Les Blog

[ Apropos the dawn of a new decade in a couple days, a wine column I wrote about the anxiety surrounding the dawning of the last one -- the infamous Y2K -- and how savvy wine hoarders (er, collectors) might make the most of it. ]

It’s the beginning of a new year, but instead of optimism, there’s an undercurrent of unease about what life will be like 345 days from now. Forgetting the religious nuts and their threats of apocalypse, it’s geeks and the specter of core, computer-based systems taking a dive that really has people freaked out. Will there be water, gas, phone service? Authorities assure us there will, but the eerie thing is that no one really knows for sure. We certainly don’t. We’ve already heard reports of people starting to hoard food, so we say play it safe: start hoarding wine. In other words, start a cellar.

Indeed, when the infrastructure of American civilization grinds to a halt, it’s critical we remember that it won’t just be difficult to get food, it will be impossible to get wine. If you’ve thought ahead, you’ll be sitting pretty, with ample stores to wash down the leaves, berries, or grubs you’ve collected for a meal. In fact, your cellar will be a gold mine to barter for all manner of goods and services as unprepared wine lovers scrabble about, fermenting their socks and bits of string. Think of what could be yours for a simple bottle of French Côtes-du-Rhône: a mere $9 while money still works, it may be worth a chauffeur-driven, Flintstone-like car in the new millennium.

But as before the revelation of the Y2K bug, it will be important to follow a few simple rules to safeguard your investment. Continued …

Outside of Georges DuBoeuf’s Beaujolais Nouveau marketing scam, it’s unheard of: releasing a wine in its vintage year. But here in our basement lair, we’re always hearing the unheard (dear Santa: tinfoil hat patch kit, please), so we thought we’d try it, too. The result: last Thursday night, a small group of us got together to bottle the first expression of the 2009 vintage — a “second wine” (or “piquette”) of Cabernet Sauvignon — which we’ve pithily christened “Peugeot Nouveau.”

A second wine is kind of like “small beer”: you take the leftovers from the first round of winemaking (in this case, the cake left over after pressing), and reconstitute it with water, sugar, and sometimes tartaric acid. Since the yeast still lurk within, nursing hangovers from their first binge, the party starts again within a few hours.

Unfortunately for them, there’s a catch: the good times may be rolling again, but the bar’s now only pouring well drinks. Because the vast majority of a red wine’s flavor comes from, essentially, an infusion of juice with grape skins, the first press has carried away the bulk of the good stuff — or so you hope. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t some oomph left in the skins, especially in our case, since our press isn’t pro enough to squeeze the daylights out of them. So for us, a second wine is aptly named: a second chance to capture all the flavor packed into the grapes we bring in.

Still, what you get isn’t exactly a Robert Parker, stand-a-spoon-in-it wine (“I had to use a knife and spread it on pain grillé — 100 points!”), so we decided to embrace its essential, uncomplicated nature. Like Beaujolais Nouveau, it’s fruity and easy drinkin’, but with enough verve and flavor to brighten a dark winter night.

We’ll be “releasing” it New Year’s Eve, just under the wire to taste 2009 in 2009. Happy new year, everyone!

Foul fest’ring cake that rules the night,
Removes the grape skins from our site,
It stinks so bad it might ignite,
So we decide that it is shite.
And the vintage’s conclusion?

[ apologies to the Moody Blues ]

Somehow amidst the frenzy of crush, we managed to bottle last year’s Syrah and Port. Actually, “managed” isn’t quite the right word; “had to or else” is closer to the truth. I’d been thinking we’d try aging both wines for another few months, but we simply needed to free up some space for the 2009s heading pell mell toward the end of fermentation all around us.

Luckily, we had enough people to make it go smoothly, and for our trouble, walked away with a surprisingly luscious Syrah — pure and rich but rewardingly complex. I’d think this one will unclench from its traumatic journey into bottle sometime around the new year, but that said, I won’t do any significant dipping into my stash until late spring at the earliest.

More pics and a bit on the port after the jump…
Continued …

As we threatened in a previous post, we partially pressed the Cabernet Sauvignon last night, putting approximately 2/3 of the must into barrel and the rest into the variable height tank for 3 weeks of solitary. I think this is the farthest we’ve ever taken a wine before pressing — no cap to speak of, indicating the yeasts had truly left the building. I thought it tasted great.

What went into the barrel was essentially all “free-run” — we didn’t actually squeeze the grapes, but poured stuff in the top of the open press, letting it percolate through the staves into a waiting bucket below, leaving grape skins and seeds behind. Because the wine becomes a lot more tannic once you start pressing (the tannin comes from the skins and seeds, after all), it’ll be interesting to see how this free run juice evolves. More interesting, of course, will be how the extended maceration changes the Cab — assuming we don’t f*** it up, that is.

And so we bid a fond farewell to the ferments of 2009: Merlot, Syrah, Pinot Noir, Rosé, Cab Franc, Cab Sauv and Pinot Gris (in that order), payload violently spent but safely past the upper atmosphere, now nestling into the vessels in which they’ll contentedly snore through winter and malolactic fermentation (a secondary fermentation that changes malic acid in the wine to softer lactic acid).

So with a tear in our eye, we cast our eye back over the good times and say goodbye to

спалниWAIT! No! [here he breaks down and sobs, smacking his arm to bring up a vein] It can’t be over already?! Please? One more ride on the sweet, fragrant roller-coaster of fermentation? Please?

And as luck and the infinite durability of yeasts would have it, that’s exactly what we’re doing. Like wild-eyed Wall Street brokers who can’t leave the thrill of derivatives alone, we’re going back to the market for one more ferment, baby! All it takes is the spent “cake” from the Cabernet Franc and Cabernet Sauvignon pressings, a dentist’s nightmare worth of sugar and a small ocean of water and the yeasts will take up right where they left off.

It’s a so-called “second wine,” and a chance to fill the house with perfume again. But if it doesn’t work, you’ll bail us out again, won’t you?

Normally, once the yeasts have consumed all the sugar in a must, they stop producing alcohol and CO₂, and as a consequence, you lose a protective layer of gas on top of the wine that helps inhibit bad bacteria from colonizing your wine. So, when the “cap falls” — when there’s no longer CO₂ pushing the skins to the surface, it’s time to press, if not before.

Now, if you’re feeling lucky, or if you have a way to float additional CO₂ on top, you can certainly leave it be for a bit. Presumably, what you’ll get is even more stuffing from the skins and seeds, so if you like your wines tannic, this could be a way to go. The trouble is that the skins and seeds are now soaking in 14% alcohol, so not only will you get more flavor from the skins, the alcohol will act as a solvent, leaching more bitter, mouth-drying tannins from the seeds.

So because we’re not looking for the taste of the Home Depot lumber yard in our wines, we’ve always pressed just before the cap falls, ensuring along the way more healthy wines.

Some winemakers, however, are not so leery, and in fact, shoot the moon with a process called “extended maceration” — rather than pressing when the cap falls, they seal the wine up in tanks, protected by CO₂, and leave it soaking for as much as a month and a half. Yes, you read that right: 45 days.

So this year, throwing caution to the wind, we’re going to try it ourselves. How will this mad gamble work? And why would we want our wine to evoke the subtle flavor of a 2×4? Find out below…
Continued …