Bone dry

Apologies for the recent lay-off in posting. I’ve been focussing on getting my thesis ever closer towards the finishing line and as a result the motivation for writing has waned a little.

Nonetheless, it strikes me as a moment which is definitely comment worthy as I’m currently enduring the heat of a summer in London. Lovely as summer is, soaring heat and increasing droughts are symptomatic of global climate change. We’ve all heard the confident predictions about England’s future ability to produce greater volumes of wine and the quixotic dreamers who are planting vines and olive trees as far north as Yorkshire to get ahead of the trend.

Climate change is about much more, however, than simply improving the ambient weather in the British Isles.  Clearly for every net ‘winner’ during a period of global meteorological change, there is a requisite ‘loser’. I once had a winegrower from the Languedoc talk about how France’s South was moved ‘North’ when they joined the EU. He was worried that Spain’s introduction meant that part of what made the Languedoc unique in France (its weather, its soils) was diminished and this would affect the region’s development. Nonetheless, the region has soldiered on.

Yet climate change has the potential to very realistically alter the experience of countries which right now are perfect for winegrowing. This observation has been motivated by a report which focussed on the future of Californian & West Coast winemaking and the impacts of Climate change. Last summer I had the goof fortune to drive down the West Coast, from Portland OR to San Francisco CA and the beautifully dramatic coastline made its impression strongly. Along that jagged coast, the vineyards of the West have been at the forefront of changing wine trends since the famous Judgement of Paris in 1976 and continue to innovate with delicious boutique wines and commercially savvy crowd-pleasers.

The Climate study, undertaken by researchers at Stanford University, projected the 30 year impact of global warming on four West Coast winemaking regions: the Napa valley and the county of Santa Barbara in California, Oregon’s Willamette Valley (Yamhill county) and Washington’s Columbia Valley (Walla Walla County). The potential impact on these regions is severe and the report warns of a decrease of almost 50% of viable land for vines.

The study’s findings are based on an assumption of a 23% increase in the ouput of greenhouse gases, yielding a 1 degree centigrade temperature increase. this would, in turn, exacerbate the number of exceedingly hot days where the thermometers top 35 degrees centigrade along America’s western coast. Such intense heat would produce challenging conditions for Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir and Chardonnay and reduce the area where they thrive in Napa by potentially as much as half. Santa Barbara would shed 20% of its suitable area, whilst The Columbia Valley might expect a requisite figure of 23%. In Oregon, the Willamette Valley might actually see an increase in the amount of suitable land, benefiting from temperature increases along the often rainy Western seafront. Such a dramatic loss of arable land along the west coast would prove extremely challenging for America’s wine economy during already difficult times.

One potential example to look to for advice on managing such change however, is the Languedoc. Even as it faced the challenges of expanding European markets, the region was also beset by a variety of measures designed to improve its quality and reduce its yield. Often touted as the ‘new El Dorado’, as was California, the Languedoc was the focus of targeted ‘arrachage’ progammes, which rewarded winegrowers for uprooting high-yield vine stock. This led, in part, to a 29% reduction in the Languedoc’s vine coverage between 1970 and 1994, as regional development policy shifted away from bulk production towards better quality grapes and better quality winemaking. Now the Languedoc stands as one of the wine world’s success stories – although it is not without its problems – and it will be interesting to see the means by which California adapts to similarly enforced reductions in volume.

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andrew, July 7th 2011 | Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Grapes, Winegrowing, Winemaking

Upstairs Downstairs II

Following on from the last post about wealthy winegrowers and the stratosphere of the super-rich is another tale from the high-end of wine finance. Francis Ford Coppola is rightly famous for his esteemed career as a visionary and powerful film director, yet he is also a widely renowned Oenophile and dabbler in the viticultural arts.

Following the success of ‘The Godfather’, Coppola re-invested some of his new-found wealth in wine. Buying up the Niebaum estate in Napa Valley in 1975 allowed the director to involve himself and his family in the production of their own vintage. The Niebaum estate had itself been in existence since 1879, since its foundation by a Finnish mariner Gustave Niebaum. The Finn’s winery introduced many samples of the noble vine to the new world, quickly establishing itself as a hallmark of quality in the early days of American winemaking. Like much of America’s wine, however, it ceased production during the folly of the Prohibition years. Re-opened after repeal, Niebaum’s widow attempted to reclaim the quality for which the winery had been famed. In 1939 the great-nephew of Gustave, John Daniel Jr, took over the estate and win back its reputation in the early 1940s. Coppola’s purchase tied him into the very fabric of American winemaking and allowed him an insight into small-scale vinification and old fashioned viticuilture. Within two years of the purchase the winery showed promise, and its inaugural 1977 vintage was produced by hand and drew Coppola’s family together in a festival of winemaking.

Yet Coppola’s purchase of part of the Niebaum estate did not include the historic winery or the trademark ‘Inglenook’ brand under which the Niebaum estate had flourished. these were to pass between various corporate concerns over the intervening decades as part of various broad asset portfolios. After making a success of this small winery, however, Coppola had clearly found his thirst. The great director added to his estate piecemeal and by 1995 he had reconstituted most of the former Inglenook winery estate, although ownership of the historic ‘Inglenook’ trademark had eluded him until 2011.

Recent announcements from Coppola made public the hiring of former Chateau Margaux consultant Phillipe Bascaules (who served as Estate Director for 11 years at Margaux) in an effort to revive the Niebaum estate’s legacy under the ‘Inglenook’ brand. The stated intention is to create perhaps the finest ‘Old world’ winery in the United States, drawing on a long European heritage which is itself a rare commodity in the American wine industry. Bascaule’s belief in the winery’s potential along with the reassurance from Coppola that he will support the endeavour promises to reinvigorate a founding figure of American winemaking. Such a legacy is both challenging and exciting and presents a positive step.

In this instance, the injection of wealth into the wine industry has seen a forgotten gem unearthed with the promise that it will be placed back where it rightly belongs. The success of such gambles with investment are interesting although ultimately, it seems, predicated on the requisite passion injected alongside capital.

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andrew, April 20th 2011 | Posted in Uncategorized, Wine buying, Winegrowing

Playing to the Gallery

Much has been made of the potential for export growth to emerging luxury markets in both China and Russia. Many of the largest European and American brands who trade in such commodities have upped their representation overseas and staged large fairs and PR exercises designed to communicate ‘Old World’ sophistication and bolster their cultural capital. Wine has been one at the forefront of this development as an easily exportable status symbol with infinite potential for specialisation. The notion that one culture’s status symbol can be an instantly recognisable cipher for different values is an Ad man’s dream. When a product speaks of more than its qualities or production method, it gains a certain power. When that power becomes global, the product itself becomes a sort of gnomic reference to a whole litany of associations.

Andy Warhol once commented on the conceptual power of Coca-Cola in its unification of consumers across class, geography, sex and any other division. In his own eloquence:

“You can be watching TV and see Coca-Cola, and you can know that the President drinks Coke, Liz Taylor drinks Coke, and just think, you can drink Coke, too. A Coke is a Coke and no amount of money can get you a better Coke than the one the bum on the corner is drinking. All the Cokes are the same and all the Cokes are good.”

Juxtaposing these different situations presents a stark reminder of the socially levelling potential which the standardisation of products brings. Yet, at the same time, Warhol’s reflection presents us with a fairly interesting inverse. Those products which retain cultural cache and survive as unassailable status symbols in the modern world do so for exactly the reason that you can’t imagine their consumption by disparate social groups. Chateau Lafite is Chateau Lafite and whilst the President may drink it and Liz Taylor may well have done, the odds are that you can’t. Ouch. Don’t get me wrong, neither can I – that’s sort of the point of the whole status symbol thing. Yet these sorts of status symbols interest me not for their reserved nature, but for their transferability.

Chateau Lafite has massively boosted its profile in China with a culturally attuned move to enhance their appeal to that market.  Their newly bottled 2008 vintage has been daubed with the Chinese symbol for 8 – a specifically lucky symbol in a culture which values such charms. Incredulous western news reports often recount the exorbitant sale of phone numbers or vehicle registrations which predominantly feature the number 8. Regardless, the bottle’s labelling provides an approving nod from a genuine status symbol.

Lafite’s market share has since rocketed, as sales have risen on the back of this new engagement with Chinese culture.   UK wine sellers have reported wide-ranging stock shortages, as initial allocations flew out of the cellar and replacement stock has evaporated just as quickly. Indeed, investors reported an approximately 20% rise in prices, as a case surpassed the £10,000 mark for the first time. Investors have almost solely been Chinese or working towards the Chinese market.

For the brand spokespeople at Lafite, “the shape of the symbol seems to offer a perfect representation of the slopes of the vineyard and commemorates the launch of our Chinese wine project.” Indeed, the move is not wholly cynical. The symbol specifically commemorates the cooperation of Lafite with the Chinese State in planting 25 hectares of vines in the Penglai peninsula, Shangdong province. The seaside area, famed for dramatic coastal views and the Penglai Water Castle, boasts a moderate climate influenced by its position nestled between mountains and the sea. Long touted for investment, the Penglai are has been praised for the successful cultivation of noble varietals such as Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc and Ruby Cabernet. Some have even gone so far as to label it ‘China’s Bordeaux’, a moniker which will only be strengthened by Lafite’s investment.

Another interesting engagement with the Chinese market was made on behalf of Chateau Mouton Rothschild. Speculation that they were employing a Chinese artist to design the label for their 2008 vintage saw prices rocket on the back of market speculation. Playing to the gallery, it seems, pays well when done correctly.

Yet the eager courting of such markets brings with it abiding dangers. Such dangers don’t relate specifically to the Chinese market, or indeed any other, but instead stem from an over-reliance on the opinion of some. I have written before about Robert Parker and the perils of purported ‘Parkerisation’, which has seen French vineyards attempt to guide production towards the whims of one man’s critical empire. What then is to become of the next dominant market? Will the lure of China’s export potential drive changes in the production of wine in Europe?

This is an interesting prospect, made even more so by the prominent role of high status wineries in courting that market. If a recognised status symbol alters itself to suit an emerging market, does it change the value of the product as a status symbol? Likewise, it could be argued that the task of Lafite or any other prestige brand is to shape the market to their tastes. In an interesting economic dance, the competing influence of established product and eager consumer can lead to profound adaptation on both sides.

Perhaps in their plans to plant vines in Penglai, Lafite are stealing a march on their competition. If China is to emerge as a fine wine producer rather than just fine wine consumer (excepting the presence of many wineries such as Shanxi Grace which, although quality, lack the cache of Bordeaux’s leading houses), then European wineries would do well to get in on the ground floor. The adaptation of status symbols could well be worked round, as an organic brand emerging from within China and bearing the important association with French Chateaux could translate the competing desires of product and consumer. In this way, the negative aspects of processes like Parkerisation could cede to a genuinely sympathetic development which broaches the divide between emerging markets and existing products. Playing to the gallery need not be reductive if its chock full of other actors!

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andrew, October 29th 2010 | Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in Wine buying, Winegrowing, Winemaking

War of Wine

Marcelin Albert - 'the great redeemer'

One of the most interesting winegrowing areas in the world is the Languedoc-Roussillon region of France. Situated in the South-West of the country, this sun-scorched area is hemmed in by the Pyrenees and the Mediterranean. A land of rugby, boar-hunting and wine, the so-called Midi is an exciting area of production which has been one of France’s largest since time immemorial. A long history of over-production has somewhat hampered the area’s reputation, as the historic tendency has been towards the production of cheap, rustic reds designed to satisfy the home market’s desire for quick drinking wine at a discount. Yet, this Southern idyll has not always presented a tranquil face to the world.

The region vividly remembers 1907 as a moment of open revolt, when a series of riots in the region followed a wine crisis which made beggars of many. Some 600,000 people on the streets of Montpellier marked the high-point of a movement which say a regiment of the army mutiny in favour of the winegrowers after 6 people were tragically killed in the course of the demonstrations. Marcellin Albert, a cafe owner and winegrower from the village of Argeliers, was the passionate figure head of the movement and the local people referred to him as the ‘Redeemer’ of the Midi. Often presented as his able lieutenant, Dr Ernest Ferroul was an urban Socialist doctor from Narbonne whose fiery rhetoric impassioned the masses who moved to protest.

These riots fired a protest movement which spanned the subsequent century, motivating growers to protest against their poverty. This poverty was perceived to be the result of fraud, over-production and price fluctuations in the wine market. The riots of 1907 marked a high watermark that saw later winegrowers return to a moment of regional strength to express their discontent with the prevailing system. As growers articulately challenged the government to intervene throughout the twentieth century, vocal protests took up and developed the imagery of 1907.

Today, over a hundred years since the riots of 1907, there is a lot of interesting wine production in the Midi. Small artisanal growers are leading a charge towards high-quality, small-yield production geared towards selective drinkers and the export market. Demographic shifts and political changes have moved the region away from its traditional overproduction towards a more modern industry focussed on quality production.  Areas like Pic-St-Loup are becoming typical of a region on the up, as the problems of the past have ceded to a renewed passion for quality. The war of wine may yet be won!

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andrew, April 7th 2010 | Tags: , , , ,
Posted in Winegrowing, Winemaking

Going Ape For Grapes

I’ve written elsewhere (in my book The Wine Pocket Bible (2009)) about a story related to me by the man who taught me most of what I know about wine many years ago. Specifically, this related to Apes stealing specific grapes from vineyards in South Africa and the winegrowers using electric fences to repel them. The hilarious thing is that they are pretty selective about their choices!

Today I stumbled across an article in The Independent which investigated this very phenomenon. It is reproduced below:

Via The Independent newspaper (25/03/10):

Picky baboons develop a taste for pinot noir (but merlot just won’t do)

By Nastasya Tay in Johannesburg

Thursday, 25 March 2010

Baboons foraging for grapes near Cape Town: One winemaker has resorted to using rubber snakes to deter the beasts
AP

Baboons foraging for grapes near Cape Town: One winemaker has resorted to using rubber snakes to deter the beasts

Baboons, it seems, prefer pinot noir. They also like a nice chardonnay. Largely undeterred by electric fences, hundreds of wild baboons in South Africa’s prized winelands are feasting on ripe, succulent grapes, forcing winemakers to use noisemakers and rubber snakes to try to drive them off during this harvest season.

“The poor baboons are driven to distraction,” said Justin O’Riain, who works in the Baboon Research Unit of the University of Cape Town. “As far as baboons are concerned, the combination of starch and sugar is very attractive – and that’s your basic grape.”

Growers say the picky primates are partial to sweet pinot noir grapes, adding to the winemakers’ woe, for pinot noir sells for more than the average merlot or cabernet sauvignon.

“They choose the nicest bunches, and you will see the ones they leave on the ground. If you taste them, they are sour,” said Francois van Vuuren, farm manager at La Terra de Luc vineyards, 50 miles east of Cape Town. “They eat the sweetest ones and leave the rest.”

Baboons have raided South Africa’s vineyards in the past, but farmers say this year is worse than previous ones because the primates have lost their usual foraging areas due to wildfires and ongoing expansion of grape-growing areas. Out of a 12-tonne harvest, about 5 per cent goes to waste at La Terra de Luc because of the baboons. And in the Constantia wine-producing area alone, up to £23,000 worth of the crop has been lost annually in previous years, according to the Baboon Research Unit.

Sometimes the baboons get an alcohol kick – by feasting on discarded grape skins that have fermented in the sun. After gobbling up the skins, the animals stumble around before sleeping it off in a shady spot.

During harvest season from January to March, winemakers put up serious frontline defences. Some try to scare off the baboons by blowing into vuvuzelas, horns that are often used by South Africa’s football fans.

Electric fencing often doesn’t work because baboons can dig underneath it or swing above it from trees to get to the vineyards. They also test the fence for weak spots. If they’re shocked, they’ll scream, but they’ll probably return the next day, says Mr O’Riain.

Sakkie Lourens, manager of Cabrière farm, has found one ruse that seems to work – rubber snakes. “I put them all over where the vines are, and since then, I haven’t seen a single baboon,” he said.

The Baboon Research Unit is pioneering a hi-tech approach in which a collar with a sensor is placed on a member of a baboon troop. When the collar passes a particular point, an “incoming baboon” text message is sent to a mobile phone, prompting someone to race to the fence and defend the vineyard.

Mr O’Riain doesn’t think the problem will go away because vineyards are expanding into the lower slopes of the mountains, the baboons’ traditional foraging grounds. “Where there’s a mountain, there’s a baboon,” he said. “As we take up more and more of their land, the conflict increases.”

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/picky-baboons-develop-a-taste-for-pinot-noir-but-merlot-just-wont-do-1927000.html

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andrew, March 25th 2010 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Grapes, Winegrowing

Voodoo Chile: Carmenere comes back from the dead

There’s very little that can be said to be ‘new’ in the Wine world, with the practices of centuries filtering down into traditions which have become well established. Interestingly, some innovation has occurred in rediscovering old classics and forgotten styles. Re-using these established methods is both interesting and useful – representing a resurrection of ideas long thought dead.

One of these revenants is Carmenère, an interesting grape in itself. It fell out of favour in the Old World centuries ago, leaving Bordeaux before the blight of Phylloxera made itself firmly felt. It’s often described as the “lost Bordelais” grape, being almost totally unknown in its home in France. Centuries ago, monks set off on their missionary quest to South America, taking with them cuttings from the grapes from which they made their Abbey’s sacred  tipples. In its Chilean habitat, Carmenère was long believed to be a variant of Merlot until a French botanist discovered the truth after the Second World War.

The excess heat of the Chilean climate had allowed the grape to prosper as it had never done in Bordeaux. Nowadays it can be broadly expressive of chocolate and plummy notes, with a herbal lift which is characterised by violet or lavender. It’s similar to traditionally grown European Merlot, yet with a unique and interesting strength which Merlot often lacks. As a single varietal it is an exciting and singular grape which is definitely worth exploring in its own right.

Chile is not only famous for this obscure grape, however. Noble varieties of the Old World like Cabernet Sauvignon and Shiraz have found their home in the temperate mountains of Chile which play host to the majority of the country’s wine production.

Whether by Voodoo or otherwise, Carmenère is definitely back from the dead, but it can still be full of soul!

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andrew, March 25th 2010 | Tags: , , , , ,
Posted in Grapes, Winegrowing, Winemaking

Phylloxera: ‘To a Louse’

When Robert Burns satirically eulogised a flea in a lady’s bonnet, he intended it as a play upon the juxtaposition of wealth and disgust, setting the piece in the pews of a church. Years after Burns wrote the poem, another louse was to have a much wider ranging effect on the wealthy of Europe. The pest Phylloxera Vastatrix travelled across from America to wreak havoc in an unprepared Europe, whose unresistant vines were a playground for the voracious parasite. Phylloxera was no looker, and Burns can certainly be cited in condemnation of the “ugly creepin blastit wonner”.

Exactly how the pest made its way across the Atlantic is a subject of some debate. Some blame the amateur plant trade, with British collectors having run a successful trade in the collection of rare plants since at least the French Revolution. Some reason that the louse may well have arrived in a shipment of plants to collectors in Britain, before making its way South as an exchange took place. Others place the blame at the door of French winegrowers, eager to innovate and secure high-yield vines for use in their own country. Indeed, it may well be that both of these explanations ran simultaneously, as the louse spread slowly at first across Europe.

Panic set in as its spread across France quickened and reports from out with the country sprang up. Botanists and scientists toured vineyards to try and ascertain what was killing the vines, pondering on disease and blight before identifying the louse. Many ineffective remedies were suggested, including burying a live toad beneath the vines in order to soak up the poison. In fits of desperation, one wishes that these winegrowers had possessed a little more of Burns’ professed perspicacity with which to view the absurdity of these supposed cures:

“It wad frae monie a blunder free us

An’ foolish notion”

Potential solutions to the problem were hard to come by. Many grafted the roots of resistant American vinestock (vitis lambusca) onto the vulnerable European vine (vitis vinifera) to ensure that the louse would not be able to penetrate the thicker roots. The American vine produced an inferior wine to the European vine, but afforded hardier protection and higher yields. Grafting the two allowed growers to retain the quality of the European vine with the added protection of the American roots. Likewise, Phylloxera was unable to travel through exceptionally sandy soils and stony ground, which spared some areas in France and elsewhere from the ordeal. Châteauneuf-du-Pape is the most famous of these, where the pudding stones (known as galettes) in which the vines are grown prevent the pest travelling.

In Burns’ poem, the louse is a social leveller ignorant of airs and graces. Phylloxera had the same effect – tearing through Europe like a fire and blighting rich and poor alike. A tiny louse challenged a wealthy industry of centuries’ provenance and changed the entire practice of wine-growing in Europe. A tiny louse forced the wealthy of Europe to take a long hard look at their industry and work hard to re-establish the success of previous years.

“O wad some Power the giftie gie us

To see oursels as ithers see us! “

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andrew, March 15th 2010 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Winegrowing