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Wine and Vine:
05/01/2008
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The wisdom of grape growers and bumper stickers
Ever see that bumper sticker that says “Sonoma County – where Great Wines begin”? I always wondered about it. What exactly does it mean? I can hear Andy Rooney asking, “So if Sonoma County is where the great wines begin, then where do they finish? Does it mean that these wines are setting off on a big trip and they just depart from here? Is it a train trip, or do they go by plane? Or maybe this where they grow up, but go off to do their graduate work elsewhere in some exotic location where they have trees that grow Brie and Baguettes? I just don’t get it. Or, does it mean that they grow great grapes there, but can’t make the great wines here? Can’t close the deal. It’s all so confusing and semantical.” Like Mr. Rooney, I was a bit perplexed. However, I think the writer of the bumper sticker probably meant that Sonoma County is a great place to grow grapes, and that is the start of a great wine. It’s like the old saying: You can’t make chicken soup out of chicken manure. All great wines have to start with great grapes. So maybe there is something to the sticker after all. It is definitely true that we have wonderful soil and a wide variety of microclimates which combine to enable the fantastic variety of wines that we produce here. But one of the main reasons, one of the hidden reasons, we grow such delicious grapes here is our outstanding collection of viticulturists. Grape growers, for you newbies out there. Farmers. You know, guys and gals who get their hands dirty and know stuff about grapes and vines. Without whom, I might add, we would still be drinking vino from the “old country.” So I decided to take this opportunity to talk to a couple of grape growers to find out some of their secrets to raising such a wonderful blend of Genus Vitis or vinifera. Since it’s been so cold lately, I thought I would ask about frost protection. I was out early the other morning and I noticed that there were sprinklers on the vineyards of Barnett Vineyards, so I pulled up my truck to the barn and whistled to see if Mitch, the vineyard manager, was around. I found him at his desk in the shop office leaning back with his feet up on the desk fast asleep. Actually, it was he that was asleep, not necessarily his feet. He seemed to be having a dream, because he was muttering something about missing a crucial layup in a high school basketball game. Anyway, I cleared my throat and he woke with a start. “Oh, hey Matt, I thought you were Coach Watkins.” Mitch said, wiping his eyes. “What’s up?” “You must have been up early this morning, I saw the frost protection going on.” “Yeah, it’s been a cold week.” “So, tell me about why you run the sprinklers for frost protection.” “Well, if we keep moving water over the vines, the buds won’t freeze. It’s cold out, but not cold enough to freeze moving water. The water is coming from our well and it’s quite a bit warmer than the air temperature.” “But there aren’t any grapes out yet. Why are you worried about frost?” “The new buds are very susceptible to frost, so we have to keep them from freezing or we could have some serious problems with the growth this season.” “Are there any other ways to protect the new buds from the cold?” “Sure, you can run huge fans that rotate around and keep the air moving, which will also keep the temperature from getting too low. We used to burn oil in smudge pots that we surrounded the vineyard with, but now that is just too expensive and pollutes the air.” “Do you have to protect the entire vineyard?” “No, we mainly worry about the low-lying areas. The upper hills stay much warmer; cold air flows down to the lowest spots.” I thanked Mitch for the good info and left him to try to make that layup in his dream. That was good , I thought to myself, but I need another point of view. Some old school knowledge. So I decided to check in with a small time vineyard owner to see if his methods were different than “the big guys.” Arnold “Bud” Rossinelli has a small lot of old vine Zinfandel up in the hills. Very old school. No irrigation, just dry farming. No cover crop. No peas or barley to disk in. All head trained with an attitude. “So, Bud,” I asked when I saw him walking out to his vineyard after lunch, “you been out doing frost protection?” “You bet. Last four days.” “How do you know if it’s cold enough to get out there?’ “I send my grandson out.” “What does he do?” “Checks the temperature.” I’m looking for a complete sentence by now. “How does he do that,” I asked very optimistically. “Licks the steel pole over yonder.” This sentence accompanied by a nodding action toward a raw steel pole with an assortment of discolorations about four feet from the ground. “If he sticks to it, then we get to work.” “ I see. And when do you know if it warms up?” I already knew the answer. “When he falls off.” Like I said, another point of view…”What method do you use to keep the vines warm?” I asked. “Cover ‘em up.” “With what?” I asked “Whatever we got – bed sheets, blankets, laundry, socks, tarps, hats, umbrellas, magazines, that sort of thing. I also get the missus to get out and start to talking to the vines, she and her ma. That creates plenty of hot air.” He said that with a big grin… |
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