Les Blog

Here’s a cautionary tale: what happens when a magazine of impossibly high standards lets down its guard, for even a moment? It pains me to even say it: Les Garagistes.

It’s true. Like a wine stain on a pristine tablecloth, we’re on the back page of Fine Cooking (Sept/Oct 2010) in a quick Q&A about what we do and why. Luckily, the interview is artfully compiled by Kelly Alexander, a former editor of Saveur and now a freelance food maven, so I’m optimistic that the magazine will survive this indiscretion.

Seriously, though, we’re honored to be featured in such a legendary mag, so if you have a chance to pick up the issue, please do!

For readers new to the winemaking experience, one thing I should point out in advance about the article’s illustration — aside from the fact that in real life, we all still have chins. The friendly cartoon character stomping grapes in a barrel is more about the spirit than the fact of how wine is made. Virtually no one stomps grapes with their feet any more (except as a publicity stunt), and certainly not teetering in a barrel. But our cartoon winemaker certainly captures the giddiness we all feel when the grapes are in, crushed, and safely on their way to (ultimately) a glass near us. Jig-dancin’ and wine drinkin’? Yeah, that’s about right.

As you might imagine, Kelly was given only so much space to expound our epic tale. Luckily, most of what she cut from our hour-long conversation were animal noises and me shouting “holy coulis!” over and over again, but there’s one exchange I’d like to expand back out: what my wife thinks of it all.

FC: How does your wife feel about [wine being made in your basement]?

Giraud: She’s not really into the whole winemaking thing, but she loves all the hubbub and, luckily, the wine that comes out the other end. Plus, for about a month and a half our house is filled with this yeasty, fruity, ambrosial fragrance. But in deference to her, I rearranged our basement so splattering wine doesn’t rain down on our laundry.

There. Now I don’t have to sleep in a fermenter any more.

Thanks again to Kelly, and to the incomparable Susan Davis of North Carolina Public Radio, who pointed Kelly our way. Grab a copy today, and better yet, subscribe!

Here’s some amazing news: while I was out of the country, my design firm‘s packaging overhaul for Les Garagistes was featured by Communication Arts on its website! “CA” (as we grizzled veterans call it) is the design industry’s premier journal, so getting showcased in it is both flattering and humbling. Thank you, CA!

I think this calls for uncorking one o’ them packages in celebration …

[ 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. Read more

Here’s a truly Portland-y thing to put on your calendar: Les Garagistes has been accepted into the Portland Fermentation Festival, which bubbles up this Thursday, August 27th:

6-8 pm
Ecotrust’s Billy Frank Jr. Conference Center
721 NW 9th Ave. Portland, OR
Free!

As you can see from the site, the Ferment Fest isn’t only about wine: it’s about all things that ferment or are fermented in general, like bread, cheese, mead, cider, sauerkraut, kimchi, vinegar, yogurt, and more. In fact, I wasn’t sure whether wine was really something they wanted to sully their fine event, so I asked if our lowly beverage might play a part. To my surprise, they said yes, in part because we ferment with wild yeast.

So James and l will be there pouring our best in tiny little cups. Come by for a shot and say hello.

When they said they wanted to borrow our BMW for something, we had no idea it would end up in the Côte d’Ivoire in so catchy a song.

If all goes according to plan, we’ll be turning 5 different grapes into wine this year. And that’s not even counting the 2-3 seignées I want to make from those grapes, nor the “piquette” (a “second wine” that Garagiste George pioneered last year) I’d like to try from at least one of them. Are our eyes bigger than our gullets? To which I respond, are we not Garagistes? It’s going to be a busy year, and I for one can’t wait to wade out into it.

But because it’ll be just a dozen or so of us staring down this potential tsunami of wine, I’ve been trying to break my usual pattern of wasting the days leading up to harvest simply rubbing my hands together and licking my lips, and instead actually trying to get ready. So I’ve been re-arranging the deck chairs on our Titanic enterprise with even smoother sailing as my goal.

Um… all aboard?

Read more

Marley, 1993-2008. Memories of your humor, nobility, and generosity are drowning me as I write. Thank you for every last one of them.