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. 

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. 

Brain stimulation via wine tasting

Okay, here's a mind-bending theory.  To keep your brain super active, taste wine. That's right. According to an article in Food & Wine, wine stimulates more of your brain than any other activity. Not sure how they measured 'any other activity', but hey, I can subscribe to that theory. After all, it's proposed by a Yale neuroscientist. He must know what he's talking about. We'll just have to attempt to prove or disprove it. Very scientific.

The new layout

As the Solaris is doing well, we should have a grape crop in 2019 with which to attempt winemaking. The Rondo is also doing well but not as well as the Solaris. We should also have some red to experiment with. The Chardonnay did well enough to consider expanding production in the future.

We've decided to introduce Albarino, our favorite white wine from the coastal Rias of  northwestern Spain. So Albarino and Solaris will be our white wine crops.

Alex wanted more red, so we will introduce Pinot noir, a short season grapevine with growing requirements in the same range as Chardonnay. That will be our new experimental crop.

We, therefore, will have three experimental and two staple crops.  It's amazing how fast five years can go by.

Pruning into the New Year

After the pruning

Alex pruning the Rondo vines

I'll be staying with my niece in January to help out after the birth of her second child so we took the opportunity to prune the vines today. It was a fine dry day and mild, too. We've had a high pressure centered over Ireland for about a week now and it's been very gray but dry and uncharacteristically mild. The weeks before were drenched by torrential rains. The land was flooded all around us. Lucky for us, our land is sloping. The roses have not ceased blooming, the grass is growing and many plants are budding due to the mild weather. We may even have a New Year's daffodil. I was worried that the grapevines might not be dormant, but they did seem to be.

The Rondo and Solaris vines are doing well and are quite robust except one Rondo. They took severe pruning. The chardonnay vines are looking very nice and were easy to prune and stake.

The one-year-old Solaris vines were very easy to prune. Two of the 50 had been cut by the strimmer when Alex last cut the grass. Two others looked possibly dead. One was missing. So Alex will order five to replace those. The vines were inconsistent in growth. Some were quite long while others remained very small. Could be due to the dry summer.

We've decided to complete the row that has the chardonnay test vines with more test vines. Alex wants red, but I don't want Rondo, so we're looking for short season reds to try. My money is on Pinot Noir, but we'll see. He has also ordered Albariño vines to plant on another section of field. The plantation expands.

Another season comes to a close. Happy New Year to all.




From GuildSomm 

Woohoo, Taittinger has bought land in England.

Taittinger have expanded production to some 6,000,000 bottles and bought land in England to cope with a warming world. I think we're onto something here.

This winter is really much warmer and wetter here. I'm afraid that the grape vines, which I have not yet pruned, will come alive and won't be exposed to the necessary cold. I'm planning to prune between Christmas and New Year. But so many plants have started growing again, including the grass. It has rained unrelentingly for weeks. This week is the first decent weather we've had in recent memory.

Any way, Champagne is a blend of chardonnay and pinot varieties. We woudn't be able to call it champagne but who cares. Prosecco is doing just fine. Let's invent a new bubbly name. Hmmmm.

Happy Christmas to all. I'll try to post again soon on progress with pruning.

https://www.bloomberg.com/news/features/2018-12-22/taittinger-champagne-in-photos

Another season comes to a close

I walked up to the vineyard today to find that the Rondo vines have dropped their leaves, every one. The Solaris are still hanging on to a few but a good many have fallen there, too. And so another season has come to a close and we've learned a lot more this year than in previous years. I'll spend the winter learning about making wine and testing soil. We'll also plant out the roses and companion 'Gaia garden' plants. Then, while Alex erects the canopy stands, I'll prune the canes - all 65 - in the dead of winter. For right now, I'll take pause to just revel in the art of nature and the awe of cyclical seasons. Aren't we lucky? There's nothing boring about it.

Autumn in the Vineyard

The red grape vines have turned a lovely orange hue, the whites are turning golden. We had a spell of awful weather, including Storm Callum which wasn't as bad as it could have been, followed by several days of glorious sunshine. The leaves have been blown off the trees or burned by wind beyond hope. But the grape leaves are surviving well. As are the donkeys. Sweet donkeys keeping watch. No one got blown away by the storms.

What to do instead of harvesting

In place of a harvest in this unproductive year, I'll start a new workout routine...

Gone grapes

One of two bunches harvested 

We had nasty weather this week. Wet and windy. The day before we had grapes. The day after we did not.

I had just noted that vintners in England were beginning to harvest and decided the day after the storm we would, too. It seems the birds were hungry during the bad weather and they partook of our grapes which happened to ripen at exactly the wrong time. There are literally about 5 grapes left. Everything else is denuded.

Lesson 1: use netting.
Lesson 2: harvest when you think the grapes are reaching ready
Lesson 3: buy a bottle of wine from Lidl.

A fellow grapist

I received a lovely note from Trevor Sharot who has planted some grapevines and is growing grapes in London. For some reason, he is making the wine in Singapore. Can't wait to hear about that. A kindred spirit who has embarked on a similarly preposterous (or not) journey. His blog is all about wine. His decisions are based on careful scrutiny and thought, as well as travel schedules and the like. I feel from his writing about wines and the experiment that he is having great fun. And his first harvest. How interesting. 

He writes poetry about wine for the holidays.  He may be a winocerous, someone who delights in trying to recognise a wine just from its aroma. And he's been following this blog.

It's interesting to know that we are not alone in the universe. Somehow, humans come up with random ideas in unison. Here's to Trevor and his first two bottles of wine. I can't wait to hear what he thinks. 

New phobia discovered in our vineyard

Weather statistics for Clew Bay, Ireland vs Galicia, Spain

I found a great Norwegian website YR.no that provides weather forecasting and climate statistics for the world. I wanted to compare the climate of the Albarino wine growing region of Galicia with the new wine growing region of Clew Bay. :-) I couldn't find Combados but Combarro gave me a set of statistics for average temperatures and rainfall over a twelve month period for Pontevedra. Similarly, when searching for Clew Bay, I got Belmullet data which is not really us but it was closer and more relevant than Claremorris. Claremorris does, however, come in a couple of degrees warmer than Belmullet, which is out on the Atlantic seaboard, and temperature wise is probably more like us here in Kilmeena. Our average temperature reaches only 15C while their's gets to 20C.

Storms in September

This week, we had the remnants of an Atlantic Hurricane, Helene, pass through followed closely by the first named storm of the season, Ali, and the threat of two more storms on the horizon. Helene fizzled. But Ali intensified. It was to abate by about 11 am but by 4 pm it was still raging. Status orange alert did not prepare anyone for the 80 mph winds with higher gusts. The Ploughing Championships were cancelled, as were many flights.

Our orchard suffered carnage. Our grapes swelled from all the rain and the white grapes turned brown and spotted indicating a fungal infection. Bugger.

Okay, so maybe growing grapes in Ireland with climate change won't work. Certainly the mild summer was helpful but the increase in the frequency of storms and their intensity could be our nemesis. Hmm. Might have to rethink this.

Does anyone have any good recipes for preserving pears?

Knowing when to pick grapes

Here we are in late August and the red grapes have started turning red. I've been tasting one every few days to get the hang of it, but they are still quite sour. Grapes generally ripen between late August and late October, depending on the variety. As they will not ripen any further once they have been picked from the vine, they need to be picked only when they are ripe. This can be tricky. In cooler climates it can take longer to get to the required sweetness. We are keeping an eye on bird activity in the vineyard as the birds are always first in line for sweet fruit. We expect to receive an alert from Mother Nature that the grapes are ripe.

Westernmost vineyard in Europe

Casal Santa Maria vineyards in Portugal

We wanted to claim the title of the westernmost vineyard in Europe given that we're the only vineyard we know of on the west coast of Ireland or Scotland. But we were recently reminded that the Azores are part of Europe and so are the Madeiras. There goes that claim. Their vino verde and fortified port and Madeira wines qualify for that claim. Oh well. We'll find another accolade to usurp. Perhaps Westernmost Vineyard in Continental Europe?

Controlling the fungus among us

Image from Wikimedia Commons

We have always wondered why there are rose bushes planted at the ends of rows in vineyards. Now that we have a vineyard, it prompted us to look into it. And what we learned makes sense. Roses and grapes are both susceptible to some of the same fungal diseases, namely powdery mildew and downy mildew. Roses, in fact, act as an early warning signal for mildew. They help the vintner catch the diseases at an early stage so proper treatment can be applied. In other words, they help to control the fungus among us. I also came across a curious alt truth story from Australia.

About Albariño

Most Vitis vinifera cultivars are hardy in Zones 6 or 7, meaning healthy vines can survive temperatures from zero to minus 10°F. The European Union has grouped wine production not by hardiness but by three major categories: A, B and C with C subdivided into four subregions. Zone A is the coldest and it's where Ireland would fall into. Zone C is the warmest and C I and C II is where northern Spain fits.

The orchard below the vineyard

The orchard is doing well, too. For the first time this year, we have fruit on every tree. We missed the cherries and gooseberries, but we have apples, crabapples, pears, and plums. The peach tree died last year.