulture' is what they call it. As Dom sez: "if you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much room" And he'd know, cuz he's the the one that has to spend the nights in the vineyard fighting the Spring and Autumn frosts. The weather here is schizophrenic to say the least. Before I arrived temps were in the low 30's. My first couple of weeks here were 25-27 - singlet and jandal weather. March 1st the thermometer dipped to -1.1, before bouncing right back up. Two days ago there was a freak tornado in Greymouth, snow-capped mountains down to 900 meters, and serious risk of another freeze in the vineyard.

I got the call around 9 'o'clock - did I want to spend a cold night out at the Bendigo Vineyards with a thermos of hot water, a digital thermometer and the possibility of a helicopter ride? Hell yes. Now this is the romance of viticulture; 4-wheeling the dusty vineyard roads, rabbits and opossum scurrying through our hi-beams and under our wheels, walking the rows watching the digital readout in our shivering hands. Three factors contribute to a freeze - I learned in my crash course - 1) temperature, 2) relative humidity, 3) wind speed. If the wind is blowing or the air is thick with humidity, or both, ice won't form on the plants even at lower temps. There are two ways to combat this sort of freeze; water and fans. Many vineyards have overhead sprinklers installed. Before the freeze occurs, the sprinklers are activated. A layer of ice forms on the plants, trapping the warmer temps beneath that layer and thus protecting the plant. Fans come in two forms, wind machines or helicopters which force the warmer inversion layer down onto the freezing plants, warming up the lower air around the plant and creating an active environment where ice cannot form.

It's really a hang out and wait situation. The helicopters were waiting in the dark - the pilot just a phone call and 45 minutes drive away. We caught a brief sleep in a forty-footer shipping container that Dom has converted into his vineyard flat. Queen-size bed, couch and armchair set, front porch kitchen through the glass sliding doors - luxury bred out of neccessity. We woke around 1:30 and began our vigil. Between 2 am and 4:30 the temperature dropped from 1.8 to 0.5. We sipped hot tea and debated the variables. It was a new moon and the crystal clear sky revealed the stars of the Southern Hemisphere - the Southern Cross riding just over the snow-kissed ridge of the Pisa Range. But no cloud cover paired with no wind is no good. We turned the sprinklers on the lower Riesling block. Back at the West Pinot noir block, ice crystals were forming on the deadmen that anchor the trellising system, but there was a bit of dew on the cold leaves and the temp was holding steady. Then it jumped a degree, went down 0.2 . . . We waited. No protective ice was forming on the Riesling. The thermometer fluctuated barely in the mid-1 degrees. At 6:30 Dom decided that if it did freeze, the sunrise would beat out the pilot to warm the fruit, and we crawled into our container cold and tired and ready to do battle another day.

Ah, the drama. One more week in the vineyards I think, then Margo and I will head-out on a tour of the Canterbury, Waipara, Marlborough and Nelson winegrowing regions. She'll head back down here to prepare for Vintage, and I'll spend a week or so on the Wild West Coast of the South Island - home to pot growers, glaciers, bushmen and hu hu grub eaters - before getting back up to the North Island. I'll update and post pics when I can.

Luv Ya -

- Matt

Write On

2005-02-26T13:27:00.000+13:00

I'm glad everyone is enjoying the Sur Lie Blog (hi Nanda!) and getting into their secret identities (hi Dad!). I'm still sorting out some things, like how to post links 'n' such. In the meantime, you no longer need to register with this website in order to post comments - so your info is safe here. I haven't sorted out how to put an eMail Matt button on this page, but I would like to point out that you can, and should, eMail Matt. Arright? Keep your eyes here for a whole mess of photos and further Kiwi Adventures.

In The Scrum

2005-02-24T21:36:00.000+13:00

I know it's been a while, and there are some adventures that I'll have to relate later. I arrived in beautiful Queenstown on Saturday (it's Thursday night here) . I arrived in typical high style on the InterCity bus from Christchurch (follow along with your map if you like). The bus crossed the magnificent Southern Alps twice via high passes, stopping at Lake Tekapo and affording clear views of EnZed's highest peak - Mt. Cook/Aoraki.
Mt.Cook - Aoraki

Queenstown is a lakeside resort community nestled around NZ's longest lake - Wakatipu - at the south end of the Alps. Not only is it the best place to throw oneself off of a bridge/mountain/slope/glacier/boat . . . , it is also home to the Central Otago wine region and my dear friend Margo.

I'm staying with Marge in her furnished flat below her, and my, current boss, Domenic Mondillo and the lovely Ally. Dom manages 170 acres of vineyard for Gibbston Valley winery, along with his own vines and various other properties. He has just started his own label, and hopes to be debt free by 2020. The flat has a view of the lake and a washer and dryer - heaven. I have joined Margo working amongst the vines just this week. The land is sandy silty loam and the area is dry, so they use full irrigation. Much of the farming is done by machine - trimming and hedging as well as leaf-pulling and laying net - which is what we've been doing out at Bendigo Station this week. Seems NZ has some starlings who love to strip vineyards of their fruit. It's pretty wild wrapping hectares of vineyard in nylon netting, stringing the nets together and weighting the edges down with rock. The result is Christo like in style and scale.

The blokes reckon it would look better in 'Saffron'

Other than birds - including Magpies and Harrier Hawks, I don't see much animal life in the vineyard. A few earwigs and ladybugs and some whitetail hunting spiders I've been warned about. Oh, and the rabbits, which some Englishman (Pommy) introduced to the country and now they've (the bunnies) made a good mess of it. We're hoping to get some target practice in soon. Ah, the romance of the wine lifestyle.

I played rugby yesterday. Yes, you heard me right. Actually, 'touch', which is I'm told, very unlike true rugby. Margo's friend Kali is on an intramural team and was kind enough to let me muck it up for a bit. It's six to a side, you get 5 or 6 'downs' you can only pass backwards and a goal is called a 'try' . Try as I did, I kept running ahead of the ball and was offsides so often the the ref stopped calling me on it and started coaching me from onfield instead. He told me to "put the hammer down" when I was in possession. All I managed was to put down was a big bottle of Speight's (pride of the South) in the clubroom after, that and some handmade sausages and chips at Kali and Scotty's house later. Good stuff.

We won some mystery meat in the post-rugby raffle!

Gotta go and hit the sack - more net to lay tomorrow. This weekend should include some winetasting and some more rugby, purely spectator this time. I plan to keep working and exploring the South Island from my Queenstown base as long as Margo and Dom can stand me. The Milford Sound and the West Coast are calling, and there is always more wine to drink, ummm, taste.
p.s. I made it to the Sounds
too bad this bloody Yank got in the way of the beautiful scenery

Hiya

2005-02-15T20:54:00.000+13:00

Napier
There is so much I want to say, but I spent $6 just figuring out how to post this damn map to my blog - that, and I've been sipping EnZed wine all day (oh me) and can't type quite right. I am in Napier, the Art Deco mecca of the East Coast - on the Pacific Coast Highway actually. I've fallen in with a tough crowd at a Backpacker's (hostel) called Toad Hall.

The Bad Boys of Toad Hell

But, their bad influence aside, I have managed to make it out to taste some wine, walk the beach and eat some good kebabs, indian grub and long blacks (a double shot long pull - does the trick)

I am staying here until Friday morning - oh yeah, hello from tomorrow - and then will jet down to the South Island. I'll post some thoughts on Auckland and meat pies when I recover from the sight of water going down the drain the wrong way.

Lotsa Love

Playing Catch Up

2005-02-15T11:05:00.000+13:00

The story so far . . .

Auckland, well, not so much. It's an alright city. A bit high fashion and yachtie for my tastes. I wandered around the wharf and K Rd. (the 'hippie' area). It's quite expensive also, although the bowl of steaming green-lip mussels and pint of Stella (thanks Jay) were well worth it. I did kiss my first Kiwi. I was wandering past the outside diners on Princes Wharf when I heard someone shouting and pointing at me. It was a hen (bachelorette) party, and they'd decided that the bride-to-be had to 'snog the next bloke who walked past'. I offered myself around to her friends as well, but no other takers.

I do want to touch on the food (surprise) for a sec. I'm really pleased to find that Indian food is available in abundance, you can even get a masala dosa from a stand. Also, doner kebabs which can rival the Mission's lavosh wraps. I've passed on the little meat pies and other english fare thus far, although I have enjoyed a fried egg sandwich with chutney for brekkies.

The bus from Auckland to Gisborne takes 9 hours. It passes through rolling hillsides teeming with sheep, cows and cervena (herds of deer). The North Island was formed through volcanic activities, and I could smell the sulfurous mud pools of Rotorua as I ate my truckstop lunch. I expected a bit more upon my arrival in Gisborne. I chacked into the Flying Nun Backpackers - former nunnery and first training ground of NZ's famed diva Dame Kiri Te Kanawa. Gisborne is a shipping port with some of the best surf beaches and the main area for Chardonnay production here. It is the first place on the planet to see the sun rise each new day. It's also pretty undeveloped economically and touristicly. It is the main town on the aptly named Poverty Bay, where Capt. Cook's cabin boy Nick, first sighted the NZ coast. I saw alot of empty storefronts and big liquor stores. I left having only visited the cellar door (tasting room) of NZ giant Montana, which owns 70% of all of the vineyards here, and was recently purchased by Allied Domeq - not very good wines - and a boutique winery/cafe /cheesery called The Works that had a nice Chenin Blanc. Next time through I'll hire a car and get out to surf and sip in better style.

Next up: Napier, the Hawkes Bay region and Toad Hole, ummm, Hall.

Gung Hay Fat Choy

2005-02-11T20:47:00.000+13:00

It's the Year of the Rooster, the return of my birth year, and not to get too cocky, but that's something to crow about. (I think you can see where this is going.) The Chinese believe that your animal year is a time of strength and growth. I can dig it, but I'd have to add that my family and friends deserve some credit as well. Thanks for helping me get here today (a stinky little internet room in an Auckland hostel, hmm?). A special shout-out to Stephen for the garage (and bad jokes), Marcus for the closet and Dawn & David (and Rueben) for the basement. I know you guys will have a fantastic garage sale.

Well, I haven't showered for three days and even more timezones. I plan to lay low in Auckland for a couple, then tour the Bay of Islands and work down to Hawkes Bay for some Bordeaux varietals.

Thinking of you all -

Matt

2005-01-28T15:51:00.000+13:00

We'll Have A Barrel Of Fun

Let The Games Begin

2005-01-28T15:24:00.000+13:00

Hey Ya'll -

Watch this space for updates of my adventures as I travel in New Zealand.