HALLOWEEN LETTERS

October 31, 2013

By Sophie-Anne Leitner

On the morning of October 31, Martha awoke to piercing, hammering sounds outside her new home in Pittstown, New Jersey, where she moved in April.  She leapt from her bed to see what was going on.

Outside on the far hillside she saw a new massive sign whose single word shimmered in the early light, HALLOWEEN.  This was not a typical sign, like for McDonald’s or something.  It was more like the Hollywood sign.

HALLOWEEN

Each letter of the sign appeared to tell a Halloween story:  the H was two Tootsie Rolls and the A was like a witch, while the L was a black cat and the other L was a Frankenstein.  The O was a pumpkin and the W was a half-devil/half-angel, while the first E was a vampire and the second E was a mummy.  The N was a scary skeleton.

Martha was astonished by this, and she was certain everyone in Pittstown and villages nearby could see the new sign, too.

Later that evening, at precisely 8:27 PM, while the Halloween moon shimmered behind the new Halloween sign, Martha wondered just briefly who built it, no doubt to last.  She walked out into the cold night to trick-or-treat at the farms and village houses down the hill, with the letters sparkling in the distance.

TWO DOWN, ONE TO GO

August 24, 2013

Whoever decided the last third of summer will overlap with the resumption of school and work was very wise.  Why roust us from summer bliss while there’s still a month of sun for play?

Because we need to ease back into the rhythm of reality, be it the school calendar, the end of Q3 in the fiscal year, or the harvest of the entire year’s work.  For some it’s the beginning of a fresh and exciting chapter and for others, sadly, it’s the first step toward winter.

While few had the entire summer off, the rest of us downshifted a little by slipping out of work early on Friday afternoons, savoring the extended twilight, or getting away for a week or two.  I still marvel at the absence of rush hour traffic on a late August Friday. It is part of summer’s magic, after all.

But now with Labor Day just a week away, it’s time to get into a higher gear and ease back to reality.  For a winegrower, it’s also the last month with fingers crossed before the harvest season begins; of letting the ripening grapes hang a little longer for more flavor and aroma in the wine that follows; and savoring the blue sky and warm breeze that blesses Hunterdon County on so many of these late summer days.

SPRINGING INTO SUMMER

June 18, 2013

If this spring, now in its final days, seems wet and cool, it is.  A late killing frost on May 15 and torrents of rain since remind us that Mother Nature is in charge, not the winegrowers.  Humility and persistence are still needed in large equal measure.

Just how wet and cool has it been?  Rather than bore you with statistics like “twice the monthly rainfall” or “85% of target Growing Degree Days”, consider this:  for the first time in nine years of growing grapes on Mount Salem, we have small tree frogs chirping away in the vineyard at night.  Now, that’s impressive.

We will monitor the weather data carefully and adjust in the vineyard as needed, but I’m realizing there’s a silver lining in all these clouds.  Given our ever challenging environment, we are more engaged and vigilant than we otherwise would be, never taking anything for granted, like parents keeping watchful eyes on a sensitive but gifted child.  We know the potential is great, but benign neglect rarely yields excellence.

Speaking of excellence, just last week I caught up with Chef Paul Ingenito over a bottle of our 2012 Traminette here in the farmhouse library.  As always, I was inspired by his passion, creativity, and instincts in the culinary arts.  We hungrily anticipate his return to the Crush Pad and farmhouse kitchen.

Later, while walking the vine rows on a recent morning, I pondered the meaning of summer in June 2013, rendered to this:

  • The thrill and melancholy of school’s last day;
  • The miracle of new grapes, forming before our very eyes;
  • A steely resolve to rebuild lives at the Shore;
  • Real friendships, celebrated with a crisp dry rosé in the afternoon sun; and
  • The endless possibilities, like a youthful romance, somehow possible only in summer.

Come visit soon, before autumn sends its first chill.

VISITOR FROM BORDEAUX

March 21, 2013

The tour of New Jersey wineries by global notables continued last week with Jean-Philippe Roby, professor of viticulture and oenology at the Institute of Vine and Wine Sciences in Bordeaux, France, as well as with the National Agricultural Projects Engineering School, also in Bordeaux.

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Jean-Philippe Roby

His chaperone, Karl Storchmann, from the American Association of Wine Economists, was aiming for South Jersey, where Bordeaux varieties really rock, but Karl admires our wines and knew we grew Cabernet Franc, so he led Jean-Philippe here first.

Our relationship with Cab Franc oscillates from rapture to indifference.  A bottle I bought in 1986 from Tewksbury Wine Cellars revealed to me the potential for winemaking in Hunterdon.  It was good, really good.  Given that, we planted a half-acre of Cab Franc – just in case those exotic Austrians failed – and it’s done exactly what we expected:  consistent, good, and potentially very good red wine.

But once the Austrian bet began paying off, Cab Franc became an afterthought.  Indeed, I decided to rip out the entire half-acre and replant something Austrian.  But subscribers then snapped up the 2010 vintage in a flash, even after we raised the price a couple times.  I was stunned. The vines were granted a stay of execution.

Fast forward to last Friday.

Jean-Philippe tasted our three 2012 Cab Francs from the barrel, and was really pleased with how they each reflect the different vineyards where they were grown.  But it was the bottle of estate 2010 that did him in.  Apparently all you subscribers were right.

He sniffed, swirled and tasted, then repeated the ritual before saying, in French-accented English, “This wine is, elegant.  This, is world-class”.

It is also, regrettably, sold out.  I wish I had another couple of cases, just for myself.

Before leaving, he stopped to barrel taste our 2012 Austrian reds.  He agreed that Zweigelt is the Merlot of Austria, a perfect harmonizer, but was most impressed by the Blaufränkisch:  “This is truly your wine here.”   Thank you, Jean-Philippe.

SPRINGING AHEAD

March 21, 2013

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Snow Drops and Crocus

Like the snow drops and crocus above, defying this morning’s snow, we are ready for spring.  Vines are pruned, first robins and bluebirds are back, and we’re busy racking 2012 wines.  Soon, we will start bottling whites for release in late spring or early summer.

We begin this new vintage year with optimism.  The 2012’s are showing very nicely in the barrel, and tasting feedback from subscribers, friends and critics confirms this.  It’s true we’re always more optimistic in spring, but this year seems more so from the growing confidence in our direction.

Starting our ninth growing season, we know our Austrian focus is the right match for our soil, climate and vineyard site.  I’m often asked why we chose these oddly-named grapes (like Blaufränkisch and Zweigelt) instead of more familiar ones, and usually I say, “The soil and climate here is the same as Austria”.  Well, there’s more to it than that.

We knew that world class wine is produced in Austria, but we also knew that there wasn’t yet a place in the U.S. where its grapes were grown for world class wine.  Just as Napa Valley mirrors Bordeaux with Cabernet Sauvignon, and Willamette Valley mirrors Burgundy with Pinot Noir, could Hunterdon County mirror Burgenland, Austria with Blaufränkisch?

We couldn’t prove it in 2005, but we did a lot of insane things to test our hypothesis.  In fact, we still can’t prove it but the evidence is growing.  Proof will come when there are ten or more wineries in Hunterdon making high quality Blaufränkisch and Zweigelt.  As German wine critic Stuart Pigott wrote after visiting us in December, “This could easily become a happening place”.  Until then, I simply remind myself that no one smirks at Napa Cabernet Sauvignon or Willamette Pinot Noir anymore.