Barreling Down

When fermentation comes to its death throws (it does not stop suddenly, but rather continues in a weakened stake, the new wine throwing CO2 off for a while) it is time to drain the tank, shovel out and press the skins, then settle the new wine into barrels for their winter nap. I’m amazed out how much of what is in the tanks is actually not wine, but spent berries. The free run wine is only a small fraction of what is in the tank. This is generally reserved, pumped to another tank to wait for the lees (sediment) to settle out. This new wine is generally slightly bitter and green (young tannins and sharper acid), but interesting.

Once the berries are sent to the press, the gently pressed wine is tasted for its tannins, which are higher than the free run wine, but may be included in the lot, and thus pumped to the tank. Or it may be too tannic, and will be set aside for a different lot. The hard press wine is always set aside.

A day of two latter, we will come back and rack a tank, that is, transfer it once again to a different tank, this time leaving behind any sediment that has fallen to the bottom. This is the start of making a wine clear and clean. Once racked, the wine is ready to head to one more container, this time French white oak barrels. Only about 25 percent of the barrels are new, the rest divided up from previous years. In the barrels, the wine will undergo secondary fermentation, transforming the green, tart malic acid, which makes the wine taste young, into lactic acid, giving a softer feel to the wine. Oak also allows the wine to slowly breath, and the barrels will regularly be topped up so that the wine does not oxidize too much.

Meanwhile, all the mistakes get sent to Tank Zero. Tank Zero is what we euphemistically call the drain. How does wine end up there?

• While dragging hoses between too close barrels, a valve gets tapped and wine shoots in the air, on the barrels, and on you.


• After mixing the tank, detach the tank mixer without closing the valve, then attempt to close the valve while the mixing rod is still in. Note: Shirt will turn purple.


• Forget to correctly measure the volume of wine you are transferring to a smaller tank. Wine shoots out the top, and into Tank Zero.


• Keep a pump running even if the wine is not flowing through it. The wine trapped in the pumping chamber will burn to a cotton-candy-carmel crisp. Take a part the pump and dump all the wine in the hose.


• Become slightly distracted while filling barrels. If you look away at just the right moment, a geyser of wine will shoot out the top, stan the barrel, and flow to the drain.


• Turn on a pump before checking each connection, or the end point of your hose.

Of course, all of this is generally done right as the winemaker walks around the corner and see you, so that your actions are recorded and humorously discussed at lunch.

The Cap

One regular, and critical task in the winery, and one of my favorites, is punch-downs.  Punch-downs refer to breaking up and submerging, literally pushing down, the cap of skins and seeds that float, or are pushed to the top of a tank. This is what makes red wine; by mixing up the grapes in their juice, skin phenolics are extracted, color and tannins are imparted and the juice develops character. As the juice ferments, the berries are pushed to the top by carbon-dioxide.



When fermentation is in full swing, we punch-down four times a day. In the morning a cloud of C02 can be seen when you first break the cap, as the warm gass breaks through to the cold air. The cap is three feet thick, and rolls like a wave when you push on one side. Traditionally this is all done by hand, with a metal paddle, but we are afforded pneumatic arms the take much if the work out of the job. Still, we run around, trying to cycle through a dozen tanks.
The point of a punch down is not just to extract color and tannins.

Fermentation, through the mechanism of CO2, stratifies the tank, and the top of the juice can be several degrees warmer than the bottom. Mixing the tank helps keep the temperature even. And it does so gently, which is important to Pinot Noir, as it benefits from careful handling.

What I love about the punch-downs is seeing how each tank is unique, depending on the vineyard or lot or stage of fermentation. Some tanks give off a very fruity aroma, as they go through the cold soak. As the juice turns to wine, fermentation imparts new scents to the wine; some tanks give off a savory, gamey bouquet, others maintain a their primary fruit character. Each tank is different, and a map of aromas and bouquets in the winery has developed in my head.

Water-backing

It is a common practice in California, due to the “perfect climate”, to allow grapes to ripen to “phenolic maturity”. Phenolic compounds are contained in the skins and seeds of grapes, and by allowing them to ripen to maturity means that they will not impart bitter woody tastes (like over-steeped tea, from the seeds) and will have more developed fruit aromas/flavors (from the skins). However, this often means that grapes are picked when they are at 26° brix, or sometimes higher. As brix is a measure of sugar, and sugar is converted to alcohol, wine made from these grapes would be high in alcohol: around 15% and higher. This is considered acceptable for some varieties, to some people. There is, of course, a way to lower the alcohol by adding water to the must to dilute the sugars. And depending on the philosophy of the winemaker, this is not only acceptable, but the right approach to making “balanced” wine in California.

Of course, when fruit ripens, becoming sweeter and sweeter, it lose acidity. And acidity is what makes wine good to drink with food, it makes it refreshing and cleanses the palate (think lemonade!) So to make balanced wine with grapes that are “phenolically” ripe, winemakers must add tartaric acid (a grape’s natural acid, though in this case from it has been extracted from grape sources, only to be added back to grapes) in addition to water. This may seem like a roundabout way of taking care of the problem... why not just harvest the grapes when the acid and sugars are in balance? I ask that question as well, and the answer I come up with is that wines with ripe fruit character sell. Also Americans are just not phased about having additives, from natural sources or not, in our food or drink. No one is really outraged about a little chemistry... after all some of us (read: I) drink Red Bull from time to time.

Now, to say that this (it has a name: water-backing) is common, is not to say that everybody does it. Just like not every wine is adulterated with Mega Purple. But just as Mega Purple is added to give uniform color to a wine to make a consistent product, water-backing provides the winemaker with a degree of control over the wine (specifically the alcohol content and acid) to create a uniform product that will be acceptable to the (American) market. Simple as that; its not romantic, its business.

There are winemakers out there who disagree, and question the acceptability of the practice. I’ve seen back labels that stated the ingredients in the wine, which read “organic grapes”. Of course I thought that it was BS. Besides being hard to imagine anyone making a reliable living depending on spontaneous fermentation, not adding yeast nutrients or enzymes, there is the question of what else could constitute an ingredient in wine making. After all, oak barrels play a significant role in the aroma, flavor and feel of a wine; should they to be included on the ingredient list - after all tannins from the oak leech into the wine. Another issue is vintage variation. With so much chemistry, and such ease of ripening, its easy to make a very consistent product from year to year. Great for creating a product, but frankly boring; if nothing ever changes, why put a date on the bottle? Lastly, if the grapes ripen so easily, to such high levels of sugar, it raises the question of how appropriate the variety is suited for the place. In physiological terms, grapes ripen faster in warm weather, but developing complex flavors takes a long slow ripening period. When you ripen too fast, you get too much sugar, not enough flavor. Though some would say that its just a different expression. Or, climate change can be tasted in the glass. And while water-backing is illegal in France under AOC rules, producers there have the right to add beet sugar to the must to increase alcohol. Is this any better or worse?

The point of all of this is not to question the decisions of winemakers and winery owners. Rather, it is to give context to this anecdote:
I found myself adding approximately 60 gallons of water to a tank of must to bring the brix down to 24°. To do this we use a large gauge that connects to the end of a hose via a quick release connector. The gauge is large, and heavy, and awkward to hold. And it takes about one minute for 10 gallons to flow, so I was looking at standing there, holding the gauge for six minutes. After about 30 seconds of holding the hose, I  attempted to adjust it and find a more comfortable position. This is when the quick release connector came to rest on the edge of the fermentation tank, and did just that; it quickly release the water gauge. Right into the tank. And disappeared into a mess of grapes.
I stood there dumbstruck. There was really nothing I could do to retrieve it. I couldn’t get into the tank, or just reach in... it was 15 feet down a dark tank, under 6 feet of juice and 3 feet of grape skins. And there was no way to ignore it. Eventually I would have to tell somebody, because I would not be able to complete my tasks - it would look awfully weird if I went around carrying buckets of water instead of using the hose.



So I went to tell the cellar master, figuring, at least he would be able to find another water gauge. He left into action (literally... he is a bit hyper) while I stood there, still coming to terms with the idiotic thing I had just done. While I began to prepare to transfer all of the juice from one tank to another, then dig out the gauge from the remaining grape skins, the cellar master had already rigged up a crazy rake taped to a telescopic pole, and was ready to go fishing.
After just a few attempts, we managed to get the offending piece of metal out, much to the relief of the winemaker. And then he told me about the time he accidentally dropped a bin (yeah, a bin that holds a half ton of grapes) into one of the fermentors. That made me feel a little better.

On a related topic, some interesting articles on Natural Winemaking:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/02/dining/02pour.html?_r=1

http://www.alicefeiring.com/feiringsquad/wine/natural_wines_t.html

http://www.vinography.com/archives/2009/09/natural_wine_the_panel_transcr.html

Sorting

A visual accompaniment to the previous post. It basically shows the sorting table, the de-stemmer, and a "side dump" into an open top fermenter.

Enjoy.

M.O.G.

Its been busy around the winery for the last 6 days. We’ve been getting loads of grapes in, 20 or 30 tons each day. As these grapes get processed, we need to punch down the caps or pump the juice over. But more on this later. The first thing that goes on is weighing and organizing the lots of bins that come in. Because each block of each vineyard gets sent to different tanks to be vinified separately, we need to keep them organized on the crush pad so that we don’t sent the wrong lot to wrong place, or mix lots together.

Once organized, these grapes will be visually inspected and sorted on a large conveyor belt. Bins are dumped on to the sorting table and we pull out any “Matter Other than Grapes”; leaves, twigs, rocks, frogs, crickets, dragonflies, clusters shriveled into raisin, second crop (latter blooming fruit that is unripe), and clusters infected by botrytis (noble rot). Each block of fruit, and sometimes each bin varies in how clean they are. Well farmed vineyards, with good picking crews, offer clean lots, and we let most of the grapes pass with only a few things to pick out. Some lots can be from problem areas, so infected by rot, with grapes so dehydrated as to resemble clods of gray dirt, that the speed of the conveyor must drops to a crawl so that we have time to pick it all out.

While at the sorting table, I asked the assistant winemaker about the quality of the fruit we were sorting, and weather is might deserve a vineyard designate wine. His answer was that he didn’t know. Perhaps, but that could only be determined once it was wine, and of course, the wine would have to be distinctive enough to merit being held apart. This is why, the most important step in the whole process of winemaking is probably keeping individual lots separate and organized. Later in the year, the winemakers will sit down and taste and analyze and give thought to what belongs where, blended or set apart. But by fermenting them separately, they are taking part in a long, slow experiment to determine the characteristics of a vineyard, or a portion of a vineyard.

Our pace is determined by the type of fermenter (open or closed top) we will use for that lot. For open top fermenters, which will require punch-downs (to extract color and flavor from the skins), we dump the fruit directly into the tank from the bin, using the forklift. This means we have to change out bins and wait for forklift drivers. With closed top fermenters, we attach a must pump that continually drives the juice and berries into a tank. This leads to faster sorting, but tunnel vision ensues. And when I close my eyes at night, all I can see is grapes, passing by me, and my muscles strain to grab at the leaves and unripe clusters.

By the noon, after sorting for over 4 hours, the table is sticky from sugary grape juice, and I as well am covered with sticky juice, up to my elbows. The front of my pants, covered in juice has collected twigs and leaves. We must hose down the table and bins and de-stemmer before we break for lunch, lest the juice dries out, leaving an near impossible cleaning task for the end of the day. Even so, after another four hours of sorting in the afternoon, the equipment is covered in a layer of sugar and tartaric acid that has built up and needs to be pressure washed off.

56 seconds of automated winemaking

Here is a short video of our first fruit coming in.

First (red) grapes

Our first fruit arrived today. Nine tons, approximately. Which sounds like a lot, but its rather a small amount, when dealing with 2000+ gallon tanks. The pinot noir was not high quality fruit, rather this will be used for blending in a low end bottling, or may end up being sold on the bulk market, bottled, labeled and sold under a different brand.



Its hard to say why these grapes are of lesser quality, as their sugars and acid match our targets. Yet, these grapes come from a warmer region, ripen faster and are cropped at higher tonnage per acre, which all combine to reduce the intensity of flavor in the resultant wine... something that is hard to imagine when plucking one from the bin and popping it into your mouth. They taste of grapes after all, not black cherries, wet wood, cocoa or any other descriptor you would likely get in a pinot noir wine. The winemakers art it to picture this future manifestation and make his decisions based on this potential.



But beings grapes determined to be destined for lesser futures, our operative was to process these grapes quickly. Its stunning how automated much of this process can be. After weighing the bins, forklifts lift bins into a tray, which tips the grapes into a hopper. An auger feeds the grapes into the de-stemmer/crusher, which dumps berry skins and juice into an auger fed pump, which leads to a fermentation tank. While doing this, small amounts of sulfur dioxide solution are added (to prevent bacterial spoilage; see earlier post), as well as dry ice, which keeps the must temperatures down to slow fermentation. The twenty or so bins of grapes were processed rather quickly, leaving only clean-up.
A video of the whole process will follow.

Hazards of Lunch

Much of the permanent cellar crew here at the winery, are Mexican in origin. And one of the pleasures of working with them, aside from learning Spanglish, is lunchtime. We all eat a leisurely lunch in the shade of the winery garden at communal picnic table. The Mexicans often share their overflowing tuperwares, with the oft repeated question, “Taco?”

Beside corn tortillas, the other staple is chillies. All sizes and colors are brought out, with commentary on their flavor, heat and so on. Of course, spicy scales are very personal, and its hard to know what it means when someone says that a certain chili can be eaten like candy.

This last week, I was enjoying my simple pasta lunch, then was temped to try a bright red jalapeño. At first it was sweet and tangy, then it was intensely hot.
Then I rubbed my eye.
Even through I had washed my hands, there was still some oil on my fingers. How ironic that the ignition of my eye with volatile chili fluid occurred right before our general harvest safety meeting. Next time I have chilies with lunch, I’m wearing gloves.

Cellaring wine

A few lots of last year’s wine still remain in the cellar room; some five tanks, and a little over 50 barrels. We took the barrels down from their stacks, with the fork lift, and gingerly set them outside while it was still cool outside. We are taking samples to measure sulfur level.

Sulfur occurs naturally in wine. During fermentation, yeast break down amino acids to make nitrogen available, and some of which contain sulfur atoms. When this sulfur is released, it bonds to oxygen, creating sulfites. It is serendipitous that these sulfites occur naturally, as they are beneficial, preventing oxidation and bacterial spoilage. But they often occur at very low levels, and dissipate over time, making the wine vulnerable, which is why we add sulfites to wine... anything other than a clean, fresh tasting wine would be unmarketable. So we measure the wine for sulfur levels, and then make additions as necessary.

The bungs are cleaned before prying them out of the barrels. A wine thief is inserted and lots are aggregated into beakers which are then sent to the lab. Meanwhile, reserve wine is brought out of the cellar, pumps and hoses attached. Once additions are made, we pump reserve wine into the barrel to top them off, then pound in clean rubber bungs with a mallet. Keeping the barrels full means less oxidation.

The tanks are adjusted too. Sampling from the tank is much easier, if messier. 3000 gallons are held back by valves. When opened slightly, wine sprays furiously, so we keep the beakers close and we stand to one side. Adjusting means climbing to the catwalk and opening a sealed hatch. Its mixing that's the problem. A propeller has to be inserted into a sealed tank to turn over 3000 gallons of wine, then removed. Order of operations becomes imperative; clamping, sealing, opening, locking, always double checking, and working though the set of actions. From there the tanks and barrels rest, waiting for bottling.

Sanitation

The landscape is slow and beautiful; the fog is there when you wake up. It reaches through Napa, up the valley, and hangs out in Los Carneros past 11:00 am. The afternoon is warm, but the winds blow through the vine-rows. The circuitry of the PV array hums, the bird canon sounds every few minutes, bats chirp from their roost.

The process of preparing for harvest begins with cleaning. The fermenters are covered in cobwebs and pigeon droppings, despite the bird netting. Last years wine is bottled, or mellowing in barrels. You drag hoses from place to place, filling buckets, and spraying the tanks. You mix solvents, cleaners, sanitizer. You climb in through port holes, stainless steel gymnastics, vinifying yoga. You scrub, spray, rinse, and exit in reverse. Repeat. Barrels are



cleaned. Dark berry and carmel wood aromas are being washed out and into a grate in the concrete. You seal the tanks with rubber gaskets, clean tarpaulin covers and plastic sheets. Dozens of different types of containers pile up. Macro bins, five gallon buckets, French oak barrels, steel kegs, glass bottles. Plumbing is everywhere; water, glycol, nitrogen, air. As grapes become wine, we will begin to juggle them from one container to another. Pumps pushing must into tanks, nitrogen pushing newly fermented wine into barrels.

Wine, as an agricultural produce takes time, preparation, planning, thought. It is not a product that can be delivered to market carelessly or immediately. You think about it, test it, sort it, process it, package it, market it, ask it to be considered, consumed thoughtfully. Producing wine is very involving. There is a considerable team of people working in concert, for the next few months trying to transform raw fruit into a value added product, a more complex expression, a preserved context. But for now, we wait for the grapes to ripen. They are on their own schedule, carefree of our desires. They ripen slowly, we sample them, de-stem them, crush them strain them, then test them, for sugars and acids. And we wait.

The Silverado Trail

Yesterday I went for a ride from Napa up the Silverado Trail to St. Helena. It was about 20 miles up there. The road was well paved with a wide shoulder, wineries located every half mile. The early afternoon was pleasant, but on the way back the wind picked up and tired me out as I headed back to Napa.

St. Helena was nice, full of art galleries and home-ware stores, not least of all the CIA Greystone campus store. I passed by the new LEED Gold dormitories for culinary students, stopped by a wine store for a tasting, and then headed back.

The valley is amazingly beautiful. The oak shrub hilltops, and the flat valley floor, rows of cabernet, the small towns and hotspot restaurants. The trucks hauling bins to wineries use the same roads as the tourist buses. Although its still seems buzzing with people, the number of people out here is definitely less than I expected, due I'm sure, to less disposable income. Still, the grapes will ripen and be vinified, just like any other year. I'm still waiting for the grapes to arrive at the winery; perhaps by the end of the week.

Harvest in Los Carneros

It is August, and I have temporarily relocated to Napa. I am taking a break from my desk job, and I am working a harvest as a cellar intern. I am doing this because I want to see what goes into making wine. I want to follow the process and learn the production of wine. I want to be one of the sets of hands that touches the clusters of grapes that turns into wine, and reflect on what it took to make that barrel, that bottle of wine. I want to be close to what wine is. And so I have begun work at a medium sized winery in the Carneros district of Napa, south of the town, where the fog lingers, the wind blows in the afternoon and pinot noir rules. I’ll be documenting what I can of the harvest, sharing the day to day, as well as the revelations.