A Harvest Tale - Part 1
Late ripening, long hang times, perfect weather—will 2023 become a vintage for the ages?
Come quickly! I am tasting stars! — Dom Perignon
Let’s begin at the end
Sorry to all that I haven’t written in this newsletter for 77 days, but there’s a good reason for that. In fact, there are several good reasons, beginning with the sheer breadth and quality of this remarkable harvest season and the mental and physical energy it took to navigate such an unexpected enological time warp.
But to tell this tale I’ll have to break it into parts; so much transpired. And I’d like to begin on the last day, which was just one before yesterday. On that evening we held our annual end of the season harvest party for Magnolia Winery (where I make my wine) in the barn at Will Bucklin’s Old Hill Ranch—almost a month later than we held it last year.
It was a fairly well-attended, well-behaved kind of event with wine contributions from everyone, a post-modern taco bar, incredible wood-fired pizzas, a salty and savory selection of charcuterie, and yep, fresh shucked oysters. A celebration for sure, but still, the mood seemed a little reserved. Or perhaps exhausted is a better word. I’m guessing everyone was pretty much just toast by that point, seeing how we’d all been amped up about grape pickin’ and winemakin’ for well over two months.
I’m not even technically finished with the season yet as I’m still nursing along a Grenache/Syrah fermentation of lovely pink juice from 600 pounds of grapes that simply wouldn’t ripen past 20° Brix. But the bulk of my work is over for now—11 different lots of wine from nearly 12 tons of grapes, currently resting in 30 French oak barrels and several different steel tanks. I made two different varietals of Zinfandel, a Cabernet Sauvignon varietal, two different Syrahs, a Cab Franc, a Petite Sirah, a Sangiovese, a Malbec and two different Rosés.
The crazy thing about this harvest season is how it defied every past season in which I’ve been involved. I was fully prepared to start harvesting in late August or early September, and hoped to have everything in before the inevitable onset of devastating heat domes, atmospheric rivers and wildfires. But none of that happened, including any grapes ripening enough to even harvest in September!
There were signs in the spring, from as early as the onset of bud break, then bloom, then veraison that it might be a late season and Deb and I started wondering if we could possibly fit in a quick trip to Italy if we made sure to be back by mid-September. Our earliest harvest the year before had been September 8th, so, hey, with all signs pointing to an extended season, what if we got back home by the 16th? That should work, right? Fellow winemakers I consulted just shook their heads and muttered, “Now, be careful.”
But we went ahead and started planning for a two-week, slam-bam-see-everything-you-possibly-can kind of trip. Or, I should say Deb started planning. I stayed at arm’s length, thinking that Bacchus, the Roman god of wine, might question my commitment and jack the deal. By mid-summer Deb was putting down deposits and committing to planes, trains and automobiles. As the season continued to extend itself any real concern that we wouldn't be back home in time disappeared. We were going to Italy—to see the sights, eat the food, and most importantly, drink the wine!
But first… a wedding!
The idea for possibly going to Italy first arose when we RSVP’d a big YES to an invitation we received from my son Penn, and his fiancé Lia. Actually, they were already married, but only officially, and only on the West Coast. They’d snuck off way back in April to an immediate-family-only event at the Justice of the Peace office in San Francisco’s iconic City Hall. This was followed by a two-day bacchanal of feasting and wine tasting in Napa, which pretty much sealed the deal—at least for us in-laws.
But now they wanted to throw a wedding for their friends and more expanded family members, especially those living in the eastern half of the country. The venue was Lia’s uncle’s spectacular mountain property in western Pennsylvania. The nearest airport was Pittsburgh, which just happened to have a non-stop to London on the day after the wedding. From there we could fly to Venice… Whoa, this could happen!
Penn and Lia were cool as cucumbers, having already been through their wedding once. I, on the other hand, was a wreck. Notwithstanding the normal emotion a father feels for his children on their wedding days, I had also promised the newlywedsX2 that I would supply all the wine for the celebration as a wedding gift. Some might say that was quite munificent of me, but I think the generosity was all Penn’s and Lia’s. After all, who would risk the success of their wedding dinner to an unproven winemaking newbie’s first commercial effort?
Immediately, and for the many months that preceded the event, I anguished over the possible outcomes of my thinly veiled largesse. And none of them were pretty. The delivery truck would break down someplace with 100-degree+ weather and the wine would “cook,” the cases would be handled roughly and bottles would be broken, or the wine would be shaken for over 3,000 miles and would chemically “come apart.” And the big one—what if the wine did survive the rigors of cross country travel, was handled carefully, was given enough time to recover, was properly opened and allowed to breathe, and was served professionally. What if all that happened and then… nobody liked it? It was still a very young wine after all, and maybe I was pushing it thinking it would be ready after 18 months in the barrel but only seven months in the bottle. I mean, remember our Garagiste debacle? Would all that bottle shock be resolved?
But I needn’t have worried. Everyone in the long line of folks needed to bring six cases of wine from Sonoma, CA to Pittsburg, PA, and prepare it properly for serving, did their jobs perfectly. The Greek gods, Aphrodite and Dionysus, surely looked down on the wedding party and saw that it was good, bestowing their gifts of love and beauty, wine and pleasure. Looking simply radiant, Penn and Lia sealed the deal… again. And the wine woke up and drank well.
It drank so well, in fact, that several guests at the wedding approached me to ask how they might procure more. At the time the wine had not yet been released commercially, so all I could do was promise I'd be in touch when it became available.
Well, that day finally came! Just last week we officially released the three wines poured at the nuptials, and I delivered the first 50 cases purchased to advance-buyers all across the country. I also made them all available to Penn's and Lia's wedding guests at a significantly reduced price in time for Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. And dear reader, in return for your loyal readership, I’m making the same offer to you today.
These three super-premium, handcrafted wines include a bold, luscious red blend called Requisite Red, a magical Sonoma Chardonnay vinted in a blend of Burgundian and California styles, and a special Eclipse Malbec I made—just for fun!— to commemorate and celebrate the upcoming total solar eclipse on April 8, 2024.
To make a purchase please go to tinyvineyards.com where you'll find specially-discounted prices, and FREE SHIPPING on cases and half-cases. Set up an account and make your selection, then at checkout apply the coupon code IKNOWJOE to receive an additional 15% off your entire order.
My suggestion is to order a mixed case or mixed half-case for the best value, and so you have enough of a selection for holiday meals and the upcoming eclipse celebration. Please place your order by Monday, November 13 if you want your wine in time for Thanksgiving. If that’s too rushed you have plenty of time to order for the Christmas, Hanukkah, and Kwanzaa celebrations.
With many thanks and much gratitude!
Joe
Coming next…
We get to Italy.