There had been plenty to learn on the first day at the
vineyard, and there was plenty to learn as we moved to the second day’s
activities as well. We started a little
later, too, and I’m sure that helped my keen eye for detail.
The first step is to set up the wine press, which uses an
air-filled blatter to squeeze out all the grape juice. The machine assembles pretty easily – it has
to, since it is taken apart and cleaned between every batch. Some special cheese cloth is used to line the
press, to keep the grapes from exploding out of the small crevices that are
designed for the juice to flow out of.
Each tub goes through this hour-long process, with the
bladder gradually filling to about 70 psi.
Juice flows freely from the press into tubs that collect it; and from
there, is pumped into the tanks in the cellar where it will ferment – Wisteria
often uses steel tanks for the white varieties and oak barrels for the
reds.
One of the risks of using volunteers, and also newbie
volunteers, is the introduction of variation to the process. So I’ve described above a routine that must
be carefully followed so that everything goes smoothly. Except that it didn’t on batch number two.
On that one, the cheese cloth lining wasn’t positioned with
the necessary overlap around the little seal at the front. Eventually, as the pressure climbed when the
bladder inflated…well, I had taken Tessie out for a walk in the vines and wasn’t
around to see this happen, but I understand that there was a shower of crushed
grapes. Fortunately, there weren’t any volunteers
or workers standing in front of that spot – but it was a near miss.
I did see the aftermath, and I was really impressed by the
range and altitude that the spent grapes had achieved – they were up in the ten
foot rafters of the crush pad, and they covered a good twenty feet or so of the
wall, which was eight feet away from the press.
The event left a strong impression on everybody who’d been there for it
– they couldn’t stop talking about it. I
was sorry I missed it.
We learned to break down the press and clean it, and after
this little surprise, we reloaded the partially crushed grapes into the press
to finish the job. Eventually there were
four pressings, counting the malfunction.
After they’re pressed, the spent grapes are removed from the
press. In this condition, they are
mortared together and can stand on their own in a shape called “the cake.” It has a very interesting texture and
actually takes a bit of work to dispose of – we dumped the grapes into the
bucket of Moussa’s tractor, where it was hauled off to the compost heap.
I did take a couple of handfuls and toss them to the
chickens.
With the juice collected and moved over to ferment in the
cellar, the work on the Seyval harvest was done. I have some other material that I have
collected about the experience that I will put up over the next few days, but
this series has pretty much outlined the front end of the annual winemaking
process – the harvest.
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