Chicago the Spectacular

After my initial success with WiFi there have been disappointments so I’ve saved everything – the Herald column, the blog, the bill payments, the emails – for one day. The day before we left San Francisco the sun came out and we took a walk up Nob Hill and around Chinatown. It was Sunday, so crowded with dawdling tourists which always drives me crazy, but a fountain donated by Mrs James Flood on Nob Hill, which features three dancing cherubs, captivated me because of their darling faces turned to the sun:

Then before we departed, I insisted on being photographed outside the San Francisco Press Club.

And I took a photo of the wines you can taste at the Press Club. If you look carefully at this photo you can see me taking a photo of me:

Then it was off to O’Hare, Chicago airport, where we arrived at around midnight. Must say, domestic first class United Airlines is only the equivalent of economy Air New Zealand, just with a little more space. We should be proud of our national airline. The Krsuls – John and Justine – our friends whom we met last year at the ABA (American Bar Association)meeting in New York when they were assigned to host us and who live in Bridgman, Michigan State, collected us next morning from our airport hotel and drove us to their place. First we went to Mount Baldy, Indiana State Park,  in a somewhat roundabout way. Not deliberately, we went through Gary, Indiana, one of the poorest towns in the USA. This is where the Jackson Five were born. I was pleased we drove through here, it’s tragic and sad. It once was a thriving steel worker town but no longer. To cut a long story short we did end up at Mount Baldy, a huge sand dune on the shores of beautiful Lake Michigan, had our picnic lunch, then drove to the Krsul’s daughter and son-in-law’s property, Longacres, on the lake, where we had a lovely traditional American beach family barbecue (grill) complete with swim, fireflies, chit-chat, children, organic beef burgers, Michigan wines, beautiful salads and just good old American hospitality. Americans, I swear, are the most hospitable nation on the earth. These are some shots of that lovely family:

Next day we went for a walk through the woods by John & Justine’s house,

down to and along the beach.

This area of America is so beautiful, it’s like stepping back in time. Everywhere we went, they never locked the car. On our third and last day, we went to visit some wineries and vineyards and it was interesting to see the different viticulture from ours, much more relaxed. No netting was required because there is no bird problem. There are no strong poles required for trellising like ours. The canopy is not trimmed like ours, but much more relaxed and allowed to grow longer, as you can see by this photo. One of the wineries, Round Barn (with this delightful old barn where they hold wine tastings) also makes beer and vodka. And here we are outside the Krsul’s cool car.

Then it was packing bags again and driving to Chicago for the ABA meeting – a fantastic time with great speakers in that architecturally spectacular city. You can read about one of the highlights for me, a speech by retired Justice David Souter in the Herald on Sunday, next Sunday in my column, and later I hope to write about another high, when we listened to the American Attorney General talk about solutions to crime (not three strikes policy which isn’t working here) and we sat just in front of Bill Gates’ family when Bill Gates senior received the ABA medal. Last night was the black tie dinner and we sadly  farewelled the Krsuls who were driving home to Bridgman.

One more day, then tomorrow we leave for London.

 

Extolling the praises of Littl’ Juey

Yes, I know I’ve raved about Littl’ Juey before, but this New Zealand invention is so damned good it deserves to take another bow. It was recommended to me by Farmer Stu, who lives up the road and got married recently to the lovely Rosie (bad photo, but you get the picture). That’s Farmer Stu with the buttonhole, and not sure who his bride’s talking to, obviously someone who wishes he was marrying her.

Farmer Stu teases me a bit, but we put up with it because he’s a nice man.

Back to Littl’ Juey. Unlike other line trimmers, or weed eaters, this one doesn’t have a spool of nylon which constantly breaks and has you stopping what you’re doing, which is sweating away at cutting the grass, and unwinding the spool then trying to get it all back into the blimmin’ thing without it all coming unwound again. And without me coming unwound. I tell you, it tries the temper.

Littl’ Juey has one piece of nylon. I’ve shown two here, so you can see them.

You thread them through a hole in the centre piece, tighten it up with a little metal spike, then away you go.

The shaft looks like this:

And you can take this:

And turn it into this:

So get on down to your friendly Mitre 10 and get a Littl’ Juey (“Kicks Grass!”) or visit www.littljuey.com

 

 

 

A

 

Voice of the Vine – Washington State University

Raining today – 29 mm so far. Chooks sulking, Kete miserable, horses under the dripping trees and Taja curled up in her basket, but a good chance for me to catch up on baking and reading.

I subscribe to Voice of the Vine, an email newsletter from Washington State University – go to http://wine.wsu.edu – which has really interesting information about the latest research. The grammar in the newsletter is sometimes a bit awry, but the passion behind the writing is something I do enjoy. Today’s newsletter has an especially nice snippet which reflects the community of wine growers and makers, and I reproduce it here. Perhaps it is a programme the New Zealand wine community might like to consider:

Community and Collaborates in Support of WSU V&E
	When Seattle’s renowned “Chef in the Hat” was approached by Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery about participating in a program to raise funds for WSU’s viticulture and enology program he not only agreed, he offered to make his own contribution. Chef Thierry Rautureau, owner of the highly acclaimed Rover’s Restaurant, says he contributed out of a sense of community. Last fall, Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery in Woodinville launched a program dedicating a portion of their wines sales to the WSU Viticulture and Enology Program. A total of 123 restaurants joined the effort, raising $40,000 to fund scholarships, research and equipment. The program is the brainchild of Ste. Michelle’s director of global accounts N.W. region Joe Aschbacher (WSU Class of ’87, School of Hospitality). Aschbacher says when he approached Ste. Michelle Wine Estates president and CEO Ted Baseler (’76, Communications) with the idea, “he really sank his teeth into it.” The concept is simple. Ste. Michelle provided marketing materials and information to generate awareness of the WSU program that trains the next generation of grape growers and winemakers and fuels research in support of the industry. The winery offered training and materials for participating restaurants and donated a portion of the sale of each bottle or glass of their wines to the V & E program. For Rover’s owner and chef, Thierry Rautureau, joining the effort was a no-brainer. “When I heard about it, I felt it was an easy one for us as well,” Rautureau says. “They offered me a discount on their premium wine, Col Solare, so I decided to discount it for my customers and donate $5 a bottle from my proceeds. They gave me a deal, and I simply passed it on. It was a win-win.” When asked about his motivation, the internationally acclaimed chef simply replied, “community.” “I feel very much a part of the wine equation in Washington state,” says Rautureau. “It’s a circle. Someone in eastern Washington grows the grapes. Someone buys them and makes wine. Someone distributes it, and I sell it. We’re all involved in the community.”	Top: The “chef in the hat,” Thierry Rautureau. Bottom: Joe Aschbacher, Ste. Michelle’s director of global accounts N.W. region For more information on viticulture and enology at WSU, please visit: http://wine.wsu.edu/

 

Veraison

Suddenly it’s all go in the vineyard. We’ve had an enormously hot summer – when we were away the temperature in the vineyard reached 35.6C , and even though it’s only mid-to-late January, veraison is upon us. Veraison, as defined by Jancis Robinson, is “when the grapes begin to soften and change colour, those on the outside of the bunch first. Immediately after veraison, six to seven weeks after the completion of flowering, the grape ripening process goes into top gear, especially in warm, sunny, dry weather…At the same time the shoots start to turn from green and springy to brown and hard. The vine is starting to store energy for the winter and the following year.”

Yesterday Rowan was doing the last grape spray, and tooting the tractor as he went up and down the rows. I was coming back from feeding the horses, saw hares scattering from the path of the tractor like peasants before the wheels of a dictator’s limousine, and thought he was chasing them away from the irrigation pipes. When they get thirsty, instead of going down to the creek, they bite through the pipes and suck like babies. But the birds, he said, were already into the vines, not eating grapes yet, just getting themselves prepared for a feast. The varmints.

So today all the guys are here, putting on the nets. As we drove through Martinborough, the same is happening all over the area – nets are out and everyone’s working like trojans. It’s an exciting time of the year, as the vineyards swing into overdrive.

Looks like here at Redbank we will have a good vintage, touch wood. We received a very heartwarming report from Nick Hoskins of Vine Managers, which opened with the lines:

“I am very pleased with how the vineyard is looking, particularly the more even shoot growth – a combination of pruning shoot thinning at fertigation. Rowan has been doing a great job of getting the details right. Jane [Cooper, wine maker] is also very pleased with the shoot positioning.”

When you receive something like this, and you know it to be true as opposed to someone telling you what they think you want to hear, it makes all the hard work, which goes into earning enough money to pay the bills, not so bad after all.

 

More on Science or Art

Further to my last post about research at Auckland University, I’ve had my attention drawn to research being undertaken by scientists in China. They believe they can turn “plonk” into good wine by passing the wine through an electronic field to soften and age it.

According to New Scientist magazine, chemists at South China University of Technology have discovered that a few minutes of exposure to an electric field “can soften harsh red wine and produce the hallmarks of ageing – a more mature nose, better balance and greater complexity”.

And in our local newspaper covering this story, Auckland University wine scientist Paul Kilmartin states he’s been doing similar work for a while, but putting carbon electrodes and low electrical charges into barrels of wine for 12 weeks to accelerate the maturing of the wine. However, Kilmartin sounded a warning about putting in too much oxygen “or something where things change too rapidly” because of the risk of imparting to the wine an “off” flavour.

The article concludes with reports of an Australian doctor who claims he’s creating “the world’s healthiest wine” by putting one hundred times more veratrol into each bottle. This, he says, makes the wine a “pipe cleaner”, clearing the arteries and blood vessels, and lowering the risk of heart attacks.

After my last post, on “dial a sauvignon”, I received a great email from Brian Clark, editor of Washington State University’s College of Agricultural, Human and Natural Resources Science newsletter, called “Voice of the Vine“, in which he defends the role of science in filling the gaps in our knowledge. You can read his comment, which I approved to the post, and any more contributions to this debate are gratefully received.

I suppose, in one way, the Chinese scientists research could make wine less expensive to buy, and therefore turn on more drinkers to good wine, rather than wasting their money on rubbish which makes them ill and puts them off red wine altogether. Maybe it’s the Tim Rice/Andrew Lloyd Webber effect – critics call their compositions “opera for the masses” but I say, at least it introduces people to the joy of musicals.

 

Science or Art?

Here’s a topic for debate. In Colin’s latest issue of the University of Auckland Alumni magazine, ‘Ingenio’, there’s an article about research into New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Six million dollars is being spent on “a project to find out what makes New Zealand sauvignon blanc so distinctive on the global market”. In what could reasonably be described as hyperbole, the article predicts that soon, winemakers may be able to “dial a sauvignon” so every sauvignon produced for the world market can be more-or-less the same.

Is this what we want? Is this what winemaking has come down to, scientists analysing wine compounds so they can, as project leader Professor Richard Gardner (Biological Sciences) says, “control them”?

I’m not questioning the need to consistently strive for the best wine in the world, but there is much debate about how we achieve this. I personally adhere to the view – held by top winemakers – that the best wine is made in the vineyard. On the other hand, these scientists are using government money to prove that yeast is one of the most important keys to producing a good wine, ergo good winemaking starts after harvest.

The team’s research has taken them to Kumeu River Wines, owned and run by the wonderful Michael Brajkovich MW, and his siblings Milan, Paul, and Marijana, to look at the use of natural yeasts as opposed to commercial yeasts. (The Coddington Chardonnay produced by Kumeu River comes from my brother’s vineyard near Huapai, Auckland, and in 1994 I helped Tim and Angela Coddington plant these vines). At Kumeu River the researchers have discovered – surprise, surprise – “numerous different yeasts growing naturally on the grapes and vines”. Tell us something we don’t know.

I’m not sure about this direction in winemaking. Sure, the science of winemaking is indisputable, but the art of winemaking is often – and foolishly – overlooked. I think of the analogy of baking, something very dear to my heart. I could get scientists to analyse to the extent of paralysis the ingredients of a good cake – lightness, moistness, flavour – but in the end good cooking comes down to what’s going on inside the cook. If you make food for people with love in your heart, the food will turn out to be magnificent. If you don’t believe me, read “Like Water For Chocolate” and weep at the wedding scene.

I know I’m prejudiced and sexist, but I favour female winemakers, or at least those male winemakers who are in touch with their feminine side. Jane Cooper, our winemaker, knows all the science of winemaking inside out and back to front, but she’s more impressive, in my opinion, when she just leads from the heart (and the nose). Just like I was impressed, about a decade ago, when I first met Claire Allan of Huia in Marlborough, who used to make unbelieveably good Gewurztraminer (haven’t had any for a while).

And another thing – just because the world loves New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc right now, does that guarantee a future for our particular style? Isn’t it presumptuous to assume that the international taste for wines will never change? We only have to look at how the New Zealand palate has developed – from sweet wines and sherry to the sophistication of today.

I will watch this “Dial a sauvignon” project with interest.

 

A Milestone!

We had a fantastic surprise this morning. Colin & David (his brother from Melbourne) decided to go for a walk over the paddocks into Martinborough. There is a public walkway across private farmland (courtesy of the generous farmers – just shut the gates and beware of bulls) and I said I’d go in to collect them, and we’d have lunch at the Village Cafe, which is part of the Martinborough Wine Centre.

When Colin phoned to say they’d arrived, he said, “Guess which wine on the blackboard is the best-selling red wine of the moment?” James Pinot Noir 2005! This is just so exciting for us, and a fantastic weekend for such publicity because the town is packed (no accommodation left) because Alana Estate are having a big outdoor concert with John Cougar Mellencamp and Sheryl Crow. All those people will see that our wine is doing fabulously – and there is no better wine critic than the public drinker.

So I rushed right on in there and took a photo:

It’s a lovely walk, if you ever come to Martinborough. You can either depart from Shooting Butts Road in Martinborough and walk to Te Muna Road, or vice versa. We go up through Smitty’s paddock and into town (I say ‘we’, but truth be told, I’ve never done it). They had a good old time, found some wild rosemary, and took photos looking back down at our house (me in the vege garden planting corn, tomatoes, lettuces, carrots and radishes), then across the meadows into Martinborough:

Now I have to go up the hill and catch Smitty because his girlfriend is arriving this afternoon – Lily – who’s going to be Colin’s horse. Smitty hasn’t seen another horse for more than 12 months so it will be very interesting to see his reaction.

 

Toast Martinborough

Feeling a tad weary this morning – the after-effects of a day out in the sun with 10,000 others celebrating Toast Martinborough, our annual wine and food festival. I hadn’t been before – Colin’s been many times – and the day’s huge national success (tickets sell out within minutes when they go on sale in October) is a tribute to the hard work, planning, and dedication from local wineries and others, like the Lions.

Our good friend from Wellington, Caroline Kells, drove over on Saturday, stayed the night, and came with us. We started off at Palliser Estate, with a glass of 2005 Methode Traditionnelle, and a breakfast muffin hot toasted and filled with crispy bacon, fried egg, avocado and smoked tomatoes. The food at Palliser was done by Salute, of Greytown, one of New Zealand’s best restaurants and certainly a stand-out in Wairarapa. Despite catering for literally thousands, the muffins were fresh, great, and just the thing to put some protein in our tummies at the start of a long, liquid, day. The Methode was light, refreshing, and very easy to drink.  We ran into people we knew and didn’t expect to find – old mates like Brownie from the North (Wayne and his wife Toni – he’s Mayor of Northland now).

The crowd was still sober – the young girls looking lovely in their summer frocks.

For those who’ve never been to Toast, the procedure goes like this: You buy your ticket for $60 and on the day you hand that in and receive a wine glass to hang around your neck. That’s your entry into all the wineries, where musicians are playing, plus your drinking vessel for the day. You also get a booklet with wine lists and menus at all the participating wineries. Free shuttle buses motor around the circuit, and you jump on and off when you choose. You also buy “francs” with your cash, to pay for the wine and food. This disappears very quickly.

We jumped on a bus and motored around a few wineries which were already turning into booze barns – Craggy Range (we sampled the 2008 Te Muna Road Riesling and had a chat with Andrew Barnes, our former vineyard manager who’s gone on to better things), Martinborough Vineyard, and Winslow. The young ones loved it, but we decided to press on. We wandered into Margrain and that was lovely – well organised and no queues for wine or francs. We purchased a glass of 2008 Pinot Rose each and found a table. Rodger Fox and his Big Band were playing, joined on the stage at one o’clock by Ray Woolf, so the place started filling up with oldies like us who remember him from the sixties.

He’s lost none of his energy, and the voice is holding up well. We enjoyed that, sipping our  Rose, and Colin had a glass of the 2008 Chenin Blanc, made famous by the vineyard established by one of Martinborough’s early wine pioneers, the late Stan Chifney. I think it’s probably a good thing that this photo turned out a little bit dark:

Feeling like lunch, we walked along the road to Ata Rangi, a superb site for this sort of thing with plenty of space, a large marquee, music from the Nairobi Trio, Elizabeth Braggins, and Graham Wardrop. Ruth Pretty was catering, and we felt like a steak and kidney pie. I was despatched to purchase three lunches, and the pies proved so popular I had to wait 20 minutes but that was cool. The nice lady at the counter said she’d remember me if I came back to collect them later, so I wandered back to Colin & Caroline, and our glasses of 2006 Craighall Chardonnay. I hadn’t visited Ata Rangi since I lived in Martinborough in the late 1970s, early 1980s, when proprietor Clive Paton was a struggling solo Dad to my daughter’s best friend, Vanessa. Clive worked so hard, planting all his vines and doing all his own labour, living in a garage, and growing and selling vegetables to make ends meet. He certainly deserves every bit of his success now.

Still sober enough to keep on walking, we continued to Alana Estate, where things were starting to get a little hectic. Caroline & I eschewed alcohol, content to sit and watch the (very sunburned) kids dancing to the music of The Shenanigans.

Colin had some 2008 Riesling. The food looked good – Alana’s restaurant is on site and very consistent and reliable. A good place during the week to have lunch – maitre d’ Michael looks after the customers superbly.

By now it was nearing the end of the day for us. Caroline had to start work at 4am Monday (in Air New Zealand’s Koru Lounge) so we headed for Te Kairanga (on the bus) and walked down the hill to listen to Uncle Monkey and drink some 2004 Runholder Pinot Noir. Montana’s hero Peter Hubscher is managing Te Kairanga, and the man himself was at the gate, picking up bottles and ensuring the entrance remained looking tidy. His wife was serving wine in the tent. I like bosses who will do the tasks they expect the workers to do. But oh dear, there were some very, very drunken people here:

When Caroline left, we briefly returned to Palliser to hear The Beat Girls, but it was a bunfight so we pushed ourselves on another bus and returned to Te Kairanga, where they were selling off the food – lovely Thai scallop salad with coriander, mint, red chilli and lime, made by Pravda Cafe in Wellington, and some Shed 5 (also of Wellington) handmade chocolate truffles.

We’d been invited to call in at a friend’s place on our way home, so I snapped these last two lovely vignettes of rural Martinborough as we walked back to our car, safely parked in Farmer John’s driveway:

 

Syrah-rah Boom-tee-ay

On Saturday, Colin suggested I put my ear to the bung-hole of one of the barrels of Syrah and listen. It was amazing! Have you ever heard the music made by the fermentation of grapes? You have to try – it’s incredible and I can’t really describe the feeling. The surprise element, of course, is that you don’t expect a barrel of liquid to be making such busy noises. Wooden barrels look, from the outside, so sleepy and contented, you’d expect the would-be wine inside to be the same. Not so. It’s as if a huge army of elves are at work, ensuring the malolactic fermentation is urging this grape juice on to its proper destination. It crackles and fizzes, but not in a champagne sort of way. I couldn’t stop listening and marvelling.

Then yesterday, when Colin went in to the winery, that same barrel was without its bung. We must have replaced it too firmly (which didn’t seem tight at all) which the elves didn’t like, so the fermentation blew the bung right out and across the floor of the winery, ending up on the other side of the room. It’s a timely lesson – if bungs are put in too tight and can’t blow out, the entire ends of barrels can explode, pouring precious wine all over the floor. I suspect that’s what some cheapskates scoop up and put into the cask wine which is guaranteed to make you extremely ill. Drink good wine, and you won’t get hangovers, is my motto.

In the vineyard, the 2009 vintage is now in the form of little flower buds. Difficult to photograph because they are so small against the intense green of the new grape leaves, I have nonetheless tried to capture some of the pinot noir flowers. They don’t look like flowers at all, more like miniature bunches of grapes.

Right now the vineyard is extremely vulnerable, and last night we had the telltale clear, cold sky with bright stars. Sure enough, early this morning the Frost Boss machines clicked into action and did their job, protecting the young flower buds from the fatally icy fingers of Jack Frost.

And speaking of making music, last night we went to see the movie “Young At Heart”. It’s the best movie I’ve seen for a long while – we cried buckets, and laughed fit to burst. It’s done documentary style, about a group of singers, average age 80-plus, and their musical director Bob, who give sell-out performances in the United States. Their sense of life, determination to live their lives to the full and ignore their terminal illnesses, or aches and pains, is so inspiring – everyone should see this movie. It should be compulsory in schools, because it also opens your heart to the fact that even though old people may sometimes look unattractive, they can still retain a wonderful ‘young at heart’ spirit. The oldies in this movie have a lot to tell us all. See the preview on YouTube.

 

Rolling Along

Thank You Rowan! One of the worst jobs in the vineyard, at least that I’ve had to do, is clearing stones from the space between the rows of vines. One of the traits of our vineyard is that the ground is exceptionally stony. The entire valley is probably an ancient river bed, and while this is good in terms of piling rocks and stones under the vines to reflect the heat back up on to the grapes, and intensify the ripening, it’s murder on equipment. I never thought, for instance, that the mere planting of ornamental grasses would entail the use of not just a long-handled shovel, but a crowbar and pick-axe, and this just to dig a hole about 10cm in diameter. When Colin has to create major holes, such as for my clothesline, or the new trellis we’re putting up to break the wind around the orchard (or to bury the paua and kina guts deep from marauding dog and cat), it’s a major excercise.

In the vineyard, we’ve had to completely replace the mower because the blades from the old one were stonkered from chomping through so many stones and rocks. Therefore, starting with in the viognier, we had been going down the rows on hands and knees, clearing away the stones. It takes seemingly for ever, is back-breaking, and hip-destroying.

Then along came Rowan with my life-saver – a roller which fits between the rows. Of course, when he first hired it, the rain determinedly stayed away and the ground was too hard to press, but early this morning we had a good shower, and here’s the champion of the morning at work:

See how much the grapes have sprouted in the last week. When you look out across the vineyard now, it’s very definitely green. Everyone in the village always asks, “Do you think it will be a good vintage again in 2009?” Well we just don’t know, and that’s one of the exciting, if nail-biting, things about having a vineyard. So far, the pointers are good. We have the frosts under control. But there’s a long way to go yet – two weeks’ rain in February or March and it’s goodnight nurse. Hush, I better not tempt the weather demons.