When Grandpa’s advice comes into play...
It's spring at Napeequa. Time to bottle. But before bottling (or as I call it "elegant canning") blending must be executed. Many of you have heard of it. Putting the finishing touch to a wine before it's sealed behind the cork. Getting the parts and pieces to match up.
Most of what we drink from the world of wine has been blended. From the vineyard we get differences just feet away from one block to another of the same varietal. Variations in hang time, canopy management, row direction, watering regimes, shoot and green thinning all offer subtle nuances to the flavors of the same grape. In the cellar, different yeasts, fermentation temperatures, oak barrels and racking all contribute different flavor profiles to a wine.
The last chance at managing the way a wine will turn out (and greet you in the glass) is at blending. What is it? Well, it's part chemistry, part psychology. The latter, uncovering weakness and strengths in different lots of wine and figuring out how to "build" a wine that hits on all cylinders. I guess Fantasy Footballers know this when they build a team. You build on positioning strengths and weaknesses to finally have a winning collaborative force.
Wine is such a force. But what makes wine interesting (and pleasing) is balance. That experience when aroma, fruit, mouth-feel and finish are in harmony. To me, its when you can't put the glass down. The wine calls out for another go at your pallet. I call it the "Ah Factor".
Each barrel of finished wine has strengths and weaknesses. So at blending, each barrel is tasted or "interviewed". The wine's attributes are assessed and recorded. What's the nose like? The fruit in the mouth, the weight of it, the finish? Did the finish complete with harmony, respecting what the aroma and mouth-feel offered? In cooking, every great recipe always ends with that wriggle-room comment, "season to taste". The amount of wine from certain lots, barrels and varietals is that "season to taste" process in blending.
Then there is your loving Grandpa. "Don't fix it if it ain't broken!" and Hippocrates, "Do no harm". Knowing when not to tamper, to realize that what you started with doesn't necessarily need intervention is as important to the final wine as is getting busy with the pipettes and graduated cylinders. But, oh how the temptation to tinker lurks and prods. To fuss and fiddle in the hope of unlocking a mysterious combination that will wow and dazzle the masses. Podiums, acceptance speeches, applause, a 94 from Harvey Steinman. Whatever. The point is, sometimes doing the most is not doing much.
Our 2007 Cabernet Franc didn't need much. The more I tried to tweak, the more it hid in its shell. A wine so pretty, so fragrant, Coco Channel would have given it a number. However, like a Scion B, it was all clad, no chassis, no horsepower. So I looked to our Merlot. Round and lush but subdued and if I could, almost aloof. A very lovely wine however, it was oaked, where the Cab Franc was not (well, neutral barrels for those keeping score). When all was said and done, it only took a handful of gallons of Merlot to prop it up and give it stature. The cologne-esque quality of the Cab Franc remained intact. Just a nudge was needed. Like tailoring a suit, a tuck here and lengthening there and presto... a beautiful wine.
Once the corks slam home on this process in a few weeks, it will be all over, except for the shouting. That will come when it's released!
David
