An Ode to Oak

Wednesday, Feb 15th, 2012

 

I’m generally not an emotional guy.  Why then, am I having such a difficult time parting ways with the first two barrels that ever held my wine?

The time has come to cruelly determine which of our used oak barrels must be sent out to pasture, literally.  I’ve been through wars with these veteran barriques.  They’ve seen good wine, bad wine and everything in between.  Some have been a working fixture in our barn for eight years.  Now you must decide which old soldiers can no longer carry out their job, good luck with that!  This unceremonious send-off just doesn’t seem to befit such a valuable part of our winery.

Good oak is the winemaker’s not-so-secret weapon.  Sure they are expensive (our largest capital expense from year to year) but they are essential.  I’ve come to learn that new oak should never be taken for granted and never be used in overabundance.  Too much new oak can mask and possibly ruin the fine subtleties of an aging wine.  Restraint should always be exercised.

My attachment to each individual barrel is surely due to the small size of our operation.  Over time I become acutely aware of their “personalities” through weekly tasting and topping regimens.  Some are big softies, while others are boldly complex.  Some barrels make the retirement decision easy for me.  No amount of sterilization can rid them of the contaminants they’ve accumulated over the years, so out the door they go.  But what about the barrel who’s only knock is it’s old age and bland neutrality?  That is the dilemma staring me in the face right now.

Back in 2004, under the guidance of Creekside Estate Winery winemakers Rob and Craig, I assembled a two barrel blend of Cabernet Sauvignon sourced from our vineyard.  With a pool of twelve barrels to choose from, we experimented with 50L from here and 25L from there until we all agreed upon a blend that I could confidently open a winery with.  It was decided that the wine should be housed in a couple of beautiful, two year old French oak barrels made by Burgundian cooper Claude Gillet.  The wine would stay cloaked in these barrels until 2006, when we bottled our first Five Rows release – the 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon.

Those same two Gillet barrels proved tremendously versatile with each successive vintage of Five Rows Cab Sauv.  What they lost in intensity each season, they gained in character and elegance.  This past week I racked some 2009 Cab Sauv from the Gillet twins and was pleasantly surprised at the finished product.  I didn’t hold out much hope for the 2009 Cab at this time last year, but an additional 12 months spent soothing in neutral oak really did the trick.  We’ll bottle the 2009 Cab Sauv this spring.

So there they sit after ten long years of service, empty and willing…but sadly there is no wine to fill them.  Now the decision is upon me.  No more stalling filibusters, it’s time to take these two out behind the barn and “pop the bung” for good.  I swear I’d have an easier time putting down Old Yeller.  At least he had rabies.

One day soon I’ll crack a bottle of 2004 Cab Sauv in their honour.  Few times will I enjoy a bottle more.

barrel graveyard

2009 Cabernet Sauvignon Icewine Release

Sunday, Nov 13th, 2011

 

As winter draws near, it’s fitting that our 2009 Cabernet Sauvignon Icewine is finally ready for release.  The bottles are signed, the labels have been folded and the wine is drinking beautifully!

Excitingly, we were just informed that this wine has received a silver medal in the Icewine category at the 2011 Canadian Wine Awards.  Full results will be made public in the December issue of Wine Access.  I must admit that this was not an easy wine to make (it drew my ire on many occasions) and to be recognized in this manner is especially gratifying.

I remember the day we harvested this fruit very fondly.  After an evening of perfect freezing conditions (-12 degrees Celsius) it was decided that we would hand pick five rows of specially selected Clone 169 Cabernet Sauvignon.  A beautiful day unfolded before us, with a light snow gently filtering the weak rays of winter sun.  Having spent the last three months fending off voracious flocks of starlings, the relief of harvesting was palpable that morning, and probably helped us brave the cold.

I quickly learned that everything involved in Icewine production is slow and difficult.  Pressing was a very long and drawn out process, but we were thankful for each singular drop of juice that slowly dangled and fell from the press spout.  The fermentation was also a marathon, as yeast don’t normally take kindly to such extreme conditions.  Proper nutrition and attention to fermentation dynamics were of the utmost importance.  Slowly but surely the sugar became alcohol and the amazing Icewine flavours began to reveal themselves.  The goal was to produce an Icewine that would not be perceived as being “too sweet” and I think we achieved that.

The challenge continued when it came to filtering and bottling this lucious, thick liquid.  In fact, it required as many pads to filter this measly 270L as I used for the rest of my entire 2009 vintage!  Bottling into narrow 200ml glass was a treat as well.  First the corks wouldn’t fit properly, then the bottles started tipping over on the filling line.  Keep in mind that any spillage of icewine is magnified many times simply due to it’s scarce supply.

Perhaps the easiest and most enjoyable part of this wine was the label design.  It’s a fun process and I’m always impressed with the original concepts that are born on the magic blackboard at Insite Design.  They always seem to come up with ways to make my wines feel special.  For a sneak peek at the package concept of this wine click here.

Many times over the course of this Icewine experiment I promised myself that under no circumstances would I ever do this again.  Based on the tremendous response to this wine, however,  I may now have to eat crow and reconsider.

Sometimes crow tastes good.

 

2011 Vintage Update

Sunday, Sep 11th, 2011

Call me Chicken Little.

At the first sign of rotten berries and fruit flies in our Pinot Noir I run to my father and proclaim, “the sky is falling”.  I rattle off all the jobs that need to be done IMMEDIATELY: gotta get the bins ready for harvest, gotta cut the rot out, gotta check the sugar and acid levels, gotta thin out green bunches, gotta take the nets down…

He takes in all the “gotta’s” and I manage to catch my breath while swatting away invisible fruit flies.   My anxiety stems from sheer amount of time I’ve put into that damn vineyard, and coming to grips with the concept that no amount of time and care can trump mother nature.  Water is always the great equalizer.   These overly tight Pinot clusters just can’t resist taking in excess water.  They are starting to rot from the inside out, as mid-cluster berries begin to split.  This condition is worse than a simple bird peck or hail strike which often times dries up on the cluster exterior.  The only cure for this malady is the strategic removal of rotten berries, not a fun prospect.

Howie takes it all in stride.  The calm look on his face reminds me that we go through this same excruciating Pinot dance every year.  He knows that we will cut the rot out and the resulting fruit will ripen-up enough to make good wine.  If not, then at least we can rest assured that we gave it our best shot.  Why can’t I be this wise and even-keeled?  I guess that is where we differ.

He goes on to recall the words of a sage vineyard manager we both know who under similar circumstances proclaimed, “They are just grapes and we’re just making booze.”  I shudder and remind him that this fellow no longer manages vineyards.

Individual Vine Viticulture

Tuesday, Aug 30th, 2011

 

What is it that makes our wines unique?

I’ve been asked to answer this question quite a few times over the last couple of weeks, so maybe some further explanation is necessary.  I always start by stressing that the intricacies of our wines originate from thorough hand labour in the vineyard.  But I now realize that this is a vague reason to many people.  So I racked my brain today, while thinning Sauvignon Blanc, for a moniker to best describe the practice I employ.  I settled on “Individual Vine Viticulture”.

Through many hours spent doing the same jobs to the same vines, I’ve come to realize that every vine is subtly different and needs to be treated as such.   It really becomes obvious as you prune, tie down, shoot thin, shoot position, remove leaves and cluster thin, that each vine has its own “personality”.  I’ve written about the broad definition of terroir in the past, and it’s effects are certainly applicable here.

These individual vine differences are especially observable in the Niagara region due to extreme soil variability and a consistently high incidence of winter injury.  The re-planting of winter-killed vines leads to rows filled with multiply-aged vines, thus adding yet another level of variability that must be accounted for by the grower.  I challenge anyone to find a vineyard in our region that has not been touched with winter injury over the years.

As the size of a vineyard increases it becomes next to impossible to treat each vine as an individual.   That is why crew-based and mechanized labour (for leaf removal and pruning in particular) are on the rise in most vineyards.  Jobs are done quickly, with a broad stroke and questionable accuracy.  I strive to trend in the opposite direction, precise and methodical, where  every vine gets my full attention.  I can now better explain the second most asked question in the last two weeks:  Why don’t you just expand your operation and make more wine?

It is my goal to continue to craft wines whilst practicing Individual Vine Viticulture on the rows I choose to vinify.  Right now, I spend nearly every day from March to November obsessively tweaking my vines in one way or another. Scheduling days for actual “winemaking” jobs is always problematic but ultimately doable at our current production size of 500 cases.  With wine quality at stake, Five Rows has no plans for expansion in the foreseeable future.

Go small or go home!

The Longest Row

Monday, Jul 04th, 2011

Where do the days go?

Every year, right around this time, I shift from basking in the joys of summer to flat out panic.  Days are spent trying to motor through jobs in the vineyard, but soon the stark reality sinks in.  There just aren’t enough days left before harvest to complete the monster list of tasks.

I find myself in a row of Pinot Gris on this hot Sunday, trying to rationalize how I seem to get into this mess every year, yet somehow manage to get most of the work done.  This brings no comfort.  The vines just keep growing (even on weekends).  There is minor satisfaction in each row of thinning and shoot positioning that I get through, but no time to really enjoy it.  I seem to remember more enjoyment in years past.  Perhaps this is tied to the fact we now have a winery occupying a large portion of our time.  As the sun beats down and I feel the sting of sweat in my eye, I begin to second guess why we decided to start a winery in the first place.  Growing grapes alone was sooo much easier.  No retail hours, no Interac, no problem!

Just as my self-pity hits a fevered pitch, and I’m convinced that I’ll never finish thinning this unbelievably long row of Pinot Gris,  I sense something beside me that causes me to jump with fear (only those who have been surprised out in a vineyard will truly understand my terror).  I went from mellowly singing along with John Denver to actually shrieking like a female punk vocalist.  Quickly wheeling around I found myself face to face with….what is that?….a coyote wearing sun glasses?  Alas no, it was only my Dad coming to aid his slightly heat-stroked son.  Without fail, the shock of abruptly meeting someone or something amid the tranquil cocoon of music and vines always makes me jump.

Thankfully, this was just the spark I needed.  Together we finished that marathon row and then hiked back to the barn for lunch.  Upon arrival, Wilma informed us that we had just missed out on a “crazy Shiraz flurry” and delighted to tell us how much she enjoyed tasting wines with the exuberant group.  The excitment on her face brought a smile to mine.

The reward of opening a winery was never more clear.  How selfish of me to think of it as a burden, even on this grueling day.  Five Rows started as a hopeful brand but has evolved into our lifestyle.  For this brief moment in time, we are able to achieve success together as a family.  Despite our foibles, the jobs eventually get done and wine seems to magically disappear out the door.  I’m increasingly aware that our current arrangement is unique, and not one that can last forever.  Therein lies both the paradox and the beauty of Five Rows.

Let’s all enjoy this “Shiraz flurry” while we can.

2008 Five Rows Shiraz Vinification Notes

Friday, Jun 03rd, 2011

2008 Five Rows Shiraz:

The tale of Lowrey Shiraz began many years ago with a firm handshake.  Our relationship as a grower for Creekside Estate Winery started in the late 90’s and continues to this day.  Shiraz is a staple for Creekside, grown and vinified to perfection year after year.  Given this success, we naively agreed to plant some of these vines soon after our partnership began.  Little did we know just how sensitive and vigorous Shiraz could be!

This combination of winter sensitivity and summertime vigor is a challenging prospect for the grape grower.  Early in their lives, these vines saw some pretty severe winters that almost led to their extinction in our vineyard.  Massive re-plantings and constant re-trunking were needed to restore their numbers.  Our hard work and patience was rewarded with some stellar vintages in the 2000s, ultimately inspiring me to take a crack at making my own Shiraz in 2008 (and yes, it will always be “Shiraz” not “Syrah” to us because we planted it for an Aussie!).

The fruit for this wine was harvested on October 23 following some pretty dodgy conditions in the summer of 2008.  We initially thinned the vines down to two bunches per shoot, but had to remove additional clusters in the fall, as it became clear that ripening would be a challenge.  We hand-harvested about one tonne of fruit from each of our Shiraz clones (7 & 100), then sorted before de-stemming into fermentation bins.

A long cold soak was employed to help with colour extraction and tannic development.  I chose to ferment the slightly riper Clone 7 fruit with RX60 yeast, but opted for F15 with the Clone 100 bin.  Ferments were carried out at an average pace, with four daily punch-downs.

One new Taransaud barrel, two older French and a lone American oak barrel were used for the maturation process of this wine.  Malolactic fermentation was carried out in barrel.  After 24 months in oak, the final blend was assembled and allowed to mingle for about 8 more months.  This exciting wine was bottled April 6th, 2011.

Aromas:  blackberry, black currant, lavender, smoked game

Flavours:  dark chocolate, coffee bean, raspberry

Production:  105 cases

Technical data:  13.0% alcohol,  pH 3.30,  TA 8.55

Price:  $50.00/bottle

Don’t Look Now…

Friday, May 27th, 2011

 

Don’t look now, but we have some serious viticultural growth going on out there!  Despite the cool and damp conditions, shoots are expanding at a rapid pace.  It’s as if the vines couldn’t hold it in any longer and just exploded with life.

As a precaution for potential winter injury, we always leave an extra “insurance” cane on each vine that is not tied down with the others.  Initial observations tell me that we can safely go through and remove these extra canes, as most primary buds are appear to be viable.  This job will keep my dad and I busy for a couple of weeks – but don’t hesitate to pull me out of the vineyard for a quick tasting should you decide to pop in for a visit!

Is it Spring yet?

Monday, May 02nd, 2011

 

It’s depressing to look back at my April 24th post from last year and read just how promising things were looking in the vineyard.  In fact, the guy who wrote that passage deserves a good slap in the face for exuberantly rubbing our noses in it.  Aren’t you lucky!  Two weeks ahead of schedule you say?  Well GOOOOOD FOR YOU!

(I apologize for the seething sarcasm, my attitude has not been exemplary ever since a large tree fell onto my car the other day)

Rain, cold and wind are the reality this year.  I don’t feel like the buds are too far behind schedule just yet, but we definitely won’t be afforded the 10-14 day head start we saw in 2010.  The only advantage of this slight delay might be reducing the window for frost damage over the next few weeks.  I’m grasping at straws here.

On the bright side, I’ve actually had my jacket off while tying grapes the last couple of days.  What a feeling of liberation!  The symbolic removal of one’s jacket and subsequent hanging of it over the top wire is one of my favourite rites of Spring.  I almost went “skins” the other day just to stick it to mother nature, but  then I realized I might frighten my Aunt Lonna who was out for a stroll with her dogs.  The shirt stayed on.

On rainy days I’ve begun the massive task of waxing and labeling our new wines.  This job has been expedited by the fact we are nearly sold out of 2009 Pinot Gris and Sauvignon Blanc.  Look for a release announcement concerning the 2010 whites and 2008 reds sometime in June.   If it keeps raining I should have enough bottles labeled by then!

Validation

Saturday, Mar 05th, 2011

March 4th, 2011 is a day that will forever live in Five Rows lore.  It is the day our roadside sign was stolen.  We put it out in the morning and it was gone at the end of the day.  That hand-painted little red sign has probably helped sell more wines than I have.  I hate to see it go.

But this day, the day my sister Catherine turned 30,  had an interesting and unforseen twist in store.  Later on that evening at the Cuvee 2011 Gala, an annual competition celebrating the best in Ontario wines, our name was called in two categories: 2nd place for Best Sauvignon Blanc and 1st place for Best Pinot Gris.   We were surprised and thrilled to be recognized at such a prestigious event.  As longtime Niagara grape growers, Cuvee has always held a special place in our heart.  In past years when our friends at Creekside won awards for wines featuring our grapes, it always felt neat to know we played a small role.  To win this year with wines that I crafted from our own fruit is a completely different feeling that I’m frankly having a hard time getting my head around.

As a rookie winemaker, I’m always nervous having my wines subjectively judged by others.  I make wines that appeal to my palate, but worry they may not always appeal to yours.  The fact that Cuvee winners are judged by my winemaking peers gives me an uplifting feeling of validation and acceptance.  So many days as a winemaker are spent banging your head off a barrel repeatedly in frustration, that its nice to have a night where your head can swell for an altogether different reason.  Don’t worry, my pruning tuque still fit this morning (thankfully it stretches).  In all seriousness, I don’t see this award as a pat on the back, but as more of a kick in the ass to keep working hard and striving to get better.

In the days leading up to the Gala I read a couple of reviews from Michael Pinkus and John Szabo that gave me an inkling our wines might have shown well.  Both writers felt our 2009 Sauvignon Blanc merited inclusion in their personal Top 5 lists from a pre-Cuvee media tasting.  These reviews meant a lot to me, but I still didn’t hold out much hope of bringing home any hardware in a room filled with award-winning juggernauts.

Surprise, surprise.

PS: The irony of losing a sign on the day you win some big wine awards is that people still manage to find you the next day.

2009 Riesling “Jean’s Block”

Saturday, Jan 22nd, 2011

We often discuss a vineyard year in terms of the wonderful wines that result.  I’ve certainly heard many superlatives thrown around in describing just that from Niagara’s 2007 Vintage.  For a change, I’d like to give a different account of  2007, one of extreme vineyard challenges and of personal highs and lows.  This is the story of Jean’s Block.

I was blessed on February 24th of 2007 to marry my soulmate.  Our honeymoon would have to wait, however, as my hard working new spouse still had some schooling to take care of.  Having just moved back from the easy-goin’ east coast, I was about to embark on my first summer at the helm of our yet to be named winery.  There wasn’t really any wine yet, just nerves and self-doubt.  Were we making the right decision?  Am I really a winemaker?  There was only one way to find out.

My mother-in-law, Jean Tkaczyk, was always a fan of Riesling.  She’d made it clear to me over the years at many lively family dinners that I’d better make her a Riesling one day!  I’d always promise her that I would, but there was that small hurdle of not having any Riesling grapes in our vineyard.  It was never a variety that our winery clients had desired, so it had never been planted.  I fondly remember a trip that Jean, Tanya and I made to Vineland Estates one summer to taste their renowned Rieslings.  I quickly became a convert.  On that day I was convinced that our new winery needed this variety in its portfolio.

My parents and I decided to plant 14 rows of Clone 49 Riesling on the easternmost part of our farm adjacent to Four Mile Creek.  It is a well-drained block, with good airflow and a mixed soil composition of sand and clay-loam.  I was well aware that the ultimate challenge with Riesling is keeping the rot at bay, and these parameters would surely help in our efforts.  Clone 49 originated in Alsace and is widely considered to be better suited for Niagara-on-the-Lake and St.Davids Bench terroir.  It’s known for producing wines featuring floral and tropical fruit notes.

My father spent the spring of ’07 doggedly preparing his field for the coming vines.  It was an exciting time.  We were off to a hot, dry start to the growing season with all varieties well ahead of schedule.  One problem: where were the April showers?  They never came.  For that reason I’ll always remember 2007 as a challenging drought year more than anything else.  We actually had to purchase irrigation equipment!  This was unimaginable on a farm that had been bathed with adequate rainfall for five generations.  There had been dry years in the past but nothing like this.  Maddeningly, it would rain in Queenston and Virgil, but not in St. Davids.  It was a bleak prognosis for our soon to be planted Riesling.  Young vines need lots of water, and there simply wasn’t enough available in the soil.  As the time to plant drew near,  however, this was the furthest thing from our minds.

Heartbreak.  We lost Jean to cancer that summer.  I’ll never be able to understand such things.  She will always be remembered with love and her zest for life is still resonant in her children.  Her Riesling vines were planted in sorrow.

When I work in Jean’s Block today, three years later, I’m struck by it’s beauty.  Not only did it survive the drought of 2007, it thrived.  It is without a doubt the prettiest spot on our farm.  I’m reminded of Jean every time I look up to see a majestic hawk or encounter a curious cardinal sitting on the top wire.  She loved nature and took every opportunity to get her hands dirty in the garden.  I’ll never take these earthly pleasures for granted again.  My worries magically disappear in Jean’s Block.

The first crack at making wine from this vineyard came in 2009.  We harvested about 500kg of fruit on October 25th.  The cool ferment was carried out solely in stainless steel with W15 yeast.  The wine was left slightly off-dry (14 g/L), but has plenty of acidity to balance the sweetness.  We bottled 36 cases on August 30th, 2010.

Bottles #2 through 437 are now available to you.  Bottle #1 was put away for someone special.  I hope she likes it.