Wine is Grapes, Science, and People
A few years ago, a book entitled The Secret Life of Dogs was all the rage. Well, I just finished A Very Good Year, the story of "The Journey of a California Wine from Vine to Table" and for me this story of the secret life of wine is far more interesting. And that's because it's really not about grapes - heresy, I know - but people.
Mike Weiss's book, which was run as a series by The San Francisco Chronicle, tracks the 2002 vintage of Ferrari-Carano Fume Blanc (Sauvignon Blanc) as it goes from vine to glass, from the field and crush pad to a white-linen restaurant table in Manhattan. Along the way we meet the wealthy proprietor, Don Carano, the winemaker and his acolytes, the vineyard manager, the head of sales and marketing, and the field workers, one a tragic character who takes his own life in Mexico after the harvest. Into these personal stories are interwoven professional jealousies, seemingly creative decisions based mainly on accounting spreadsheets, the false ostentation of California wine culture, and the inordinate power of a handful of wine writers that would make the drama-queens and kings in Falcon Crest blush like a dry rose.
So what? Does anyone who just wants to appreciate wine and recognize good bargains really need to know any of this stuff? Isn't it much more valuable to understand the French AOC labeling system? Or to know that a Chianti is made primarily from Sangiovese?
Well, no.
John Buechsenstein, my winemaking instructor at the Rudd School in St. Helena, talked at length about the fact that winemakers don't really "make" wine. And he's a winemaker! But he's wrong in one sense: the winemaker and all the people who touch the vines, grapes, juice and must, tanks and barrels, bottles and labels, even cases and shipping containers do contribute to the wine's personality. A bunch. And therefore they have a lot to say about its appeal to the consumer - you. So when deciding which wine to have with your stew, steak or salmon, and how much to spend, remember that you are about to taste the handiwork of dozens, perhaps hundreds of people, including some highly paid corporate executives.
John was right, of course, in that fruit quality is the most important thing for making great wine. And here, the vineyard manager puts his or her very powerful stamp on your wine. But the winemaker does have a lot to say about what you'll smell, taste and enjoy. Did he or she ferment in tank, or barrel, or blend wine fermented both ways. How long did the reds stay on the skin? What type of yeasts were used? Was the nascent wine aged in oak? French or American? For how long? How soon after fermentation was it racked, and how many times? Was there a secondary fermentation to soften the acid? Was it bottle aged before release?
These days, the style choices you taste are dictated as often by a general manager, accountants and CFO as by the winemaker. And those choices may be driven by a parent company located thousands of miles away, and determined primarily by the interests of shareholders.
Sometimes that can be ok. Sometimes. I was a little chagrined to learn that Jackson Family Wines (Kendall-Jackson) had just completed the acquisition of Murphy-Goode Winery in Sonoma on the August 2006 day that I visited. Jackson is gobbling up wineries; in the US alone the company sold five million cases in 2004. And K-J is known, correctly or not, for covering up harsh tannins, astringency and high acidity in its wines by leaving in a higher percentage of residual sugar.
Now, my genteel host at Murphy-Goode told me that the Jackson folks assured the M-G people that they'll be hands-off, letting this 170,000 case winery continue to produce the exceptional stuff for which it's known. Let's hope so. In the name of economics, a expanding wine market but shrinking number of independent producers could spell real harm to the industry, many fewer choices, and some very disappointing wines in the near future.
And those decisions will all be made by people.
Mike Weiss's book, which was run as a series by The San Francisco Chronicle, tracks the 2002 vintage of Ferrari-Carano Fume Blanc (Sauvignon Blanc) as it goes from vine to glass, from the field and crush pad to a white-linen restaurant table in Manhattan. Along the way we meet the wealthy proprietor, Don Carano, the winemaker and his acolytes, the vineyard manager, the head of sales and marketing, and the field workers, one a tragic character who takes his own life in Mexico after the harvest. Into these personal stories are interwoven professional jealousies, seemingly creative decisions based mainly on accounting spreadsheets, the false ostentation of California wine culture, and the inordinate power of a handful of wine writers that would make the drama-queens and kings in Falcon Crest blush like a dry rose.So what? Does anyone who just wants to appreciate wine and recognize good bargains really need to know any of this stuff? Isn't it much more valuable to understand the French AOC labeling system? Or to know that a Chianti is made primarily from Sangiovese?
Well, no.
John Buechsenstein, my winemaking instructor at the Rudd School in St. Helena, talked at length about the fact that winemakers don't really "make" wine. And he's a winemaker! But he's wrong in one sense: the winemaker and all the people who touch the vines, grapes, juice and must, tanks and barrels, bottles and labels, even cases and shipping containers do contribute to the wine's personality. A bunch. And therefore they have a lot to say about its appeal to the consumer - you. So when deciding which wine to have with your stew, steak or salmon, and how much to spend, remember that you are about to taste the handiwork of dozens, perhaps hundreds of people, including some highly paid corporate executives.
John was right, of course, in that fruit quality is the most important thing for making great wine. And here, the vineyard manager puts his or her very powerful stamp on your wine. But the winemaker does have a lot to say about what you'll smell, taste and enjoy. Did he or she ferment in tank, or barrel, or blend wine fermented both ways. How long did the reds stay on the skin? What type of yeasts were used? Was the nascent wine aged in oak? French or American? For how long? How soon after fermentation was it racked, and how many times? Was there a secondary fermentation to soften the acid? Was it bottle aged before release?These days, the style choices you taste are dictated as often by a general manager, accountants and CFO as by the winemaker. And those choices may be driven by a parent company located thousands of miles away, and determined primarily by the interests of shareholders.
Sometimes that can be ok. Sometimes. I was a little chagrined to learn that Jackson Family Wines (Kendall-Jackson) had just completed the acquisition of Murphy-Goode Winery in Sonoma on the August 2006 day that I visited. Jackson is gobbling up wineries; in the US alone the company sold five million cases in 2004. And K-J is known, correctly or not, for covering up harsh tannins, astringency and high acidity in its wines by leaving in a higher percentage of residual sugar.Now, my genteel host at Murphy-Goode told me that the Jackson folks assured the M-G people that they'll be hands-off, letting this 170,000 case winery continue to produce the exceptional stuff for which it's known. Let's hope so. In the name of economics, a expanding wine market but shrinking number of independent producers could spell real harm to the industry, many fewer choices, and some very disappointing wines in the near future.
And those decisions will all be made by people.
