2022 Pinot Noir

2022 Pinot Noir

I’m not sure how many people’s Mom’s taught them everything they know about growing Pinot Noir, but consider us a lucky few.  Yes, one of the things that makes Five Rows unique is the passed down love of working in a vineyard.  Nowhere is that more the case than in our old Pinot Noir block.

It is inspiring to read so many stories these days celebrating the critical role played by women in the development of our industry, and it makes me proud to know that my Mom has been doing her part for over 40 years.  Early on, it didn’t take her long to realize that growing Pinot Noir would present a very different challenge to the hybrids and labruscas that she was accustomed to tending.  Like many other vinifera converts at the time, my parents were forced to re-learn grape growing on the fly, her in the vines and he on the tractor.  Thankfully, I got to observe them both as I grew in step with those first Pinot vines.

My sister and I were raised on the forefront of a changing industry.  Everything that Ontario grape growers and wineries did in the 1980s was new and understandably questioned by the establishment.  It is a much different experience for our kids 40 years later – the industry is established, respected and much larger.  You might say they have it a little easier, but growing Pinot Noir is still as challenging as it ever has been and I can’t wait to pass that on…in a good way!

Although not as severe as seen in other varietals, the usually hardy old Pinot Noir vines were not spared the winterkill damage of 2022.  This meant significantly lower yields and more attention paid to vine balance and nutrient status within the block throughout the vintage.  Excellent summer growing conditions made for few issues in ripening that light crop, which was harvested on September 24th.

Normally, I would choose entire rows to harvest for our production, but the sporadic crop distribution necessitated a different approach.  It was decided to use portions of many rows as opposed to whole rows, and for that reason the 2022 Five Rows Pinot is perhaps the most representative exploration of terroir over the entire Old Block we have made to date.

Tasting notes:

Good colour for Lowrey Vineyard Pinot Noir.  Refreshingly intense, ripe red fruit component (wild strawberry, cherry).  The subtle oak is mainly perceptible on the palate, showing harmonious integration.  An underlying hint of terroir-defining truffle/mushroom supports the bright fruit.  Pleasing tannins that do not overwhelm the palate, quite the opposite, inviting one to envision what the future might hold for this wine, this vineyard.

2024 Sauvignon Blanc

2024 Sauvignon Blanc

“The Infinite Variability of Terroir”

One day, while inspecting the hundreds of new replants in our Sauvignon Blanc vineyards, I was struck by the vast number of variables that are at play behind the creation of any wine.  As I peeked into the grow tubes, one by one, to check on the status of these struggling little sticks in the ground, I couldn’t help but be awed by the evolving and tangled web of life that is a vineyard.

When you really think about all of these variables on a micro level (berry cells, leaf chlorophyll, root growth, soil micronutrients and the intensity of radiation on August 21st at 2pm – just to name a few) it can make your head spin.  It’s a wonder that any two wines ever show any similarity whatsoever!

Enter the winemaker.  They have the tools to mold a wine into a certain style through their choice of barrels, yeast, nutrients and malolactic bacteria.  Alternatively, they may choose to let the anomalies of each vintage shine through by minimal intervention.  This latter approach is my preference, adding even more layers to the seemingly infinite variability of terroir.

The vintage of 2024 may one day be celebrated as one for the ages.  That is much easier to proclaim now, of course, than during the vintage itself.  Contemplating all the things that have to go right for a successful harvest is far more enjoyable after the fact than during the ordeal.  Unlike other standout vintages where the eventual outcome was more obvious early on, 2024 had its share of extreme precipitation events that left our fields flooded in a way we had never experienced before.  The prevailing thought at the time was that the excess precipitation would have a negative effect on fruit quality.  Much like 2023, however, the crop was saved by perfect ripening conditions in August and September.

I’m not sure if birds would be classified as part of the terroir, but they certainly played a part in thinning the Sauvignon Blanc crop this vintage, especially in the northernmost section of the block.  This was yet another anomaly that we had never encountered with this varietal in that specific part of the vineyard.  You may sense a theme here.

The fruit for this wine was harvested from both of our Sauvignon Blanc vineyards on September 11th, with ripening parameters of 20.8 ºBrix, TA 7.35 and pH 3.32.  After pressing, the juice was fermented in a combination of mostly neutral French oak barrels (85%) and tank (15%).  The fermentations were managed to be as slow and cool as possible for maximum aromatic and flavour potential.  Along the way, the wine picked up pronounced citrus and herbaceous notes, subtle tropicality and hints of lemongrass.

The terroir is strong here, both in its familiar hallmarks and vintage specific nuances.

2022 Cabernet Sauvignon

 

2022 Cabernet Sauvignon

I operate under the assumption that everything I do in the vineyard will slightly improve the wine.  There is a belief that I will make better, truer wines by being present in my vineyard every day.  The moment I entertain doubt, I lose confidence and motivation.  Sometimes growing Cabernet Sauvignon in a cool climate can foster those feelings of doubt, as no varietal that we grow is more dependent on the length of the growing season and warm fall conditions.

Perhaps that is why I have mixed feelings about naturally light crop vintages like 2022.  On one hand, a lower yield is just what the doctor ordered for ripeness and tannic maturity in your fruit.  On the other hand, it could be proof that we tend to overcrop our Cabernet Sauvignon in most other seasons, leading to unplanned late season crop adjustments.  Either way, it always comes down to the amount of growing degree days experienced by that crop (heavy or light) in a given season and there is little you can do to influence that!

The 2022 vintage turned out to be a dream season for low-yielding Cabernet Sauvignon in Niagara.  We ended up with some of the ripest Cab we’ve cultivated to date (24.4ºBrix) on one of our earliest harvest days ever (October 16th).  Fruit for this wine was sourced from both of our clones, 169 and 191.  Each block was hand-picked and gently destemmed into its own bin.  The wine was allowed a four-day cold soak before indigenous yeast fermentations started naturally, then were managed with three daily punchdowns.  The wine was dry after five more days with a peak fermentation temperature of 32ºC.

Given the ripeness of the fruit, I remained cognisant of the potential overextraction of tannins throughout the fermentation process.  I made it a habit to taste each bin daily to evaluate the mouthfeel, noting if there was any significant change to the tannic profile.  When all the elements felt balanced, we opted to lightly press both bins in our traditional small basket presses.

Four French oak barrels (25% new oak) housed the wine for two years and what evolved was a truly special wine.  It is expressively aromatic, even in its youth, and shows equal parts depth and approachability on the palate.

There is no doubt about it, I grow Cabernet Sauvignon to make wines like this.

Thinning in the Rain

Lately, I’ve gotten into the habit of singing the song “Here Comes the Sun” to my daughter every morning, in hopes of changing the prevailing weather pattern of 2017.  I make an effort not to complain too much about the excessive rain around her, just to lessen the chance she grows up to be a crotchety grape farmer.  So, instead, we focus on “sunnier” topics and stories from glorious vintages of the past.

She has no idea that you can literally watch the vines grow this year – we must have set some kind of record for photosynthesis by now!  I can’t recall a year where every bud on every shoot is alive and thriving.  On the macro level this is a great thing (healthy vines, good crop level, replenished water table), but when you are fully immersed in this tropical Niagara jungle on a daily basis, you quickly realize the enormity of task we are up against.

The rains of 2017 have been a frightening reminder that there is no “typical” growing season anymore.  There could not be a more stark contrast between two vintages than 2016 and 2017 to this point.  Consequently, our vineyard strategies have had to be dramatically altered to account for the increase in shoot growth.

Unfortunately, it’s not as simple as just aggressively thinning down the vines to their “normal” level, because the few leftover shoots and clusters would grow too vigorously.  Therefore, I’ve taken more of a staggered approach to thinning this year, letting vines gradually acclimate to the increase in water and nutrient uptake.  Keeping more shoots and clusters on the vine for a longer period of time can also be risky, because too much crowding in the canopy might lead to increased disease pressure.  So being out there every day thinning, scouting and gauging shoot growth is essential.

Thankfully, the disease pressure has been minimal thus far…that is until we sustained some hail damage over the past week, presenting a new challenge of split and bruised berries.  Split berries and excessive humidity are the perfect recipe for Botrytis, so we are pulling leaves and opening up the canopy a little earlier than normal to help dry up the hail damage.  For the record, I’m not quite comfortable using the B-word around Frances yet.

This season has proven to be an exercise in patience and adaptation.  I hold out hope, looking at the sunny long range forecast, that my determined morning sing-along is finally paying off!

 

 

Reflections on 2016

It is difficult to sum up an entire growing season in a couple of words, but I’d bet if you asked a bunch of Ontario grape growers and winemakers to describe 2016, the bulk of them would quickly reply, “hot and dry!”

That will be the narrative going forward, but obviously there is much more to explore about this fascinating season.  I learned many things in 2016, most of which the hard way.  There was no precedent in my memory bank for such prolonged dry conditions, especially when the weather forecast seemed to feature a constant 60% chance of precipitation five days from now.  Front after threatening front would approach and break-up at the escarpment, splitting north and south of St. David’s and leaving us basking in sunlight.

I was reticent to use irrigation early in the season and this proved to be a tactical error.  Having completed a Master’s Degree in Viticulture entitled  “Examining the Effects of Deficit Irrigation on Cool Climate Chardonnay”, you’d think I’d know better.  When we finally decided to irrigate our vines, it was inevitable that a chain would break on our traveler cannon, and the town would impose water restrictions…our drought continued.

The first lesson learned is that you are flying blind if you don’t take steps to measure vine and soil water status to gauge potential stress.  It was pointed out to me that this is second nature in BC, but foreign to many Ontario farmers.  We tend to think of a drought as something that pops up every five years or so (2007, 2012, 2016), but perhaps it will prove to be a climate change related trend going forward.

Thankfully, the older vines didn’t seem to mind the stressful conditions and continued to thrive.  Younger vines, those plated in 2009 and later, showed signs of stress even with supplemental irrigation.  Bloom phase is a critical point in the season to ensure the vines have adequate water and nutrition.  The lack of early rain in 2016 meant that any spring nutrition added in the form of fertilizer and manure could not percolate down to the roots at bloom, ultimately leading to poor fruit set.

Another observation from this past year is that some blocks have not fully recovered from the winters of 2013 and 2014.  Replacement of dead and damaged trunks has left these vineyards unbalanced in terms of vine status, nutrient allocation and ultimately vigour within each row.  More evidence is the increase in crown gall virus, which can be caused by cold temperature splitting of trunk tissue.

The effects of the drought may actually have a short term silver lining.  In 2016, winemakers were thrilled to see lower crop levels, smaller berry size, moderate vine stress and little canopy growth after veraison – all of which being favourable conditions for crafting premium wines.  If the aromatic intensity of the 2016 whites is of any indication, we have may have something to be very excited about.

I’m sure 2017 will present its share of surprises and challenges, but I definitely intend to be more proactive when it comes to the water and nutrient status of my vines.

 

Inspiration

I find it very easy to put off writing when faced with a multitude of vineyard jobs and the constant opportunity to chat with friendly visitors.  Interesting topics float in and out of my brain as I squat to carefully tie up the precious suckers offered by winter-ravaged vines of Sauvignon Blanc, but putting wine-stained finger to keyboard seems a chore at the end of a long day.

So why do I feel all charged up tonight?  It’s got to be that vineyard green!  There is something about the vigour exhibited by grapevines growing in June that gets my blood flowing.  Vines that seemed all but dead months ago now brim with green shoots to the point of needing a good thin.  I can barely keep up with the growth, but the vines are ahead of schedule and into bloom a full week earlier than the last couple of years.  Even the deluge of early June rain can’t dampen my enthusiasm!  Anticipation outweighs setback at this stage, as the inevitable diseases have yet to rear their ugly spores (talk to me in a week and I’ll likely be singing a different tune).

There are exceptions – sobering reminders of the harsh winter and a catastrophic worst case scenario that was all too close to becoming reality.  Perhaps that is what makes those rare fruit-bearing vines so inspiring.  Syrah, Pinot Gris and Sauv Blanc will all likely be 50-75% down in crop level, but thankfully the majority of vines are still alive and throwing suckers.  Sourcing fruit from those varieties will be a challenge for all Ontario wineries this vintage.

My current glee could also be traced to a rainy day racking session earlier this week.  I was able to get an intimate look at all 2013 and 2014 reds as I siphoned them out of and then back into their cosy oak homes.  Some of them were a little unhappy to see me so early, but most were WAY more polished than I anticipated (insert huge exhale here).

It reinforces what I’ve been hearing from visitors to our barn this year: each of our wines has their own distinct personality, and those differences make them interesting and enjoyable.  It’s not about vintages being “better” or “worse” than one anther, but rather entirely unique upon comparison.  That is an exciting prospect when you find yourself worrying that future wines won’t stack up to the current crowd pleasers.  One excited taster recently proclaimed he’d never met a Five Rows wine he didn’t enjoy.  The fact that he was my Dad shouldn’t really matter.  Tainted praise is still praise to hungry ears.

 

 

 

 

On Pruning

Most people will never have the opportunity to spend a bitter winter day pruning their way down a row of grapes, so I feel it my duty to inform the masses about this crucial vineyard task.

Every winter, around the beginning of January, my father and I start to get serious about pruning vines in preparation of our next growing season.  There is usually a little tire-kicking before we summon enough motivation to begin in earnest, but eventually there is no more time to dawdle.  I liken it to that feeling of being comfortable on your couch on a cold day, but knowing you have get up and go to the gym at some point.

The last couple of years have been particularly challenging due to the severe low temperatures and deep snow.  The simple act of walking out to the vineyard becomes a production.  It goes without saying that proper attire is a must – warm boots and gloves, multiple layers and keeping the wind at your back are keys to stamina.  The ‘pruners’ themselves must be well-oiled and sharp (this applies to both physical tool and person).

Sometimes when I’m donning my gear, I summon my inner Han Solo and pretend I’m setting out over the snowy landscape of Hoth, charged with the duty of finding Luke Skywalker and returning him to the Rebel base.  This scene from The Empire Strikes Back is as vivid as perhaps any from my childhood, and serves as the catalyst to get me out of the barn and on my way.

As with all vineyard jobs, every vine must be evaluated individually before the cuts can be made.  The goal is to whittle it down to four “perfect” canes with roughly ten buds apiece.  They must be oriented in such a way that two of them can be tied down in opposite directions along the fruiting wire in the spring (the other two are left untied for insurance).  On passing glace it may seem that adjacent vines are very uniform, but this is not the case.  There are many subtle differences that must be accounted for:  cane diameter, bud spacing, wood density, bud viability, trunk health and residual disease.  Leaving the wrong canes can negatively impact the future success of that vine.  An experienced pruner can evaluate these variables and make decision cuts in a matter of seconds, spending little more than a minute cleaning up each vine.  The anticipation of finding those four perfectly situated canes appeals to my love of solving puzzles.

You eventually settle into a pleasing rhythm of cutting and removing unwanted wood and before you know it you are halfway down the row.  Decisions become innate and you are left alone with your thoughts.  Welcome distractions like music or talk radio can make time fly, but I caution that waning concentration can be very dangerous.  The daydreaming pruner can easily whip themselves in the face with an errant cane (painful and embarrassing), deeply cut a finger (most farmers have done this) or become prey to an overly aggressive coyote (perhaps not as common).

Often I use this time to mentally prepare for the winery jobs at hand.  Should I blend a little 2013 with those 2012’s?  Do I have enough tank space to rack and blend all my Pinot Noir barrels at once?  Is it a good idea to cold stabilize my whites while they are on bentonite?  Conveniently, it provides a leisurely way to tackle and think through logistical hurdles.

As the day wears on, it becomes increasingly critical not to let your weak mind slip into thinking about how cold you are becoming, or about the potential implications if all these buds are indeed fried, or if the vine you are pruning might already be dead due to the -23C temperatures sustained last night…

At times like this I usually hop on my trusty Tauntaun and ride back to the Rebel base.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Overwhelming Response

I’m overwhelmed at the response we’ve received to our new wines and the number of keen visitors we’ve entertained over the last couple of weeks!  It is all we can do to write and apply labels fast enough to keep up.

I’ve become accustomed to putting off my vineyard work on weekends in May to stick around the barn and help the girls with tastings.  I must admit that I secretly enjoy this, as it allows me to overhear all the interesting and thoughtful reviews of my wines.  There is always a gut-wrenching fear belying my calm facade that these wines won’t live up to their predecessors.  You would think that after nine vintages of wrenching guts I might have learned to trust my palate by now, but it always takes a few satisfied customers to reassure me.

That is all part of what makes this time of year is so exciting, from the inbox full of pre-orders to the smiling faces of return visitors parading through the barn door.  The fact that people would think enough of our wines to pre-order them on spec, without even trying them first, is the ultimate in trust.  I treasure this trust as much as any award or five star review we’ve ever received.  The “pre-order” is my gold medal.

With that trust comes the pressure not to disappoint.  This challenge drives what I do in the vineyard every summer.  In the back of my mind is the knowledge that this vine I’m currently thinning will produce fruit to make a wine that someone may already have dibs on for next year.  On one hand it’s a very reassuring thought, but it also means there isn’t much room for error!

As the first buds of 2014 start to reveal themselves one precious leaf at a time, I confidently venture out to the vineyard and strive to earn more trust.

 

 

 

Pre-Harvest Jitters

What a curious growing season it has been to this point.  I guess it really shouldn’t be a surpirse given that this year ends in “13”.  Consistently cool and wet for the most part, but strangely no signs of disease pressure to speak of (knock on wood).  Then we are blessed with a few weeks of ideal ripening conditions precisely when we need it at veraison.  All varietals, save Cabernet Franc, are looking to be right on schedule.

The Cab Franc are likely lagging behind due to their prodigious uptake of water.  The spring/summer rains have left our vines brimming with growth – even many lateral shoots are bearing clusters of fruit!  The last couple of months have been spent paring back these layers of green growth in an effort to expose the vulnerable fruit.  The Cab Franc vines put so much energy and resource into this shoot growth that the fruit will take longer to enter and complete the ripening process.  It doesn’t help that our Cab Franc vines are relatively young and full of vim and vigour!

The task of thinning shoots and clusters has been very time consuming this season, but I can finally start to make out the post at the end of this long grape row.  As I complete each row, my Dad follows behind to hang the protective bird netting.  I must say that the sight of these nets brings me the ultimate in satisfaction.  They represent the preservation of  year’s worth of hard work and signify the end of my duties in that block until we harvest.

My mind can now shift to the preparation of tanks, barrels, crushers, presses and the like.  It’s also the time to determine which yeasts and fermentation aids I will employ to best coax out the Terroir in my 2013 wines.  The new supplier catalogues we receive each year put me in mind of the old Sears Christmas Wish Book I always looked so forward to as a child.  My eyes light up as I flip through page after page of new “toys”, each seeming to promise more flavours and aromas than the next.  I find it fascinating to think of the amount of research that has gone into refining the simple process of fermentation.  We all have our “go to” yeasts that we swear by, but I’m usually tempted to try something new every year – even if it’s just in a single tank or barrel.

If I close my eyes I can almost smell those beautiful fermenting tanks already!

Of Buds and Blue Eggs

 

When setting out for a morning of work in the vineyard, I never know what I might encounter.  I’ve witnessed deer bounding gracefully right between our trellis wires and lone coyotes sauntering about, slyly portraying ignorance yet fully aware of my presence.

More often than not I encounter birds.  From majestic Hawks and rare Bluebirds to annoying Starlings – it runs the gamut.  I especially look forward to spring, when new life in the vineyard is not limited emerging buds and dandelions.  This past week, while tying down canes of Pinot Noir (specifically Row #7 in the Old Block),  I was fascinated as I closed in on one particular vine.

A curious place for a nest

Cautiously creeping closer, it became evident that a determined Robin had chosen one of my oldest Pinot vines as the perfect place to raise its family.  I recognized the irony in this nest full of future grape-pecking Robins staring me in the face, but I couldn’t bring myself to relocate the cosy looking abode.  Instead, I tied down the canes and snapped a few quick pictures as mama Robin chirped at me rather aggressively from two rows away.

Five Rows, Four Eggs

Future Adversaries

This is actually a common vineyard occurrence.  The most interesting discoveries are the camouflaged Kildeer nests dotting the ground between grapevines.  Mother Killdeers are seemingly fearless.  As you approach the nest she will frantically charge at you, feigning a broken wing in an effort to seem more vulnerable to the perceived predator.  In the ultimate act of altruism the mother will then attempt to lead you in the opposite direction of her nest, all the while fanning her “broken” wing.  I always get a kick out of this evolutionary trait and try to vacate the area as quickly as possible.  Inevitably, I must approach the nest as work continues in the adjacent row and the whole dance starts again.

My mind flashes to a vision of yours truly, arms flailing and yelling wildly, as Howie approaches one of my dogs on the tractor.  He is blissfully unaware, and they are all too eager to greet him.  Finally, I get his attention and danger is averted.  My inner Kildeer is satisfied.