It’s yet another blustery rainy spring day with deep cloud cover and the sun extending its vacation. I’ve returned to the winery to have a look at the 2013 reds. They have been maturing in 225 liter French barriques, for about four months and are ready for their first real racking.
It is breezy here in the open shed but welcome shelter from the rain slanting off into the gray green vines. I’ve shed my ubiquitous fleece for the comfort of a cozy sweater and my cold rubber boots for my seasoned blunnies. I’m outdoors, yet indoors, and today it’s a relief. I’m excited to have the chance to taste the developing wines – the last time I’ve actually scrutinized them was at the end of malolactic fermentation several months ago.
Today we are racking, or decanting the wine off of the lees, in order to clarify the wine. The process removes whatever sediments have settled on the bottom, which not only reduces its cloudiness but also lessens the chance of the wine developing “off” flavors, which sometimes arise from contact with those solids. Racking also enhances aromas and softens tannins, and hastens the progression of maturation by giving the wine a touch of oxygen.
Bucket of Lees
We begin with the 2013 Malbec, siphoning a taste into a glass with a “wine thief”, a hand-operated glass pipette. The color is a magnificent purple. I swirl and sniff and am brought into a fresh world of bright raspberry and black cherry with hints of saddle leather and mocha. It’s already showing some age and finesse. The next barrel brings a similar profile. Both of these barrels are older ones we’ve reused. But the next barrel is new and the tannin hit is far from subtle. I taste the fruit as well as cedar cigar box and some tar and I’m wondering if we’ve overpowered the wine. My skies are clouding over. The fourth and final barrel is also somewhat grippy, but in a more supple way and the fruit is still there and the acid is phenomenal. But the previous barrel has got me flummoxed.
Barrel by barrel we rack off the wine into a freshly scrubbed steel tank where their contents mix together. Each barrel is rolled so that the bunghole faces down and the lees drain out in purple splendor into a bucket. I insert a barrel washer attached to the power wash unit into each overturned barrel to give it a rinse. A tremendous bass whoosh, “see ehhh waaaaa sssshhhhaaaa“, is followed by a brilliant flush of purple bursting out onto the floor. It looks like a reverse geyser. In two minutes the water is running clear.
Power Washing
I right each barrel and notice veils of steam rising up through the bunghole. I have a sniff and smell wine and waterfalls in the forest. A sample of the mixed wine goes off to the lab to check sulfur levels. And while the alcohol burner heats it up, I sample the mixed wine.
The wine is clear and purple and smells profound. The taste is rich as if it’s magically drawn on all the best parts of its components. The tannic new barrel taste is absolutely gone, now providing a delicious baseline to a scrumptious chorale. It is clear that the combined wine has a depth and a structure greater than the sum of its various parts.
The wine is returned to barrel and each barrel is carefully topped up, an exercise that tests my reflexes. The object is to stop the wine flow just as it reaches the top. Any later and the wine spills. Needless to say, I’m not particularly skilled at it and I end up tipping more than a bottle's worth onto the floor. The stretch is judging the headspace near the top of the curved barrel in low light. My hands are purple and my clothes are splashed and the barrels are sporting splotchy stains. Next time I’ll bring a torch.