My First Vineyard

[bloodyrosemccoy]

This year Dad’s vineyard produced some actual grapes! It wasn’t a lot (Dad later realized that he technically should not have any grapes, since in the second year you’re supposed to prune ‘em off to give them energy to grow. But hey—grapes!) Over the past few weeks, Dad had been using his refractometer to try to judge the sugar level in the fruits to see when he should harvest. He’d stand around squinting into the thing and screw up his whole face like some sea captain contemplating distant ships.

ME: ARRR, the white whale! Avast, there, matey! Be the grapes ready fer the harrrrvest?
DAD: I have no idea! HOW IS THIS THING SUPPOSED TO WORK WHEN IT’S CLOUDY?

Alfred Hitchcock's The Grapes of Wrath

As it turns out, though, while we might be woefully uncertain of our refractometry, the beady little tetrachromatic eyes of birds seem to be perfect judges thereof.

DAD: I swear, there were a lot more grapes out here yesterday!
ME: Were they standing around just waiting for the sugars to hit critical specific gravity?
MEANWHILE, THE SCRUB JAYS: ALERT! BRAWK, GOD DAMMIT! SOMEBODY IS MESSING WITH OUR GRAPES!
DAD: *looking directly at the cat who is lazily clawing at the landscape boards* You know, when I mentioned bird problems to fellow wine growers, their suggestion was to get a cat.
ME: Yeah, cat! How did you ever get a reputation as a destroyer of ecosystems if all you do is lounge around?
CAT: I’m retired.

OCD Standards

So we’d get the grapes of one of the varieties picked, and we’d take them up to the kitchen to wash them and de-stem them. Since there weren’t a lot, we could do them by hand.

DAD: Some of the winemaking books recommend not washing the grapes.
ME: Is this the same book where one winemaker went into disturbing detail about how stomped grapes are the best because you can make your wife do it and seeing her with juice on her bare thighs is so exciting?
DAD: ... that was one of them.
ME: Let’s just wash the damn grapes.
DAD: Agreed. I don’t want my wine to have a “bug part” finish.
ME: Plus, aren’t we OCD Vineyards? Exactly 500 Grapes Per Bottle, Guaranteed? We have STANDARDS, dangit.

The Crushinator

DAD: Right! All washed and de-stemmed! Fetch the 5-gallon bucket! I shall prepare the Fruit Crusher!
ME: All set!
DAD: You crank the crusher! I shall pour in the grapes! Ready ... set ... GO!
ME: *furious cranking*
DAD: *furious pouring*
FRUIT CRUSHER: FLLLBTHLPT
*pause*
ME: Huh.
DAD: So.
ME: It appears that the Fruit Crusher did not, in fact, crush the fruit.
DAD: I see.
ME: The grapes pretty much fell right through.
DAD: So they did.
ME: Yes.
DAD: Um.
ME: ...
DAD: ...
ME: I’ll get the potato masher!
DAD: I’ll get the turkey mallet!

So we hand-smashed the grapes. I’m not sure why the fruit crusher didn’t work—either the grapes themselves were too small, or there weren’t enough. Something. (The thing’s not a total loss, though. It does a perfect job smashing up tomatoes that can then be cooked down for stellar spaghetti sauce.) But we got it done, and at the end we had ... well, three woefully underfilled 5-gallon buckets. One of Syrah, one of Cabernet, and one of Pinot Noir.

ME: How d’you spell ‘Syrah’?
DAD: S-Y-R-A. --Oh,wait. There’s an H in there somewhere.
ME: Any idea where?
DAD: Nope.
ME: I’ll just stick it somewhere in the middle.
THE LABEL I WROTE: SYRHA 10-4-13

Close enough.

Day's Work Done

And then we sat back before putting the lids on the buckets to admire our handiwork.

DAD: This Cabernet juice is delicious!
ME: Agreed. Shame we’re just going to let it go bad.
DAD: It’s called WINEMAKING, you uncultured wimp. Anyway, what do you think? We’ll get two bottles of Cab out of this, won’t we?
ME: I assume you’re thinking of ketchup bottles.

The next day Dad added the yeast, and we let it ferment for a couple of weeks. And then, lurking ever-present next to the buckets, was the adorable little wine press we were going to try to use next. How were we ever going to deal with that?

Perhaps I’ll show you next time. And perhaps--if you’re lucky--there'll be pictures.

Comments

[black-rider.livejournal.com]

When in doubt, fortify with brandy!

[kelkyag]

<giggles madly>

Shame we’re just going to let it go bad.

Yes. Even moreso about cider, IMO.

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I'm not much for alcohol, but it's fun to see the process!

[shadesofmauve]

LOL, this is great. And your spelling of 'syrah' (also called shiraz, depending on geography) reminds me of classmates writing my name in elementary school. I'd say "Sarah, with an H," and the H ended up all OVER.

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

BWAHAHAHA I remember I knew a few Sarahs-With-An-H and was always amused at where the Hs went. But 'Sarah' was a common enough name that I didn't know how the heck anyone WOULDN'T understand.

Now, 'syrah' is tough because it's an unfamiliar word, and I wasn't up to guessing its origin. I'll just have to remember that it's like 'Sarah.'

[cougarfang.livejournal.com]

Dude, we use this refractometer for urine specific gravity and total serum protein levels (and other fluids, occasionally) in the vet hospital! LOL. We just point them at any bright source of light, which in the hospital usually means the fluorescent ceiling lights.

Also nowadays when I think of fermenting, my reflex follow-up is Moyashimon... >_>;;;

[dark-phoenix54.livejournal.com]

I love your descriptions. I do hope that someday you write a sort of memoir.

[broken-moons.livejournal.com]

Seconded! The Wacky Adventures of Amelia and Dad, I'd read it :D

[stormteller.livejournal.com]

I don't like wine, though I'm fascinated by the process. I've often considered making mead or cider, since those are the only forms of alcohol I can stand, but ultimately it seems like too much work for something that is ultimately rotten fruit juice.

[westrider.livejournal.com]

I always do enjoy your anecdotes about you and your family's adventures :)

[gwalla.livejournal.com]

Que Syrah, sirrah?

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

I did hum that rather a lot while we were doing the Syrah.

[wren-chan.livejournal.com]

*giggles madly* Oh help! ...seriously, shame about letting all that lovely grape juice go bad. XD

[diatryma.livejournal.com]

The boy has made cider this year. It is recognizably cider. Go us?

[deathling.livejournal.com]

Kind of hilarious.
I know people who use an inflatable kiddie pool for their grape stomping....
Maybe next year though.

[padparadscha.livejournal.com]

I had a friend suggest colorful frolicking centaurs. She watches too much Fantasia.