Wining with Chris

Savoring the Harvest

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Wine writer Jamie Goode, in his book “The Science of Wine,” put it best when he expounded on the miracle of plants creating themselves out of seemingly nothing but air, water, light, and nutrients from the soil. Take that mix of raw materials and chemical processes times 1,368, and you can appreciate the singularity of the vine.

However, sometimes, the vine needs some help when Nature challenges it. That’s how Marquette was born, a blue-black hybrid of Ravat 262 and MN 1094, themselves hybrids. The University of Minnesota developed this grandchild of Pinot Noir in 1989 to endure the harsh northern climate. The winters are the deal-breakers, with the average January low hovering around 10℉.

Hybrid grapes have suffered a bad rap, yet they still take it on the chin and keep producing. Otherwise, we Minnesotans might not be able to know the joy of growing regional grapes and making local wine with a sense of place. My connection with Marquette is an intimate one that I don’t share with any other grape variety. It’s a relationship cultivated by being there when a wine is born.

The Local Wine Experience

Our little neck of the woods is blessed with three local wineries. Each has similar offerings, with a tasting room and events. One implemented something different with its call for volunteers to harvest the berries.

My husband and I signed up with no idea of what to expect on that misty September morning. All we knew was that we were going to pick Marquette grapes. Fortunately, we brought gloves lest we get a crash course on anthocyanins. An employee gave us a tool to cut the bunches and a bin to collect them. We were told we could eat as many grapes as we wanted.

Marquette has smallish berries, but that doesn’t detract from their flavors of black fruits and spice with pleasing acidity. If you’ve never picked grapes, you should try it at least once if just to more fully appreciate the wine in your glass. It’s challenging work that will test your back. Shout out to all the people who help during the harvest!

Three hours and five bins later, we took a break for lunch, feeling a good kind of tired. The staff had piled our take in giant containers. Seeing your hard work is a unique feeling of accomplishment and kinship, as we all snapped photos of them. My relationship with Marquette deepened as I sipped a glass in the tasting room overlooking the vineyard.

Knowing my efforts would appear in subsequent vintages made me feel proud, even if the morning dew had soaked my socks and jeans. The work was hard, but I felt a connection to the grape and its wine as I looked into its inky color. I had never known this feeling. I had helped to make a future vintage. I became part of the wine’s story. And it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship I knew I would always cherish.

Another Harvest, Another Glass of Wine

There was no hesitation in signing up for the harvest the following year. I had to see how the grapes were doing. The year before struck my rookie’s eye as a tough year, with some bunches of rotten and shriveled berries. I came to the vineyard well-prepared with a raincoat and boots this time.

I walked directly to the trailer, picking up a tool and a bin. We picked the early-ripening Marquette again, much to my delight. I was ready to bond once again with my vinous friend. The berries looked big, bursting with flavor. The density of bunches was remarkably greater. It would be a good harvest, judging by the taste of the grapes. While I knew what to expect, it didn’t feel like work as much this time.

The wine tasted even better when we finished for the morning and enjoyed lunch. I bested my five bins with seven this time, making the reward of a meal and a glass of Marquette that much sweeter. We strolled through the rows of vines later as the staff carted the berries to the winery. I realized I knew this wine from the beginning of its journey to the glass. I witnessed its birth.

Marquette had introduced me to a new side of wine. I understood it better, noting the vine’s struggles to make it into the glass. Patches of downy mildew had taken a few, but the others endured, a testimony to their hardiness and all created from the simplest of ingredients. Marquette is a survivor with a promising future. The vines and their wine were indeed miraculous.

As we neared the end of the row, I stopped and touched the rough surface of the vine I had worked on only a few hours before. I was glad we decided to volunteer. The experience was a worthwhile stop on my wine journey. I would never look at a glass the same again. And Marquette had given me that gift of insight and understanding. No other grape had given me a raw glimpse into its soul.

I studied the vine, noticing the canes relieved of their burden and the scattered grapes on the ground for the waiting birds. Their calls filled the air as they anxiously sat perched in the nearby trees. I bent down to gaze into its canopy as I stroked its leaves, still damp from the morning dew. “I’ll see you next year,” I whispered.

Photo by Vindemia Winery on Unsplash

Wine and Its Curse of Knowledge

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The best and worst thing you can say about wine is that it’s complicated. Some relish its intricacies and mysteries. Others see it as a barrier. Usher in its curse of knowledge. The term describes the kerfuffle people often fall into when they throw themselves into a topic. They can’t get enough of it, learning everything they can about it.

Some call them experts. Others call them bores.

Wine writer Jamie Goode, in his book “The Science of Wine,” put it best when he wrote of the miracle of the vine, seemingly developing out of nothing. We can say the same of every living thing. It’s when we try to learn and, more importantly, try to explain it that we get into trouble.

Yes, wine can be complicated if you delve into the viticulture, to say nothing of wine law, geography, geology, climate, and winemaking. As writer Terry Theise puts it, “Wine doesn’t care how much you know about it.” It’s people who lead the way down a myriad of rabbit holes.

The Curse of Knowledge and Wine

When someone becomes passionate about a subject, the natural response is to learn more. It’s easy to do with wine, especially as you hone your tastes and discover the stories. Then something curious happens on the way to Rome. We lose our perspective as a newcomer. We become another victim of the curse of knowledge.

A wine enthusiast may seek out others of the same ilk to talk about the deeper matters. They don’t share these thoughts with casual wine drinkers because it may take too much explaining. Instead, they ruminate about terroir and tradition with fellow enthusiasts. Then, one day, they can no longer speak casually about wine.

Wine’s Need for Ambassadors

It’s not difficult to understand why wine might face headwinds. It’s had to deal with COVID, the rise of seltzers, RTDs, and CBD-THC drinks. That’s saying nothing about the war on anything traditional. Wine laws suddenly morphed into stereotypes. Let’s not even mention the confounding factors, such as climate change and the economy.

The fact remains that wine needs ambassadors. After all, it’s been a part of the human experience for thousands of years. It has been there during Mass, celebrations, and solace. It’s always been there to provide whatever comfort or support we’ve needed. It’s ingrained in our culture.

Breaking the Curse of Knowledge

Our growing knowledge of wine has been its saviour and curse. Learning more has helped people produce better and tastier products. Yet, it has also created barriers. Breaking down these walls is paramount to ensuring its continued existence.

Communication is the solution. We mustn’t assume when speaking to someone new to wine. Recently, I struck up a conversation with someone dipping their toes into the wine vat. When I mentioned the blueberry aromas I was detecting in a shared glass, he asked me why they added the berries to the wine.

I was reminded of Richard Feynman’s Technique. True understanding of a subject means being able to explain it in its simplest terms as if to a child. If you can’t, you may not understand it fully yourself. The ability to explain the presence of different aromas in a glass of wine qualifies as a topic to grasp fully before telling someone else about it.

Start with the basics. Don’t dive into secondary and tertiary aromas. Save the jargon and terminology for later, if at all. Remember that knowledge isn’t going to make the wine taste better, although it will help one appreciate it—when they’re ready.

A newcomer’s perspectives are often enlightening. I appreciate the acidity in wine, but it may taste of vinegar to someone not used to drinking it. Likewise, they may pick up on different aromas that I may have missed, like the faint smokiness of a toasted barrel.

Perhaps the greatest challenge to overcoming the curse of knowledge is letting go of having to share too much. Small bits work just as well. You don’t have to expound like the wine ~~snob~~ expert. Let the wine do the talking. It probably can say it better if given the chance.

Photo by Jaredd Craig on Unsplash

“Sleepy Thing“

Original watercolor on offer on eBay

Wine Writing and Qualifications

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A post by Henry Jeffreys about whether wine writers need qualifications to establish their cred. He cited the supposed unwritten rule by one reviewer that the WSET 3 is the minimum an individual should have to write in this field.

And as Jeffreys pointed out, tell that to Oz Clarke or Robert Parker.

Nevertheless, it’s an intriguing question. Part of the issue is the non-exclusivity of both fields. Many writers are experts in other fields. And not all wine afficiandos write about their passion. They may pursue it in other ways, such as speaking, reading, or research. “Yeah, honey, this bottle of wine is research.”

However, as any serious wine love will tell you, it’s often hard to put our passion into words. Let’s talk about what it takes to making a living with wine.

Job Qualifications

The debate reminds me of the catch-22 of applying for jobs. Some employers pick someone with a degree and no experience over a candidate with loads of experience but no degree. Which is more important for wine writers?

This question can lead to a debate of the benefits of the sommelier (via the Court of Master Sommeliers) or industry professional (via the Wine & Spirit Education Trust) versus the educational perspective of the Certified Wine Specialist (via the Society of Wine Educators) or wine scholars (via the Wine Scholar Guild).

I can’t speak to the sommelier route, although the WSET delved into food pairing right from the start. On the other hand, the CSW jumped head first into history, culture, and wine laws. The French Wine Scholar (FWS) went straight for the deep end of the pool on these fronts.

I have the WSET 3 manual. I remember being aghast at not having to know what appellations are part of the Côte du Rhône zone of production versus those outside of it. It was integral to the FWS. Of course, it’s a matter of time and the breadth of the material when covering the global scene versus one country. However, the CWS managed to dig deeper into each country and region.

The Focus of Wine Writers

Wine writers who have taken the educational path learn a lot about culture, geology, and geography. Much of it is heady stuff or as writer Felicity Carter puts it, “too much expertise.” Yet, we can rattle off the 13 permitted grapes for Châteauneuf-du-Pape or the number of times with dates that Alsace went from Germany to France and vice versa.

It may seem arcane and yes, nerdy, but it has value. It puts wine in a greater context. You can understand why Bourgogne (Burgundy) wines can be so expensive if you know how fragmented the vineyards became in the 19th century. You can appreciate the importance of vintages in Bordeaux when considering the climate and geography—and wine law.

Many wine writers focus on the wine, with little discussion about the bigger picture. Perhaps that’s fitting for a reader who just wants to find a good bottle to share with friends. Of course, that’s fine, but I’d like to take it a step further.

Understanding Wine Stories

The wine industry’s marketing focus has moved to the personal side. People want to hear from the individuals growing the grapes and producing the wine. They want it to be real instead of a mere product. But where do these stories begin?

It depends on the industry’s place in the country and history. California is a relative newcomer, with commercial success beginning in the 1960s. France’s story gets underway around 600 BC with the arrival of the Phocaeans. Many families have been making wine there for hundreds of years. These facts broaden the scope of the stories.

Many wine writers choose to live in the moment, providing detailed tasting notes for today’s bottles. Others want to know how and where the wine came to be. Qualifications are certainly one pathway to either goal. It depends what you want to get out of your wine experience.

Wine critic Alice Feiring looks to the soil for intel in the book “The Dirty Guide to Wine.” You won’t look at that glass of Pinot Noir the same way. This perspective allows you to experience the importance of place or terroir by sampling bottles from different areas.

Final Thoughts

Wine is more complicated because of the many decisions made in the vineyard and winery. That’s what makes digging into these stories so fascinating. While qualifications aren’t imperative for wine writers, they bring new insights to the table. Experience and travel to various locations are another way to get more out of that glass of wine.

Wine has been our companion for over 8,000 years. She has a lot to say. Wine writers with experience and/or qualifications are her mouthpiece. Invite the grapes and enjoy the discussion!

Photo by David L. Espina Rincon on Unsplash

Wine’s Rodney Dangerfield Moment

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Wine is thick in the midst of a Rodney Dangerfield moment. Cherished traditions and institutions end up in the crosshairs quite often. Sadly, wine is no exception. It’s taken more than its share of hits, prompting many to say it gets no respect. It’s ironic, given its place in our homes and hearts for over 8,000 years.

The problem is that the arrows come from several fronts, making it challenging for the industry to respond or pivot. Wine has been in a safe position for a long time. Its worst issue was snobbery. Yes, wine can be a simple quaff, but it can also be complicated—but only if you choose to go down that path. Let’s consider what this vinous beverage is up against these days.

25 Most Wanted Wines

Natural Wine Bringing on Rodney Dangerfield

Delving into this issue is head-scratching when you consider the facts. The term isn’t defined legally, but a few common threads exist, such as limited sulfur, wild yeasts, and, sometimes, no filtering.

First, sulfur is a “natural” by-product of fermentation. It’s there whether you like it or not. Of course, the industry’s point is the wineries don’t use more of it. Sulfur isn’t the enemy. It’s your friend if you want wine without faults, i.e., off odors or tastes. They are the things that can turn off a new wine drinker.

It’s worth noting the grapes and apples you get at the grocery store come in boxes with a sulfur mat to protect against spoilage.

Second, cultured yeasts are relatively new on the scene. They aim to tailor the beverage to the winemaker’s expectations and deliver a consistent product. Consumers want these things. While Bourgogne embraces vintages, casual wine drinkers may not appreciate the variations.

The lack of filtering is another odd one. The purpose is to give the consumer the real deal without fining agents that may precipitate out these unsightly bits. All these factors seem to create barriers for consumers. A funky bottle of wine with stuff floating in it doesn’t strike me as the best first impression.

Finallly, the other strike going hand in hand with natural is clean. These are clean wines as opposed to those made in industrial wineries. That’s a Rodney Dangerfield attack that doesn’t pull any punches. The problem is that it’s misguided and misinformed.

Non-Alcoholic Wines

While it’s not entirely new, it’s another trend that belongs with paleo diets, detoxes, and astrology. Nevertheless, the movement has legs, according to figures from consumer research firm IWSR. Gen Z and millennials are riding the train. It’s also riding the coattails of the neo-Prohibitionist crowd.

Wines are crafted low or non-alcoholic using processes like reverse osmosis or vacuum distillation. Perhaps you see the red flags. First, that’s a lot of manipulation and directly contradicts the selling points to those wanting natural wines. That’s saying nothing about the extra energy and larger carbon footprint of some companies using these methods.

Second, you have to wonder what else do these techniques remove. Flavor? Winemakers typically use fining agents like bentonite. They can bind chemically with other compounds, such as proteins, to filter them out of wine. Winemakers can also use manual methods, like racking. In this case, you simply let the particles settle to the bottom of the tank and pour off the clear liquid.

Fining agents, aka chemicals, work with specific compounds to prevent removing the stuff they want to keep, like all the other chemicals that add to wine’s flavor and aromas.

Misinformation Abounds

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse for wine’s Rodney Dangerfield moment, along comes the Church of England. News circulated that the organization had banned non-alcoholic wine and gluten-free communion wafers. It would be devastating for a practicing church member to learn they couldn’t participate in this sacrament.

However, the media spun the story the wrong way. The Church of England did not disallow either one. It has since clarified that it uses what would count as gluten-free wafers and non-alcoholic wine. Much ado about nothing.

The Wine Industry’s Response

It appeared as if the industry was flabbergasted at first when all this negative press hit the fan. Perhaps the neo-Prohibitionist movement was the most startling. However, the industry has seen the threats of these Rodney Dangerfield moments. They are responding.

Wine is typically a beverage people enjoy with others. You pop open a bottle and share it with family and friends. That underscores its social factor. People need other people for a good quality of life. If wine can bring us together, so be it.

The fact remains that wine is different. It affects us in various ways, unlike beer or spirits. It’s part of our culture and religion. It also has health benefits that other alcoholic beverages don’t have.

It’s time to take it back and stop those Rodney Dangerfield moments. Wine deserves our respect and adoration. Invite some friends over and share a bottle and conversation. To your very good health!

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Earning the French Wine Scholar Certification

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After months of study and shared bottles, I can finally call myself a French Wine Scholar. I passed my exam with the highest honors.

It was a daunting task, learning the culture, history, and geography of another country. It involved learning how to pronounce words and know their meanings. Some may think the stuff outside of wine is unnecessary. However, it’s vital if you truly want to understand the wine.

The Certifying Body

The Wine Scholar Guild offers this certification, along with Italy, Spain, and most recently, Germany. The French Wine Scholar course covers the 14 major wine regions. It’s a deep dive into everything French. Unless you live near wine country, it’s hard to appreciate how integrated the grape and the beverage are entwined into the culture.

Could you imagine a country’s leader declaring a grape variety “injurious to the human creature” as Philip the Bold did in 1395? Gamay, the grape of Beaujolais, was the source of his wrath. I can’t say I’m a member of the Pinotage fan club, but I wouldn’t take it that far.

Studying for the French Wine Scholar certification teaches you about such events, including the story of Joan of Arc. The geography lessons were engaging. Learning that the latitude of Nice in Provence at 43.69 N is not far off the 44.97 of Minneapolis was an eye-opener. It’s easy to understand why the University of Minnesota works on developing cold-hardy grapes.

The Benefits of the French Wine Scholar Certification

This study is challenging. It’s a lot of memorization, flashcards, and reading. The course is not just about wine, either. It also discusses climate change, geology, and wars through the ages. However, all these things have influenced wine’s development. That makes them crucial to study.

I also appreciated the history lessons. World War II left an indelible mark on the history of Champagne. The stories of bravery of people such as those from Moët et Chandon and Taittinger came to light from my interest in learning more about the region. You’ll never look at a bottle the same way.

Champagne. Associated with luxury, celebration, and romance

My studies allowed me to add more grapes to my growing list of sampled varieties. France has its share of those that prefer to keep their feet in French soil. It also was an education to learn how the industry almost lost everything to three unwanted pests in the country via the United States: phylloxera, powdery mildew, and downy mildew.

Wine drove science to find solutions for these vineyard scourges, paving the way for the American wine industry to solve its problems.

Studying for the French Wine Scholar certification opened doors to new insights. It helped me with food-wine pairings. Once you understand the grapes, picking the best bottle for the meal is less stressful.

The French Wine Scholar program allowed me to share bottles with family and friends. Wine truly brings people together. I’ll always treasure the conversations about the wine we drank together. I’ll wear my lapel pin proudly, remembering all the stories and good times.

Photo by Jean-Luc Benazet on Unsplash

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