Our very own Chloë Schwartz left on June 25 for a 6 month internship at Château Haut-Rian, in Entre-Deux-Mers. Read the July 19th, August 16th and Sept 16th posts for her full adventure! This is the last part of this series.

“My one-line summary of Harvest is it was August and suddenly it was mid-October and I was tired. If this doesn’t do it for you, here’s the longer version:

One day, Pauline asked me to watch her carefully as she prepared the yeast. We got two buckets of hot water and dumped them into a large tub and added cold water until it was 35-37°C. Next, we added the packets of yeast and stirred them up with our hands, which felt amazing. After we had pumped the yeast into the cuve, Pauline announced that she had to go run some errands and left me to prepare the yeast for the next tank’s fermentation! I was honored but terrified. Fortunately, it went off without a hitch, and, going forward, I prepared a lot of yeast. For white and rosé, the type of yeast used can impart significant flavors on the final wine, but it doesn’t really matter for red. That being said, there are differences between the yeasts, such as the level of alcohol they are able to withstand before dying. The yeasts used for fermentation are all the same species (Saccharomyces cerevisiae), but have brand names ranging from the clinical (“F33”) to the confusing (“Syrah”, because that strain was discovered in the Rhône). For the whites & rosés, yeast was added a couple days after the grapes had been harvested (after the wine had been pumped through a refrigeration unit and débourbage (filtering out the must) had been performed; for the reds, activated yeast was added directly to the pump alongside the freshly arriving grapes.

And then it was time for the reds. For the reds, the two presses were wheeled away and replaced with a big scaffold we constructed to hoist the large hose from the pump up and over all of the different tanks. The winery reception for the red grapes was a real pump n dump – the grapes arrived and were pumped directly into the tank. No refrigeration was necessary.

                                           Yeast is poured into the pump with the arriving red grapes / The scaffold used to deliver the red grapes to the tanks.

The contrast between the vinification for the reds and the whites/rosés was stark. Before, there had been myriad choices, with each decision imparting distinct results on the wines’ outcomes. Without their skins, the white/rosé juice was much more sensitive, which increased the pressure and decreased the productivity. The reds were easy by comparison. Whereas we could only fill one 200 hL tank (6-7 bennes), maximum, with whites on one day of harvesting, we could do 2.5 easily on a big day of reds (the record is 15 bennes).

With the reds fermenting, we began remontage and then remontage aéré (once the density had decreased a bit) to extract color and tannins from the skins and to oxygenate the tank. Remontage was a direct pump-over from the bottom to the top of the tank, while remontage aéré involved emptying the tank into an open basin that another hose pumped from over the top of the tank. This is where the faggots came into play: each tank had one faggot installed over one of its lower openings so that grapes would not pass through the hoses. Most of the tanks came equipped with small notches so that the faggots could be attached with wire. In one tank, there were no notches, so we found a large rock to hold the faggot in place. For a couple tanks, the faggots were badly made, so when the grapes passed through they stopped up the hoses. Meanwhile, at the top of the tank, the hose was connected to either what looked like a pie dish with holes punched into it or a device that rotated as liquid was pushed through it. Both did a good job of wetting the cap, but we spent the last 5 minutes of each remontage manually spraying because apparently there is always a spot that does not get covered (which is where mold, acetic acid, and all sorts of other things you don’t want in your tank will develop). Initially, we did remontage on each tank for one hour twice a day, gradually decreasing the time until we were only doing 10 minutes daily. Due to the heat and sun, the grape skins were particularly thick and therefore hard to extract from this year, but Philippe the oenologue was impressed with our color development. Like many tasks I’ve been assigned, I first found remontage incredibly frustrating and, after a couple of days, came to enjoy its rhythm.

As the season shifted into fall, the aroma of roasting peppers and the sound of hunting season filled the air. Everyone loves to complain about the hunters. They wander through vineyards they don’t own and along public running paths, with an air of entitlement as though they’re the only ones who should be occupying this land. Considering that harvest was only halfway over, it seemed particularly foolish to go hunting in vineyards. Pascal showed Géraldine and me this video at 7:30 a.m., while we were doing levage a couple months ago. As we have stood around complaining about the hunters in the past few weeks, it has been frequently imitated.

Once one of the tanks of sémillon was nearing the end of its fermentation, we transferred it to barrels. Now, the added task of twice daily bâtonnage was mixed into the routine. It is quite the upper body workout to scrape the bottom of the barrel and stir up the fine lees and it’s really loud. However, it is a good way to work off all of the harvest croissants! Performing bâtonnage dramatically raises your internal body temperature, which is quite welcome as the days grow chillier and the massive doors to the winery remain open to release the circulating alcoholic fumes. Since we initially filled the tanks, we have already done ouillage (the refilling of tanks) thrice. Ouillage happens most frequently at the beginning – by comparison, with barrels from 2016-2017, I have done ouillage three times over the course of my entire stage. I also had the opportunity to clean some barrels recently, which involved a long metal hose attachment that had a spherical shower head in the middle that sprayed water everywhere.

Everything at the winery was put on pause for one day to harvest the nobly rotting sémillon for sweet wine. It was growing on a beautiful, organic hillside parcel that is too close to the Garonne to be considered Entre-Deux-Mers, but, if made into a sweet wine, can be classified as Cadillac. Despite the stunning views, this was truly one of the most disgusting tasks I have had in my time here. For those who are not rot experts, noble rot looks just like regular rot. The only way to tell if it’s the good kind is to really stick your nose into the bunch and inhale. Reek of vinegar? Toss. Smell like nothing? Keep. But, it’s not that simple, because often a bunch will have an area of bad rot and an area of good. So you need to let your nose really explore the entire bunch and then trim away the bad bits. And there are spores that puff out of the bunches as you squeeze them. And flies swarming around the sugary juice. All of that gets into your nose too. You glance into the buckets of everyone around you and their yields look just as gross as yours. Because we were only harvesting for one day, it was hard to get a good sense of what a prime bunch looked like. The general mantra of the day was “when in doubt, toss it out”, but we were also trying to work efficiently; it’s much slower work than a regular harvest. And the yields are lower: whereas one vine renders one bottle of regular wine on average, one vine of botrytized grapes renders merely a single glass of sweet wine (if that).

                      Remontage aéré involves emptying the tank into an open basin that another hose pumps from over the top of the tank/ botrytized                                                                                          grapes: differentiating noble rot from regular rot is a delicate operation. 

This was not the end of its grossness. When we did debourbage, which we had to use a tractor benne for because we were out of space in the winery, the wine looked like the inside of an infant’s diaper. Unfortunately, bad bunches had been harvested and there was some volatile acid. The following week, when Philippe came to taste, he was in a bad mood and snottily asked if we had machine harvested the sweet wine because he couldn’t understand how manual pickers could have let this happen. Then again, I can’t really imagine Philippe, with his boat shoes, slicked back hair, and paunch accentuated by a sports coat and brightly colored scarf collection picking grapes.

One morning, my landlord, Bernard (a different Bernard), knocked on my door and asked if I wanted to join him in ten minutes to see the mascaret, which is the (tiny) tidal wave that rolls down the Garonne. What I thought would be maybe a couple of hours turned out to be an all-day event with a local association that meets for one day annually to do this walk and see the wave. We started along the river in Verdelais (claim to fame: where Toulouse-Lautrec is buried), walking by fishing shacks, guinguettes (outdoor summer restaurants), and very orderly man-made forests, before climbing uphill to Sainte-Croix-du-Mont, a village built on top of beds of fossilized oysters. In the village, we discussed the association’s finances (everyone’s annual contribution of 5 euros helps immensely) and had an auberge espagnole (a potluck) with a lot of peanuts and bourru. Bourru is semi-fermented wine that old men here love (which explains why so many were always hanging around during harvest). You can buy it at farmers’ markets, but the real objective is to know a winemaker, so you can show up at the winery any time with your empty plastic liter bottle and fill it with the tank that meets your desired level of fermentation. (For the winemaker’s opinion: Pauline was hosting a dinner party one night and a friend of hers brought bourru as a “fun thing” and Pauline was a bit miffed, seeing as she lives next to a building full of bourru.)

After lunch, we walked to a nearby château whose owner did not seem particularly thrilled to host us. He walked us downhill, below his house, into a series of super deep caves built into the oyster walls and lined with very old barrels (they were empty; some had caved in on themselves). The caves are constantly 14ºC and super humid. Graffiti that had been scratched into the gunk along the walls in the 1800s remained perfectly intact. Then we walked back down to the river — 30ish people walking along the side of the road, following Bernard’s cousin who was waving a flag (and had been intermittently lecturing us on local history all day). It felt very dangerous. By the river, we stopped at an old church built on top of a Roman temple and renovated by an adorable retired endocrinologist who enthusiastically told us about the sarcophagi (still containing bones) used to build the church and the sheep that used to live inside of it. After his rapid-fire recounting of a few thousand years of history, he received a round of applause and then we rushed off because the mascaret was not going to wait for us. We all drove to the observation point, which had attracted an impressively large group of people. Unfortunately, it had rained a bit, and the mascaret was nothing special. There were a few surfers and kayakers who had been riding it since Bordeaux, but there wasn’t much left to ride at this point. This didn’t stop more bottles of bourru from being passed around and I found myself in a long conversation with the treasurer of the club, who had made Kosher wine in Bordeaux for 15 years.

At work, twelve hour days began to feel short, but I started falling apart. My shoulder had shooting pains. Both of my elbows started bleeding and didn’t stop for days; same with my index fingers and thumbs. I kept waiting for things to get easier and, well, I’m still waiting. Physical labor in wet, cold weather comes with its own challenges.

Once all the grapes had been picked, we began an intense cleaning process that involved a week of taking every piece of machinery apart, a lot of scrubbing, power-washing everything from the floor to the exteriors of tanks, climbing into crawl spaces that had been filled with rotting grapes and cleaning them out, and soaking everything in NaOH multiple times.

                                              Post-harvest deep cleaning of the equipment / During soutirage, gravity is used to filter out the fine lees.

One respite during this wind-down was daily tastings of each tank. Pauline said that in some years, all of the tanks have tasted almost identical, but that is not the case this year — I have often had to remind myself that I’m tasting components of adjacent parcels that will be mixed together to make one wine. It has been really fascinating to taste the evolution of these tanks; despite fermentation being over, they can really change (both for better and for worse) over a couple of days. Moreover, the conventional tanks taste quite distinct from the organic and sulfur-free tanks. Because fermentation is an inherently reductive process, reduction is a common note among many of the tanks, but usually blows off with some oxidation. The main reason for the daily tastings was to decide when to do décuvage, which is when all of the must is removed from the tanks. Extraction exists on a bell curve; after it peaks in terms of flavor, you should really décuve within the next day or so to avoid astringency and other undesirable flavors.

For décuvage, we pumped the wine into another tank, ventilated the original tank a bit, and then two people entered to clear out the must, which was pressed. Initially, we were so low on space, that we had to use the two tractor bennes, a big tub, and the picking machine to hold wine (we had run out of tanks a couple days before the end of harvest). This whole process takes hours and someone needs to stand guard near the tank in case anyone inside doesn’t feel well (it’s warm + you’re doing very physical labor for an hour + the air in the tank is full of CO2 and ethanol), to stop and start the pump, and to exchange forks for shovels. Pauline did one décuvage, but otherwise it was done entirely by men. I did not complain about the gender inequality!

The guys (or, as they’re known in French, les guys) would step over a pallet placed on top of the pump to get in and out of the tank. During harvest, this pump has a grille placed over it; but for décuvage, there is no grille as the must is too clumpy to pass through it. One night at the local bar, we heard about a nearby winemaker close to retirement who had been doing décuvage that week and fell into his pump and had to have both legs removed.

One afternoon, Pauline invited me to participate with her in the Tour de Cadillac. This is a multi-city tour to raise awareness for Cadillac’s red wine appellation, Cadillac Côtes de Bordeaux. All of the participating winemakers are paired with a local wine bar or cave and then one of the appellation members, who happens to own a vintage cadillac, drives the local journalist Benjamin Bardel, as well as some cinematographers, to each spot. There, Benjamin is met with some bloggers/influencers (who have raced the cadillac on scooters) and interviews the winemaker and the bar/store proprietor while everyone films it. Pauline and I arrived in Bordeaux and wandered down a very empty block to find our assigned bar. As it was her first time doing the Tour, she feared she had been given a bad spot, but it was actually quite nice. We had received a very specific time of 6:37 for when the cadillac would be arriving and, shockingly, it was late. When it did arrive, they parked down the block in front of a car mechanic, who immediately rushed out and wanted to talk about the cadillac with its owner. This conversation lasted longer than the official interviews. Benjamin Bardel is a fast talker who knows his camera angles. After they left, some friends of Pauline’s came and we hung out and poured for customers. An older woman stopped by and said she needed to drop her dog at home but would come back. Within minutes, she had returned and, without being invited to do so, pulled a chair up to our table. She even called out to a couple of her friends who happened to be walking across the street to sit down and join all of us. Subtle looks of surprise were exchanged at our end of the table, but we all chatted amicably and enjoyed the entertainment she provided.

                                                                    The Tour de Cadillac: local journalist Benjamin Bardel arrives in a vintage Cadillac.

In the long saga of “this winery doesn’t have enough space”, les guys spent last week breaking bottles of old, unsold Haut-Rian that had gone off and were taking up valuable space. Pauline had looked into whether it could be donated, but even in France, homeless shelters and food pantries don’t want old wine. Breaking a couple thousand bottles one-by-one was unfortunately the best solution that could be come up with. Meanwhile, the field work has started up again, with the installation of new wood and iron pickets. It’s very slow work and plentiful due to the havoc wreaked by the picking machine (or the reckless driving thereof, but I won’t name names). Like any endeavor, saving time and labor in one area only creates more in another.

Right now, the main tasks are soutirage (filtering) for the reds and collage (fining) for the whites and rosé. For soutirage, we use gravity to filter out the fine lees (the same way it’s been done for a couple hundred years) by setting up a hose at the top of what is essentially a wine-slide precariously set on top of a ladder, an A-frame scrap of metal, and a big basin. The wine slides down into the basin and is then sucked up by two other hoses and enters a different tank. Once we reach the fine lees, they are sent to another tank from which they will be collected for distillation. For collage, we use pea proteins that we circulate through the tank; they do a much better job than egg whites.

A few weeks ago, a former employee of the winery was visiting and les guys took one look at my stained pants and said, “this is Chloe. She works in the chai.”

A few weeks ago, we celebrated the 110th anniversary of the Cercle Populaire de Rions. Cercles are associative bars unique to Gascogne and were originally seen as a way to bring the Republic into your village (sans women and artists, who were not accepted until 2000 and minus talk of politics). Associative bars are also a way to offer alcohol and food at super low prices. I live literally on the other side of the wall from the Cercle in Rions and on a Friday night it is the spot to hang out (and for those wondering, there are, like, 3 places in town to choose from).

On Friday, we finally celebrated the end of harvest by visiting a local brewery for a tour and beer + cheese tasting, curated by a local cheesemonger. I arrived 3 minutes after the designated gathering time, but was one of the last to arrive. At this point, I am quite comfortable kissing everyone I interact with on the cheek, but there is still something so funny to me about walking into a room and having the festivities literally pause so that you can go around and kiss the cheeks of the 20 other guests. And it’s not only in social settings. Mechanics arrive at the winery and cannot commence their repairs until everyone has been kissed. While at the brewery, we couldn’t help but discuss wine. At a syndicate meeting earlier this week, it was announced that de-alcoholization would be allowed, under strict guidelines (the wine cannot be over 20%, cannot have been chaptalized, etc.). Because of the sun and heat this summer, high sugar levels arrived prior to full organoleptic/phenolic maturity, resulting in a difficult choice for winemakers of when to pick. Pauline recounted the story of being carded for buying a 5kg bag of sugar at the Costco equivalent in Cadillac last summer, in case she was illegally chaptalizing.

Even with some distance, the intensity of harvest is hard to comprehend. It feels like a total blur. But it also truly feels like I made something. As I’ve watched the leaves on the vines turn yellow and drop, I’ve felt so lucky that I got to participate in this annual conversation with nature.”

Chloë Schwartz

Did you know Ric Ocasek from The Cars was somehow connected to the birth of V.O.S. Selections?

“With the passing of Ric Ocasek on Sunday, I feel that I have to shout out my tremendous debt of gratitude to him and his band, The Cars.

By 1986, I was focused on the idea of moving to France and somehow getting involved in the wine business. By hook or by crook I knew this was the move I was destined to make. I had a free airline ticket to Paris after accumulating a lot of points flying back and forth from San Francisco to New York. I had contacted Stephen Spurrier who offered me an internship (ie non-paying) at his famous Paris wine bar/shop, the Caves Madeleine. Spurrier was still enjoying his reputation as a wine superstar-bad-boy for embarrassing the French 10 years earlier at the Judgement of Paris. My Belgian girlfriend’s mom had offered me her Daihatsu, a four-door sewing-machine with wheels that had no business being on the road (so terrible they never were sold in the USA) for my use while in Europe. What I didn’t have was enough money for meager day-to-day expenses that would take me to the vineyards of France.

I came up with the idea of sub-letting my studio apartment in Greenwich Village to make a few extra dollars, enough to get me started until I could find some employment in France. So I placed an ad in the Village Voice. Nothing. I placed another ad, and this very nice, very professional woman called me up and asked if she could see the apartment. She was a broker. I knew that subletting at a profit was not kosher, so I was very worried that somehow I would get caught out and my scheme would be ruined. But when she showed up, she got right down to business. She had been hired by the musical group The Cars to find housing for the entire entourage while they made an album at nearby Electric Lady Studios on 8^th Street. The Cars were at the height of their fame (though this would prove to be their last album, Door to Door). She didn’t negotiate. She just told me what they were “willing” to pay to house one of their sound engineers—$1500/month—and that it had to be open-ended until they finished the album, which could take months. I couldn’t believe my luck as I was only paying $350/month for my rent-controlled apartment and I had no interest in returning to New York for a long while.

I was in business! My boot-strap operation had pulled itself up and I was off to France to begin an adventure that would become V.O.S. Selections.”

Victor Schwartz

Last month, 14 VOS team members signed up for the Plastic-Free July challenge, a global contest designed to encourage millions of people to refuse single-use plastic and be part of the solution to plastic pollution. A small change with an ambitious goal: protecting our oceans and wildlife, using less natural resources, fighting climate crisis and contributing to cleaner streets and communities. Here are some of their experiences. We hope they inspire you to take the challenge, whether this month or in November! To help you during your journey, go to the bottom of this post to download our 30 days of tips.
Register here: http://www.plasticfreejuly.org

Rebekah Kennedy
Did you inspire somebody else to take the challenge?
Yes, five friends. 
Plastic-free must-have?
Rubbermaid containers. I have them in different sizes, and they are perfect for bringing my lunch and snacks to work.
Was it easier than you thought?
Yes!

Steven Beckler
Achievement you are the most proud of?
That my wife yesterday said, “I feel guilty if I do not take enough reusable bags to the store”.  
Plastic-free must-have?
My stainless steel thermos that starts as a coffee container and moves to water container in the middle of the day.
Was it easier than you thought?
Yes, it just takes a bit more effort to reprogram yourself when most stores and restaurants haven’t given it much thought. Constant “no bag”, “no fork”, “no knife” and “no napkin, please!”

Jason Albaum
Achievement you are the most proud of?
As someone who had been drinking four cups of coffee a day, I took this opportunity to also switch from purchasing coffee to making it and bringing it each morning – I’m down to 2 cups a day. At first I complained about having one more thing to carry; but the Hydro Flask fits in my bag. I thought it would not stay hot, yet the flask keeps it hot all morning!
Plastic-free must-have?
My Hydro Flask! I don’t see it as an inconvenience anymore. I use it everyday and it has become an essential part of my routine.
Was it easier than you thought?
Yes. Once I made the commitment, I had no more minor excuses. It has also helped me beginning to scale down senseless purchases and waste in other areas.

Jazmen Greene
Achievement you are the most proud of?
Leaving the plastic bags behind – they are pretty wasteful. If I could chug along without them, I did. It wasn’t a perfect July, but I used far less than I normally do. It felt good!
Did you inspire somebody else to take the challenge?
My mother got on board with me. It made it easier to leave plastic behind. She stopped forgetting to use her reusable shopping bag —and now she prefers it!
Plastic-free must-have?
Glass containers for lunch. That’s a must. It’s better for the planet, and just better all around.
Any “weird” moment to share?
Putting fruit in my purse, I was sometimes left with “eau de fruit”! – or whatever else I had in there. At least I know what I ate the day before! And I wasn’t wasteful:)
What will you be working on in August?
I’m not sure yet, but I will be more conscious than I was before.
Was it easier than you thought?
Yes. I don’t use as much plastic as I thought I did, but it made me more aware of my consumption.

Victor Schwartz
Favorite plastic-free tip?
Library books! It’s actually a plastic-free/move-your-legs-exercise-your-brain-save-the-trees tip! I try to find books at the library rather than buying them new, but if have to, I support my local bookstores. I make a point to not order from Amazon: their packaging is so wasteful!

Joanna Dorsey, administrative assistant.
Plastic-free must-have?
The wooden utensils that were a Christmas gift from our shipping company.
Did you inspire somebody else to take the challenge?
We decided to go plastic free in my house.
What will you be working on in August?
Encouraging others to go plastic free -starting with a plastic free BBQ at our house this weekend.
Was it easier than you thought?
It was quite hard because I use a lot of hair products and body creams that come in plastic containers. I think the best thing to do when transitioning to plastic-free is to take small but deliberate steps that work for you. I’m also repurposing to reduce waste: my shea butter containers are perfect to hold paper clips or rubber bands, and my coconut oil jars can be used to carry lunch items.

John Grosso, Long Island sales
Plastic-free must-have?
My 20 oz. Yeti cup. It keeps my homemade iced tea cold throughout the day, even in the heat! I also carry a thermos for coffee, should I need a pick me up. I make my own lunch – the best way to avoid prepackaged food – and I transport it in a glass container.
Was it easier than you thought?
Yes, you just need to remember to bring with you everything you need. Planning ahead is key. I’m more cognizant now of the plastic I’m using.

To help you during your journey, click here: Plastic Free Challenge – V.O.S. Selections 30 days of tips

Photo courtesy of Aaron Thorp

We had not one but three (!) great meals at Origano Cibo e Vino, the charming restaurant owned by the Marangelli family in Minervino di Lecce, Puglia. Their bread is memorable, made with a 125 year old mother, and the chef graciously accepted to send us the recipe of their equally delicious Focaccia Pugliese. It is best enjoyed with a glass of Menhir Salento Pietra Rosato, a blend of Primitivo and Susumaniello with notes of orange blossom and white flowers. The combination will take you straight to Southern Puglia!

Focaccia con pomodorini e origano – makes 4 (10 to 12-inch) focacce

. 200 g mother yeast (alternatively, use 3gr Fleishmans Active Dry yeast or Saf-Instant Red dried yeast. Works fine!)
. 450 g Senatore Cappelli durum wheat re-milled semolina (semola rimacinata di grano duro)
. 250 g flour type 0 (can be found in Italian shops)
. 100 g potatoes
. 700 g warm water
. 80 g olive oil
. 20 g salt
. 5 g sugar
. cherry tomatoes as required
. 4 teaspoons dried oregano

Directions:

Put the mother yeast, the durum and the flour into a bowl and start kneading, (if using dry yeast, mix 350g of warm water, 3g dry yeast and 5g sugar in a small bowl and wait for it to start bubbling, then add to the flours). You can use a kneader, a mixer or knead by hand. When the dough becomes hard and irregular, leave it to rest for 40 minutes.

In the meantime boil the potatoes for about 40 minutes. Leave the potatoes to cool, then peel and mash them with a potato masher.

After these 40 minutes add the potatoes and the rest of the water (350 gr) to the dough. You should add the water slowly and gradually. Add the salt and at the end the olive oil. Then knead the dough and be careful not to warm it up too much.

When the dough is ready, put it into a food container and leave it to rest for two hours.

After this time, divide the dough into 450 g pieces (or 4 equal pieces if you used the dry yeast) and leave them to rise for the entire night in the fridge at 6 degrees Celsius (42.8F).

The day after, remove the pieces of dough from the fridge and leave them at room temperature for 2 hours. Stretch the dough with your hands and put them in greased baking dish/es. Use plenty of oil to stretch and grease the baking dish. Cut in half the cherry tomatoes and put them on the focaccia by pressing them down a little. Sprinkle with coarse salt and put the baking dish/es into the oven. Cook at 210 degrees for about 25 minutes. At the end of cooking, sprinkle with dried oregano. Enjoy!

“The 100-mile drive from Les Riceys to Pouilly-Sur-Loire is one of the most beautiful in France, over the rolling farmland of the Morvan. It follows the Kimmeridgian belt and in fact goes right through Chablis (we waved as we drove past Jean-Pierre Grossot). The terroir connection of these wines, Côte des Bar – Chablis – Pouilly-Fumé, is evident. Terroir trumps variety.

Covering a wide range of a region really informs a lot as to trends and challenges. One thing we saw on this trip from Champagne through the Loire is the fungus known as Esca. The fungus gets inside of a root and kills it. Besides a labor intensive “root canal” the only other solution is pulling out the entire root and replanting—a heartbreak when you have a beautiful old vine. Esca is particularly prevalent among Sauvignon Blanc so it is a bigger problem in the eastern Loire. Another recent issue is due to global climate change. Vineyards that were never frost prone are now getting damaged by late-season freezes. Windmills can be a solution though they are very expensive and not mobile. A positive trend is the move towards larger barrels, especially the 400 liter size. This allows the wine to be less oak-impacted than smaller barriques but still benefit from barrel-aging.

JEAN PABIOT

Alain Pabiot, son of Jean, calls his estate Domaine des Fines Caillottes to distinguish themselves from all the other Pabiot cousins in town making wine. Pouilly-Sur-Loire is a wine town and nothing but; there isn’t even a café. It is surrounded by the vineyards that flank the Loire River and contain four distinct types of limestone: Bavois, Kimmeridgian, Villiers and Caillottes. These vineyards lie almost directly across the Loire from Sancerre but the wines have a very different character due to the differences in exposure and soil. We arrived just before the flowering, which was consistent across our entire trip. The vignerons were a bit on edge because along with the imminent expectation of flowers, there was also the expectation of some rough weather, which could hurt the crop before it even has a chance. Floraison is one of the very critical periods in a vineyard.

Alain’s son Jérôme is becoming an important factor in the operation, so we were glad to have him along on our vineyard tour. They don’t want green, vegetal wines, so they work hard in the vineyard to achieve balanced ripeness through leaf-pulling and shoot-training. Depending on what the vintage brings them, they may pull leaves on one side of the plant to bring in more sunshine or the opposite side to reduce exposure and slow down ripening. The latest challenge brought about by climate change is severe frost damage in parcels that have traditionally never been affected. To counter this they have bought seven wind machines (made in Seattle) at $55,000 a pop. They are very effective with each machine covering around 5 hectares. They avoid frost in two ways: drying the grapes and bringing warmer air down to the level of the fruit. They kick in automatically at 35 degrees.

In their very tidy cellar, dug under a number of houses in town, we started by tasting a 2017 Pouilly-Sur-Loire made of 100% Chasselas. The vines are 100 years old and the wine was fruity and charming with a vein of minerality running through its center. Delightful.

Next was their mainstay, the 2017 Pouilly-Fumé. This is a bold expression of Sauvignon Blanc, ripe but perfectly balanced. The 2017 exhibits tropical aromas, with top notes of pineapple. A warm vintage but there is no lack of freshness in this wine.

The 2016 Pouilly-Fumé, also from a warm vintage, showed mineral and floral aromas, with a palate more on the tree fruits like peach and apricot. The fruit was more in the background than with the 2017 and was more complex, most likely due to a year of additional bottle age.

The Cuvée Prestige has been replaced with a wine they are calling Kiméride in the 2015 vintage. The name derives from the fact that the grapes for this cuvée come exclusively from parcels of Kimmeridgian soils. This wine is even bigger, broader and more powerful than their normale bottling. It also has a stronger sense of acidity. Pabiot explained that was due to the fact that this wine has higher tartaric acidity even though it actually has lower overall acidity than the regular bottling. The wine is delicious and is clearly built to age. A fascinating and complex expression of Loire Sauvignon Blanc.

The 2015 Cuvée Séduction was an experimental idea of Jérôme’s. It takes Loire SB in another direction but is very successful for what it is. The wine is left on its lees in barrel and exhibits a leesy character in aroma and flavor. There is a roundness and creaminess about the wine which at first turned me off but then grew on me. The wine is not at all about the primary fruit but rather the complexity and secondary qualities that are locked up in Sauvignon Blanc. The jury is out.

JEAN-PAUL PICARD

We crossed over the river in a northwesterly direction to head to the hamlet of Bué in the appellation of Sancerre. Sancerre gets knocked, or lauded, for its diversity of soil types. Certainly from a commercial perspective, they are the big players in the area and everyone wants to knock them back a few notches. There are 300 vignerons in Sancerre with 150 putting wine into bottle. Picard is one of my oldest suppliers so the welcome is always warm. Young Mickaël Picard now runs the domaine, but I started 28 years ago with his father Jean-Paul, still extremely fit as he climbed their cherry tree to grab handfuls for our guests. He is always light-hearted with a constant smile. Noëlle, Jean-Paul’s wife, has run things at the winery as well as been involved in local politics. She has been the mayor of Bué for the past 10 years. Noëlle is the backbone of the operation.

The difference between Jean-Paul and Mickaël represents the difference in generations of winemakers, father being mostly self-taught, the son more broadly schooled, trained and traveled. Mickaël brings a serious rigor to his work, combined with a deep connection to his terroir. He uses indigenous yeasts for his wines, which he explains makes the wine take longer to develop.

We immediately drove over to the Loire River where Captain Sylvain and his dog Nale greeted us on the boat he built by hand. The entire Picard family were our wonderful hosts and led us through a tasting of their wines. Mickaël bought and planted vines in Menetou Salon a number of years ago so we started with a very fresh 2017 Menetou Salon Blanc. Mickaël uses the same clone of Sauvignon Blanc in Menetou as he does in Sancerre. Due to the fact that these were rather young vines the wine was very direct and simply tasty.

“We had a 6:30AM departure from San Francisco to catch a flight to San Luis Obispo, locally known as Slo. This was our gateway to Paso Robles (just call it Pass-oh because they mangle the last word into Robils which no right-minded person wants to say). We arrived to the first hot day of the trip, and this is one of the warmest viticultural areas we were visiting. Paso is the last part of California, heading south, in which the mountains run north-south, effecting a solid barrier to the cool Pacific breezes and keeping the internal hillsides rather warm. As you go south of Paso, the coastline hangs a Ralph and the mountain ranges start running east-west, allowing the cool ocean winds to funnel into the valleys. Though near each other, you could not have more diametric weather conditions than between Paso and the Santa Barbara-area vineyards.

McPrice Myers is a solid man making solid wines. We drove straight up to his vineyard which he is very proud of and started with a 2014 Blanc de Blancs. Only 3g of dosage and if the blistering heat and dust weren’t enough, this wine ripped out any remaining mucous from my tongue. The rest of the group appreciated this wine more than I did and liked the fact that he went for such a daring style. I dare you to drink a bottle.

But the vineyard is gorgeous; at 2,000 feet above sea level, this is one of the highest vineyards of the region. Mac likes to use whole cluster fermentations and he varies the amount in his various bottlings, of which he makes many. Mac is ambitious and many times he hits the mark. I would say this was easily the best group of wines of his I’ve tasted, trading in a lot of what I found overly sweet into savory characteristics. He and his wines are maturing.

The 2016 Terres Blanches is made with 38% Viognier but it surprisingly doesn’t take over the wine. It is really a lovely white. Then we had a 2017 Clairette from tank, lively young and round. It will be blended into the 2017 Terres Blanches with the Grenache Blanc, subbing in for the Viognier. Yay! Then a 2017 Viognier, big and fat and more fat, what you would expect from this grape in this location.

To the reds. 2017 Grenache from a single vineyard raised in a concrete fermenter (he is very proud of his new toy installed just last year). Concrete is a very useful fermentation tool in these hot climes as it is good for maintaining steady temperatures. Then a 2017 Grenache from the Paper Street vineyard. This was destemmed and raised in a puncheon, high toned with cocoa notes. Over the course of a long tasting, this vineyard proved to be one of the best. The next wine, from the Shadow Canyon vineyard, was 50/50 whole cluster and was the most complete of the red Grenaches. The Syrah from Luna Mata was a monster of tannins with equal fruit. Certainly an interesting wine for blending. The 2017s will be bottled in 2019, so all of these were babies.

The 2017 Syrah from Shadow Canyon shared a lot of the characteristics of the Grenache; aromatic and full. Next was a wine he calls La Turkey (La Turque, get it?) It is Shadow Canyon Syrah co-fermented with Larner vineyard Viognier. All the wines go through malo but the acidities were good.

From bottle we tasted 2015 High on the Hog, 2016 Pound for Pound, 2016 Right Hand Man (really brilliant especially for the money) and 2016 Bull by the Horns. I found that all of these wines hit their mark, were clear expressions of Paso and their respective varieties, had very accessible fruit and structure and enough acidity to keep the wines moving along your palate. Mac is definitely on to some very interesting wines in the near future.

From McPrice we drove down to Lompoc (pronounced Lom-poke) which is in the Santa Barbara region of cool wine valleys. We had set aside the next day for our visit to Sine Qua Non. We had some time in the morning so we visited Greg Brewer of Brewer Clifton. I won’t go into the soap opera but Clifton is out and Brewer makes these wines for KJ now. Greg is a brilliant winemaker and it was very instructive to taste what he is doing. He was one of the pioneers and his bright savory style of winemaking has become more typical of the region. He has nothing but praise for another pioneer of the region, Manfred Krankl, who planted grapes in sites which everyone else said could never get ripe. Greg mentioned that only Manfred picked as late as he did, end October into November. Peter Hunken followed Manfred’s lead and also planted grapes on a forsaken hillside which is on the edge of full ripening and produces brilliant wines. These are cool, cool hillsides, which may be a bit counter-intuitive for how far south you are. Don’t forget that the Pacific Ocean runs north to south with the Japan current hitting Alaska and only then coming down the California coast. Even in July you can’t get into the water in San Francisco; it is bone-chilling.

Our visit to Sine Qua Non brought us through gorgeous rolling hills 2 hours south of Lompoc, near Ventura. Last time I was here he was planting his home vineyards and building his winery and home. It is all quite impressive and very few get to visit, though many ask. The winery reminded me of an ancient temple in modern-form. You come up to a three-story twin waterfall with exotic desert plantings surrounding a shallow pool. Elaine Krankl came running out to meet us with a big smile and hugs, then her son August, whom I had met when he and his twin brother were three. August, now 25, works at the winery, pulled in when Manfred had a bad motorcycle accident three years ago. His twin works for a monumental artist in Brooklyn (of course). We walked up to the main building and the door creaked open and Manfred slowly emerged. It was a bit dramatic for me because I hadn’t seen him since his accident, not knowing what to expect. He walks with a severe limp and needs a cane, his hair has gone completely gray but he still stands up tall and is as charming as ever.

He didn’t hesitate to take us on a tour of his vineyard, much of it planted on own-rootstock (i.e., not grafted). When Manfred planted his own vineyards, he had the chance to really let his vinous creativity run wild, planting Tempranillo, Mourvedre, Touriga Nacional, Petit Manseng, Petite Syrah and even Graciano. There may be others I missed.

Manfred does not come across as a know it all, just the opposite. He loves to experiment, which for him is more akin to playing and creating. He is essentially an artist using winemaking as his medium. Sounds corny, but he is so disarming about it that you don’t feel put off, but rather pulled in by his charm and superb taste. He tries new things and doesn’t hesitate to say when it doesn’t work: he bought concrete eggs but says he doesn’t much care for them (he uses them just for his white wines), he is also experimenting with clay amphorae and 1,000 Litre Clay Hippos which he re-designed with legs to more easily access the spout — smart.

After we tasted the Deux Grenouilles white wine (named for the Deux Chevaux car on the label), he did not have any other finished wines for us to taste out of bottle (all sold) but he was very generous with a large range of barrel samples. He makes numerous separate lots from which to build his wines (he speaks about it in the video we filmed). He numbers each lot in order that he does not know the provenance, which might bias his judgment. He forces himself to be completely honest and lets the wines create themselves with his guidance. He mentioned how he will tinker with the blend, which may take him in different directions and cause him to backtrack. Fascinating to hear. He loves having a very varied palette from which to create.

With lunch, we tasted a home-vineyard 2016 Grenache from barrel; the 2015 #6 Grenache from an old Gamba 700-litre barrel that had been blended with 25% Mourvedre, all from the Eleven Confessions Vineyard; 2016 Mourvedre from the Molly Aida vineyard that had just the most gorgeous aromatics, an amazing example of this variety; 2015 Graciano that was raised for a year in a demi-muid, it ripens very late and is noted for its high acid, his had a lovely suave texture with notes of cocoa; 2016 Touriga Nacional, a real big boy showing notes of fig and black fruits; own-rooted Syrah co-fermented with Petit Manseng filling in for the more typical Viognier component, an awesome wine that was at once aromatic and deeply fruited, lifted yet dense; a Syrah from his Eleven Confessions Vineyard co-fermented with destemmed Viognier; and a Petit Syrah raised in new oak barrels from the Third Twin Vineyard up in Los Alamos that is supposed to be a most spectacular site, according to Peter Hunken.

It is hard to describe the feeling of pride I felt to be at the table and working with such a talented person for all these years. Manfred, never shy, is rather humble in the face of the great challenge of winemaking and the extraordinary luck (his words) that he has had in life attempting to make wine, never thinking it would become his vocation (he thought he would remain a restaurateur and winemaking would be a nice hobby). He takes this humility to the winemaking process, stripping his mind/ palate naked and working with what the vineyard gives him. It is important to him to stay honest, and he succeeds, taking nothing for granted. Since not many people get to taste his wines, there is much naysaying and jealousy for his tremendous success, but when you do experience his wines, you find all the elements of greatness: proper ripeness of fruit, tension, lift, complexity and length. Terroir might be a bit of a stretch but in his wines there are certainly qualities of the cool, long ripening season of the hills north of Santa Barbara. Manfred certainly respects European terroir, as he drinks a lot of European wines and travels quite a bit, but he is rather skeptical about the notion of terroir in California. His wines are a unique expression, ultimately his expression.

We drove back to Lompoc and luckily could walk to dinner at Peter Hunken and Amy Christine’s house (Black Sheep Finds). Lompoc is a charming town of small houses that feels kind of cozy. You wouldn’t know it was an important wine center for the region with many of the best wineries located in the “Wine Ghetto” (that is literally what the sign says). They made us a wonderful vegetarian dinner and we drank well of their wines: Champagne and a magnum of 1998 Quintarelli. We were thirsty. The next morning we went to the Ghetto and visited the compact space that is Black Sheep Finds; but first we drove out to their pride, the Joy Fantastic Vineyard, which they planted from scratch in 2014. Driving up to the vineyard, you pass the Sashi Moorman/ Raj Parr vineyard for their Domaine de la Côte wines. You spot the Joy Fantastic Vineyard from quite far because it is a stunning site way up on the hill, much higher than the Côte Vineyard, which offers many advantages. Like many talented visionaries we met on this trip, they were warned not to plant up this high because “they would never get their fruit ripe.” Well they did and it did (get ripe, that is). Peter and Amy have been buying fruit up until now and still need to do so as their new vineyard comes on line, but from what we tasted, there are some very exciting wines in store from their Joy Fantastic Vineyard (Amy is a big Prince fan).

Back in the Ghetto, we tasted their 2016 Chardonnay which is just the third leaf from the JF vineyard. The aromatics were absolutely delightful; though the palate thinned out, you could sense the potential for the Chardonnay off this site.

The 2016 Holus Bolus Roussanne is from the famed Bien Nacido Vineyard; year in year out, this wine is a star. The fruit used to go to Qupe. This is a cool site for Roussanne which is perfect. The wine is made a bit backwards, fermented in wood and aged in concrete but the results are brilliant, with fresh fruit flavors and a terrific texture. We tasted the 2017 from tank and it is even richer than the 2016.

Amy and Peter Pinot Noir 2014 is a wine we have in stock but it was good to taste it again. It is a fruit forward PN that is easy to love. We then tasted the 2016 JF Pinot Noir that was bottled last August. Again one could see the amazing potential of this vineyard. More texture and complexity than the Amy and Peter.

I hate to say how much I love this wine: the Presqu’ile Vineyard Syrah. Hate to say because 2017 will be the last year they can buy fruit here. The 2016 has lovely, spicy aromatics with a definite note of black pepper that runs straight through the blackberry fruit to the finish line. Just 13.5% alcohol.

The 2016 Franc de Pied Syrah is, as is typical, more tuned up than the above. This is an own-rooted vineyard with more intensity and tension in the wine, more savory qualities. The wine just needs to relax a bit. Finally we tasted the 2016 JF Syrah, bottled last August. Again, it shows all the depth and aromatics that their home vineyard promises.

We are very fortunate to be working with Peter and Amy at the very beginning of the winemaking journey that is Black Sheep Finds. They are two extremely talented people that are doing all the right things, which will soon bear fruit. The bottlings we have are excellent, and the future wines will be even better.”

Victor Schwartz