So you think you might want to be a winemaker?
Most new commercial wineries evolved from people who answering “yes” with passionate resolve to that question, and the launching pad for that passion is usually in their basements or garages.
It’s amazing how many people I’ve met who, with that recognizable twinkle in their eye that screams, “I’m on a mission from Baccus,” proudly proclaim they are making a little fermented grape juice. “Just a hobby but, maybe someday,” would be a typical continuation. Or, “I could bring by a bottle so you can try it and let me know what you think.” Which is always a very flattering cry for validation.
It’s been one of the coolest parts of being in the wine biz over the past decade, during which time I’ve witnessed probably one of the most dynamic explosions of new wineries in the history of any wine region on the planet. It is no wonder that there’s a newly emerging winery every 18 days (It would be probably be every 18 minutes if all the amateurs went pro.) All of these new wineries began with a simple “yes” to my original question.
So what’s it really like on a day-to-day basis to chase this monstrous passion for wine, combined with the “tinker gene” required to perform the alchemy we call winemaking. As usual, I turn to a gentleman who is the personification of wine passion and the poster child for all the upstart garage wineries popping up all over the Pacific Northwest. I have seen my buddy, John Bell of Willis Hall Winery in Marysville, go from making a proud declaration 15 years ago at a wine dinner in Seattle that, “I’m going to start my own winery,” to barreling into his fourth commercial harvest and crush this year. I thought a Q &A with J.B. might cast a little perspective on the reality of chasing the winemaking bug.
Wick: How do you feel about this year’s harvest?
J.B.: “I think this year’s harvest is exceptional – perhaps not as exceptional as 2005’s, but MUCH better than 2004’s. The 2006 vintage is another trickster unleashed by Mother Nature. As contrasted to 2005, the 2006 season started late by as much as three weeks in the vineyards, but the growing season was very hot, and the early harvesting varieties were actually a bit early relative to their usual schedule. I worried about the short “hang time” associated with this vintage and the possibility of flavors being negatively impacted. When I tasted the wines we’ve pressed so far this year, my worries were needless. The wines from 2006, so far, are spectacular – full of flavor, bright acidity, well-balanced without any intervention necessary by the winemaker.”
Wick: I met a lady at your winery the other day who said that she read “somewhere” that you could use volunteer help during crush. How important has it been to have a “village” help raise your wine?
J.B.: “Of all the things I’ve learned over my winemaking career (and that has been a LOT of things), the one most important thing I’ve learned is that it’s impossible to make great wine in any economically viable quantities without lots of dedicated and reliable help. An example of that help is a lady who called me last year to volunteer at my winery during harvest and crush. She heard about my need for help through a “Wick on Wine” column in last year’s Everett Herald just before harvest. Before long, both she and her husband, theretofore not much of a wine person, were spending both days each weekend, as well as the odd day off from their day jobs, helping do necessary work at the winery.
“I’m the luckiest person on earth with selfless helpers such as them. And best of all, they are my friends.”
Wick: Tell me about your blending process.
J.B.: “In my opinion, all the effort to coax grapes into wine is merely the technical aspect of winemaking. The art happens at the blending table. In an analogy to painting, making the individual barrels of wine is like putting the paint blobs on the palette. The blending table is where the art goes on the canvas. Blending is a time-consuming and arduous task that takes a toll on the winemaker’s palate. The tasting and trial blending process takes several days to complete. A typical day starts about 8 a.m. with no food (it would impact my palate and would interfere with my ability to taste the wines) and lasts ‘til I can’t stay awake any longer, usually about midnight or so. Then I start the next day at about 8 a.m. and continue until I’m finished. Sometimes this process lasts four or more days, depending on the number of barrels I have to taste and the number of blends I want to make. A really hard part is not eating.
“Many people tell me that I have the greatest job in the world, but I retort that they would surely change their minds after three or four straight days of evaluating and blending wines. There is not a lot of fun in spending several days in an alcoholic fog while trying to function at an intellectual task. It’s just hard work and not a lot of fun. The results are worth it, mind you. But getting to the results is a long row to hoe.”
Wick: So, what do you say to people who perceive winemaking as all about wine and roses and glamour and romance?
J.B.: “I’m continually amused by the portrayal of winemaking as a profession of glamour and romance. At the end of a long day of crushing grapes in the hot sun or in the driving rain, surrounded by hungry bees and yellowjackets, covered with sugar and bits of grapes and looking forward to standing for a long time in a hot shower, I wonder how it ever came about, this glamour and romance idea. Certainly, the consuming of wine can lead to such, but the making of wine is far from that paradigm. It’s just plain hard work, accompanied by sleep deprivation, carbon dioxide poisoning, hypothermia, aching muscles and bones, poor diet, dehydration and accompanying questions about one’s own sanity.
“But it’s all part of the great and wonderful process of turning one of nature’s little miracles, grapes, into an even greater miracle, wine. Those of us with passions to do so rarely succumb to the pressure and intensity of the winemaking process. Our perspective is on the larger picture, the vinous masterpiece that is the beverage of our passions. As for me, wine is not my passion. It is my art. It is how I express myself to others in this life. I do not make wine. I AM wine.
“Sant!”
Jeff Wicklund can be reached at 425-737-2600, 360-756-0422 or wick@purplesmilewines.com.
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