Monday 11 February 2019

Cover crops and companion plants

A vineyard with cover crop between rows.

My last post dealt with underground fungi that form symbiotic relationships with grapevines. Today, I'm investigating cover crops and companion plants that can be grown with the vines to help promote healthy soil structure and nutrient exchange and perhaps even protect against insects and disease. Cover crops have been used for millennia and are becoming more popular again with the advent of organic farming and the desire to reduce the use of pesticides and herbicides.

Saturday 9 February 2019

Grapevines in partnership with fungi



I've been reading a fascinating book called Mycophilia by food writer and cookbook author Eugenia Bone. She stoked my interest in everything mushroom. I have been most interested in the symbiotic relationship between underground mycorrhizal fungi and photosynthetic plants above ground. Some fungi serve to remove and clean-up diseased and dying plants. Others have symbiotic relationships with specific plants they tend to. Their root systems get intertwined, the plants delivering sugars to the fungi, the fungi extracting minerals from the soil and delivering them to the roots of plants.

Monday 4 February 2019

New vines have arrived


The new vines have arrived for phase 3 of our planting. The first year there were ten, the second year there were 65. Now we are adding another 66 vines. Of those, 25 are Pinot Noir and 25 Albariño, and 16 Chardonnay, all on SO4 rootstocks.. How we're going to manage them is another discussion.

Of course, while in Alexandria for three weeks, I learned that Viognier vines are commonly planted in Virginia. Viognier — the state grape of Virginia — is a wine made by 76 of the commonwealth’s 230 vineyards as of 2012. In May 2011, the Virginia Wine Board approved the marketing of Viognier as “Virginia’s signature grape,” just as Cabernet Sauvignon is identified with California’s Napa Valley and Pinot Noir with Oregon.

Viogner, that rare French wine that we discovered in St. Martin and brought home cases of it on our boat. In the mid-1960s, a mere 3.2 acres of vines existed in the entire world. It does extremely well in Virginia and is considered quite possibly the best Viognier made outside of Condrieu — home to the Viognier grape in the white-wine capital of the Rhône valley. Alas, as Viognier vines start to hit their peak after 20 years, I don't think we'll be planting many here in Ireland but if Virginia's young vines (mostly <10 years old) are doing so well, you never know. Stick with what you like, right? And we do like Viognier. 

Sunday 3 February 2019

Ullage

Aged Margaux wines showing various levels of ullage. Photo courtesy of Wikimedia. 

Trevor Sharot of Grapedeal.com wrote a lovely note in his blog about our effort to grow wine grapes in the west of Ireland. In it, he introduced the concept of ullage. Like the Angel's share in whiskey, this is the empty space in a bottle of wine between the cork and the wine. While tasting whiskies in Islay one year, I learned about the Angel's Share and thought about my sister who died many years ago now. She had introduced me to Scotch whisky and particularly to Laphroaig where I first heard the term ullage. At the time, I thought Angel's Share was quite appropriate a description as I knew my sister in heaven was partaking of her fair share. But I digress...

ullage

Terms used for fill levels or ullage for Bordeaux-shaped wine bottles.
Illustration by Kassander der Minoer

Dictionary result for ullage

/ˈʌlɪdʒ/
noun
  1. the amount by which a container falls short of being full.
    • loss of liquid, by evaporation or leakage.


In my subsequent search for insights into ullage, I came upon a delightful post by John Howe, 'On the fine art of empty space'. I gave myself permission to read it despite falling desperately behind in catching up after three weeks away in America tending to newborn, two-year-old, recovering mom and sleep-deprived dad. I won't spend much time on it here except that I was thrilled to read another word I hadn't heard in years is his 'onomatopoeic' description of popping corks. The definition, in John's words, 'Ullage describes essentially emptiness contained' spoke to me. It relieved me to know that the emptiness was contained, and I didn't have to worry about it anymore.