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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Treadwell Double Bill

Do you have any plans for the evenings of January 10th or February 7th?  I’m hoping that nothing immediately pops to mind and you have the chance to join us at our annual Treadwell Winemaker’s Dinner.  These nights have been such a blast over the years that we’ve decided to tack on an encore gig in 2015.  Truthfully, the demand for tickets last year caught us a little off guard and we didn’t want to leave anybody out.

The dinners will feature some tantalizing Treadwell dishes paired with our 2011 reds and 2013 whites.  I will have to brush up on my knowledge of these wines, as they’ve not been present in our barn for quite a while.  I could certainly wax poetic about the freshly fermented 2014 Cab Sauv, but you probably wouldn’t want to drink that one right now.  Perhaps I will just wait until the night of the first dinner and we can discover how the wines have evolved together.  It’s always more fun to tell old farm stories than bore you with technical wine jargon anyway.

Please visit the Treadwell website for details or call James at 905-934-9797 to book your seat.  We hope to see you there!

The End is Near

So it all comes down to this.  November is upon us and all grapes are off, save the few robust rows Cabernet Sauvignon we’ve chosen to hang until the bitter end.

They desperately cling to their yellowing leaves as the last few rays of fall sunshine hopefully find enough green chlorophyll pigments to move the ripeness needle just a bit further in our favour.  They are likely ripe enough to pick, but they are also clean enough to hang until all the foliage has been exhausted.  Every tick of extra sugar and reduction in total acidity is a welcome bonus at this stage.

It is the exact scene I anticipated earlier in the Spring as all varietals got off to a sluggish start.  We knew we would be pushing the limits to make quality wine – we had no other choice.  The thought of hand-harvesting in the bitter, damp cold of November is intimidating, but when you are so close to the end of a long season, motivation seems easier to summon and these days can actually prove to be glorious!

The most harrowing part of this waiting game is the relentless nature of the birds.  They are wiser and more brazen by this time in the season, blatantly ignoring bird-bangers and finding creative ways to circumvent our seemingly impenetrable nets.  The only true deterrent is a crazed farmer willing to spend the entire day riding around in his vehicle of choice, unleashing whatever unholy racket he can muster.  They will undoubtedly have nightmares about what these frustrating flocks are doing to their grapes, it is what drives them to be up at the crack of dawn to do it all over again.

A Summer To Treasure

If I’m guilty of anything during the busy build-up to harvest, it’s failing to take the time to appreciate the wonderful summer we’ve just had welcoming so many visitors to our barn.  I tend to spend these days with blinders on, dutifully focused on protecting my delicate grapes from birds, fruit flies, rot and botrytis.  A little rosy reflection always helps keep my chin up.

I never would have fathomed that a barn jam-packed with 750 cases of wine could be reduced to what I see today, a mere four months from the initial release in May.  Every one of our visitors has contributed to this case reduction – one bottle, one case at a time.  I was touched this year by the number of fellow winemakers and industry personnel who took time out of their busy schedules to stop by and purchase our wine.  This is a favour I vow to repay very soon!

It is through the tireless hosting efforts of Wilma, Tracy and Katie that we’ve somehow been able to sell nearly every hand-numbered, hand-labeled bottle of Five Rows wine that was bottled and waxed this Spring.   Selling out of wines is always a sad time despite what you might think.  A common refrain we hear is that this is a “good” problem, but I would argue that there is no such thing as a “good” problem.  Having no wine to offer those who’ve traveled far and wide to locate our barn, only to discover we are sold out of their treasured new find is excruciating for visitor and host alike.

This situation always provokes a sinking feeling, as it was never my intention to make a wine that became more “sought after” than actually bought and enjoyed.  The goal every year is to make memorable wines, but not for the wrong reason.  Do we need to produce more Sauv Blanc?  Would that make more people happy?  Perhaps, but maybe not…

The logistics of producing more wine the way we currently go about it (i.e. one guy doing all the tractor work and one guy doing all the winemaking)  is not conducive to a dramatic increase in volume.  Moreover, I’m an intense creature of habit (and by habit I mean stubborn and superstitious), so making a change to a formula that works is not something I’m comfortable with.  Change is my kryptonite.

As I’ve written in the past, it is the reliable patronage and warm compliments from our friends and supporters that drive my passion for making wine.  For these people we will gladly endeavor to keep the Five Rows experience a familiar one.

I’m happy to report that we still do have a limited quantity of 2011 Pinot Noir available, so please join us for a chat and taste over the exciting months of harvest.   Don’t let the bird bangers scare you away!

Rainy Day Winemaker

 

It occurs to me, as I hit a few golf balls into my Cabernet Sauvignon early on this Sunday morning, that we’ve evolved into a rather unconventional winery.  I don’t know what triggered this random thought – perhaps the vision of a Winemaker more intent on grooving a sand wedge than racking barrels…warped priorities indeed.

Admittedly, I’ve morphed into a “rainy day” Winemaker of sorts, as there are just too many jobs to do in the vineyard when the sun is shining and field conditions are ideal.  It is on those rainy days when I employ some techniques that most would consider uncommon (certainly not smart) oenological practice.

I’ve learned the hard way that gravity-siphoning Syrah, on a tipsy ladder into two barrels simultaneously, will most assuredly lead to a violent Syrah volcano that is not discriminate about where it splatters.  This is especially problematic when your winery space is also a retail store lined with finished packages.  Those “specially stained”, collector’s edition bottles are now reserved exclusively for family and friends.

The eccentricities do not end there.  I’m not sure how many Winemakers must arrange daily tasks around their mother’s laundry schedule, but I’m willing to bet there are only a few of us.  You see, water pressure is of the utmost importance in cleaning both tartrate-laden oak barrels and Wilma’s linens.  Despite these limitations, the wines get made and our whites are still bright.

Those visiting our barn on weekdays can attest that it doubles as a very large dog house.  A stickler to routine, my days are planned around letting my dogs out at a quiet time when they won’t bother our guests.  I treasure these few moments of leisure and serenity…

That is until my one-eyed King Charles Cavalier x Chihuahua, named Bella, becomes seemingly possessed by a Tasmanian Devil.  It usually begins with her running really fast in large circles (one-eyed dogs tend to do this) eventually setting out on a wild foray into the vineyard despite my attempts at verbal restraint.  Onlookers sit back and enjoy the spectacle, often marveling, “Look at her go!”  And go she does.  I’d like to say that I play it cool and never get sucked into chasing her…but that would be a lie.  Picture Forrest Gump chasing a weasel.

A more fitting winery mascot would be hard to find.

Bella

 

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.

 

 

 

The First Official Jacket Hanging of 2014

 

It’s official. March 10, 2014 marked the first outdoor workday of the year that I was compelled to take off my jacket and hang it over an endpost in a symbolic act of optimism.  I don’t know that I’ve ever enjoyed a day of pruning (and fetching) this much.  I guess it takes a long, cold winter to make a 7 degree March afternoon feel so heavenly.

Lucy will miss the snow.

 

 

Fighting The Winter Blahs

 

It’s hard to know just how many buds and trunks have succumbed to one the harshest winters of their lifetime.   Although I prefer not to entertain these thoughts – they can’t be ignored.

Pruning decisions are based on how many buds are estimated to be alive on a given vine.  The only way to really calculate this number is to take a cane sample, cut open the primary buds and count how many still appear viable.  This gives us a rough percentage that we can take into account when fashioning the vine for next season.

The tricky part is that each variety has a different sensitivity to extreme cold.  On our farm the most sensitive varietals happen to be two of our more popular wines: Sauvignon Blanc and Syrah.  For this reason I get a little panicky at the prospect of little or no crop in these vineyards!

Preliminary counts don’t look great.  We’ve experienced lows of -21C and most all varietals show some sign of bud mortality.  Hearty varietals like Cab Sauv are in the 60-70% alive range, while the Sauv Blanc and Syrah are more in the 30-40% range…and it’s only the beginning of February.

Unfortunately, bud viability is not the only hurdle.  The vascular tissue in the trunk of the vine is also susceptible to damage in these conditions.  If the trunk is dead – the amount of viable buds obviously becomes a moot point.  Cruelly, trunk death is usually not noticeable until the buds emerge like gangbusters only to slowly whither and die along with your false hopes.

The positive I’ve been able to take away from this winter is a greater appreciation for the wines I currently have in barrel and tank.  Previous mild winters have spoiled me into taking a “full barn” for granted.  Growing sensitive Vinifera grapes in Niagara should never be considered a sure bet.  It will take patience and hard work, but we will recover from this winter like we did in 2004-2005.

A Snow Day to Reflect

As massive black clouds of starlings swirl ominously overhead, contrasting against the pure white snow, I retire to my cosy barn to reflect on the year 2013.  I fear these flocks no more because the barrels and tanks are full, finally put to bed after what seemed like an oddly long growing season.  The apparent quality of these young wines fills me with hope.

I won’t lie – there were certainly moments of doubt, well chronicled (if not over-dramatized) in previous entires of this blog.  It became increasingly frustrating as we waited and waited for the fields to dry out and for eventual flavour concentration in our late-ripening varietals (Riesling, Cab Sauv and Syrah). Thankfully, frustration can sometimes yield immense satisfaction.  This was reflected in the purple toothed grin I saw on my Dad’s face while tasting the freshly squeezed Cabernet Sauvignon directly from the press tray,  “You could bottle this and drink it right now!”, he exclaimed.  Easy now Pops.

Winter allows for the completion of some jobs that I treasure most as a Winemaker.  A recent day spent racking the 2013 whites filled the barn with the most splendid aromas – I was in Sauv Blanc heaven!  Equally excitng were the blending trials featuring the soon to be bottled 2011 reds.  As early blends begin to take shape, I’m becoming more convinced that the 2011 vintage has a chance to be one our strongest across the board.  It rivals 2010 in aromatic intensity and is perhaps more approachable even at this early stage.  Easy now Son.

As we enter the winter months and start to sharpen up the pruners, we’ve decided to close the barn for a couple of months to catch our breath.  This will allow me plenty of time to get the new wines ready to bottle in the spring.  I wish to thank all who have visited over the past year and contributed to our most successful summer to date.  It’s hard to believe our barn has been open for five years now and I look forward to more great visits and more new faces enjoying Five Rows wines in the year to come.

A couple of traditional events that we are planning for the winter are a Winemaker’s Dinner at Treadwell’s and Cuvée 2014.  Details for these events will follow in future posts.  Happy Holidays to all!