Winemaker Shocks World with Revelation: Microclimate Change is Global Warming for Gnomes

During TasteCamp, we got to spend time in 4 different vineyards.  We started Saturday with Doug Fabbioli in his vineyard at Fabbioli Cellars, moved to Tarara Winery where Jordan took us to the Nevaeh Vineyard, spent Saturday afternoon with Ben Renshaw, owner/winemaker at 8 Chains North, at Tranquility Vineyard, and ended the VA wine filled weekend with Jim Law at Linden Vineyards (more on this next week).

Jim Law's Hardscrabble Vineyard

While I took my little vacation from computers, I was struggling with how to talk about this part of TasteCamp.  I totally get that the vineyard is a critical factor in making great wine.  I also recognize that I’m not a plant person and I get bored when talk turns to soils, trellising systems, etc.  Given this, I tried to make Grape Envy Guy write this post since he geeks out on all things botanical, but his life is even more hectic than mine, and it just wasn’t in the cards.  Given this, I figured I had to just bite the bullet and share some general impressions with you.

Doug Fabbioli in his vineyard

First of all, all 4 vineyard visits made clear that these winemakers/vineyard managers are passionate about what they do in the vineyard and understand that it has a direct, and centrally important, relationship to what ends up in the bottle.  If you haven’t done a vineyard walk, watch for the opportunity to do wine at a local winery.  You’re bound to learn something, and it may well change how you think about wine (local or otherwise).

Jordan Harris

Second, despite the VA wine industry maturing, there’s still a lot of experimentation going on.  For example, both Doug Fabbioli and Jim Law talked about experimenting with carmenere, Jordan Harris talked about his lack of satisfaction with his trials of grenache and mouvedre, and everyone talked about trying different clones and rootstocks.

Tarara's Nevaeh Vineyard

Third, site matters.  Grapes will grow on a lot of different sites throughout the state, but they aren’t all ideal.  Also, even within a given vineyard site (e.g., the Hardscrabble Vineyard at Linden), there are microclimate issues that need to be considered, soil variations, etc.  Winegrowers are getting more and more selective about the sites on which they plant their vineyards, the varieties they plant at each site, etc.  That said, economics play a major role in the choices people make, and many are working with less than ideal sites (Fabbioli being one such example).

Tranquility Vineyard

Fourth, there’s a real tension between the desire to make “fine wine,” which often involves incredibly low yields per acre, and the desire to actually be able to make a living from a vineyard/winery.  This also plays a role in bottle price (practices resulting in lower yields may drive a higher bottle price, etc.).  This drives choices about trellising, fruit dropping, etc., and I’m starting to understand how this changes the resulting wine (lower yields may result in more concentrated flavors while higher yields may be related to more overt fruitiness by less depth or development of complex flavors).  Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with any of these choices – it is a business, and people need to make money.  That said, it’s really interesting to learn about factors that play a role in and motivate vineyard management choices.

Doug Fabbioli is growing pears in ship bottles for his pear "port"

Finally, it was again reiterated that the VA wine world is incredibly collaborative.  People share their successes and struggles so that all can improve the quality of the wines being made in the commonwealth.

Jim Law - a teacher, mentor, and advisor to many - still sees himself as a student

Because I’m not sure where else I’ll put these things, let me cram a few more pieces of information in here…

Did you know that Doug Fabbioli grows and sells asparagus?

Doug Fabbioli is one of the founders of the Piedmont Epicurean Arts Center which was founded to help students learn about the epicurean arts from farm to table so that they can establish their own successful agribusiness and play a role in keeping parts of VA (such as Loudoun County) actively agricultural.

Ben Renshaw

Ben Renshaw was a major trooper since he hosted the Tranquility Vineyard walk the day after his wedding!

Otium Cellars

Thanks to Otium Cellars, handily across the street from Tranquility Vineyard, for hosting tasting after our vineyard walk.  GEG and I still intend to return for a more traditional winery visit and tasting in the, hopefully, not too distant future, but it was nice to get a sneak peek at the Otium releases.  My favorite of the ones we tried that day was the ’10 malbec, but I still preferred the two vintages of the Furnace Mountain Red from 8 Chains North that we tasted.

 

7 Reasons Your Tasting Room Experience Sucks

Back when we did our “Virginia Versus the World” Tasting at Jefferson Vineyards, we talked about the way that the tasting room experience can impact our impressions of a winery’s offerings. It’s unfortunate but true. Most Virginia wineries are pretty great, but there are some places where they fall down. Did I miss your pet peeve? Let me know in the comments!

1. It’s unclear what we’re supposed to do. It doesn’t matter whether you’re talking about retail or a website or a museum, folks want to know that they start at A, move to B, then move to C. Most wineries take the tasting fees at the end, so if you want the fees up front – make sure it’s obvious.

2. You make me pay up front. I’m sure you have your reasons, but I don’t like it. It changes the feel of the whole experience and it makes me less likely to buy a bottle because I have to get in line all over again. I’m American, we suck at queuing up.

3. You’re understaffed. Look, I get that running a winery is like living in a casino. You’re rolling the dice against the weather, insects, disease, ripeness, bottling problems, stupid county government, public tastes, snarky winebloggers, plumbing backups, and vengeful Sumarian gods like Zool the Traveler. On top of all that, you have to play the game of “too many or too few staffers.” Just a heads up – if it’s a holiday weekend? I’d bet on needing more people.

4. You suck at handling crowds. Sometimes you get overwhelmed, which is a good problem to have. Granted, if you guessed wrong at #3, you may have done it to yourself. Anyhow, have a plan for how to handle it! We stopped at Corcoran Vineyards a few months ago. Jim Corcoran was by himself, pouring for a room  packed with people. The last time I saw one man doing so many things so quickly in a small space was when I watched a Neil Peart drum solo in fast forward. He acknowledged everyone as they came in, let them know it was going to be a bit of a wait, and offered everyone a glass of wine while they waited. We declined the glass, because that would make the tasting a challenge, but just having someone acknowledge that they know we’re there? Priceless. Seriously, it’s customer service 101. It’s amazing how far a simple gesture can go.

5. The person pouring sucks. We often give a shoutout to tasting room staffers who are knowledgeable, personable, passionate, and engaged. There seem to be a lot of them out there, which is fantastic. Unfortunately, that makes it all the more glaring when someone is just punching a clock at a winery because Subway makes them wash their hands too much. Still, they should at least be knowledgeable about your wines, and please teach staffers that if they don’t know the answer – it’s ok to say “I don’t know, let me find out.” My brain still hurts from the staffer who said Thomas Jefferson invented Norton.

6. Your wines are too cold. No excuse. Even if we walk in right after you unlock the front door, the wine should be at a temperature where I’m able to get a nose and get flavors. If I’m wrapping my hands around the glass frantically trying to raise the wine’s temperature above Slurpee, that’s bad.

7. We’re racing the clock. That obnoxious, shrieking and giggling bachelorette party? For the love of all things holy, splash and dash ’em and get them back in the limo. The rest of us, however, should get enough time to actually appreciate and taste the wine, maybe even take a note or two. I’m not a steer in a cattle chute. Know how you can tell? Steers don’t wear pants. Be happy I wore pants.

So, those are my seven. What did I miss?