WEEK ONE (Sept 7-13):
What a week it has been! St. Vincent (patron saint of the vineyards) has granted us a smooth beginning to our harvest thus far. Everyone’s back in Beaune and there’s such a buzz in the air – this time of year is what this town lives and breathes for. Tuesday night I could feel the anticipation in the air.
Monday: Prep Day
Every piece of equipment needed to be brought out, put in its place, scrubbed down and hosed. The cuverie floor got a good washin’, needless to say. Gav, Jane and I picked up those raclettes (squeegee, en Français) for the first time.
It was a long day, lots of water, lots of racletting – slowly building the muscles and learning the techniques of efficiency. We also got a lesson on how to clean the caisses de vendange (grape cases). We have probably around 200 cases and we wash them all at least once, sometimes twice a day.
Tuesday: Let the Games Begin…please?!
We arrived at 7:30 and got straight to work. We prepared the cuverie for the grapes to arrive and waited.. impatiently. About 9:00 the trucks start rollin’ in, white grapes only for the first couple of days. Here’s the deal: We unload the crates of grapes from the trucks and place (pull, tug, struggle) them onto palates 5x5x5. They are lifted by diesel-powered forklift up to the doors of
the cuverie and situated until sorting. The grapes are then poured into a machine that throws them into the press. We call this guy snuffalaffagus, l’elephante or Tutu. He is massive, strapping and tall. As he’s crankin’ along, I stand á la gauche and pick out the leaves and ill-looking bunches.I had a bit of a physical burp today – with the combination of new work boots, little sleep, lots of time on my feet and the hike on Sunday, I pushed my body a little too far. Last semester (due to flat shoes and high arches) I got achilles tendonitis and had a pinched sciatic nerve for 6 weeks. It was like déja vu and the idea of being out of the count on the first day gave me
significant anxiety. The pain started with my feet, moving into my achilles and nerve. The nerve pain moved up my leg pretty quickly and went into my lower back, immobilizing me on Alex’s office floor for 2.5 hours. I ended up taking a pousse de roupoillon (catnap) and woke up, feeling 85% better, just in time for the kick-off diner.Our chefs Stacia and Henri are a wonderfully bubbly couple from the States. Henri, savory; Stacia, sweet. They’re a well-oiled machine and certainly have the experience and knowledge of cooking for hungry harvesters. Henri retired from dentistry and took a chef training course and can cook up fabulous and aesthetic dinner delights. Stacia is probably one of the best bakers I’ve ever encountered, next to my sister, Ruth Shore, of course!
At dinner Alex gave his annual “sermon on the mount” speech about expectations, rules and the
purpose and meaning of our work with him. “When you have nothing else to do, grab a raclette!” he exclaimed surprisingly seriously. (Little did I know that this was my future go-to post in the cuverie).We also started the traditional dinner guessing game. Essentially, every night a person at the table brings wine and it is cleverly hidden in one of Cara’s handmade bags designed for this game. They start out by asking: Old World or New World? European wines are considered old world and new world can be from a variety of different places (US, NZ, Australia, S. America…etc) but are usually fruitier, and done up with chemicals, sulfur, enzymes and the works. Henri, like myself, find it particularly hard to guess more than this step. So, every night they refer to Henri and he shouts the answer “Old World!” (Seeing as we’re in Burgundy and there are over 200 different wines in this one region, they’re usually
burgundian old world wines.) Then the question is raised: Côte de Beaune or Côte de Nuit? From there we guess which Appellation, year and winemaker! It is truly fascinating for me to watch! Every person at the table has their own opinion based singularly on the taste of the wine!Wednesday: Iced, Stretched and Ready To GO!
Arriving again at 7:30 it was coffee and croissants for breakfast. Coffee, bread and water are a very large and serious part of every year’s budget. I’ve taken to stretching my achilles at least four times a day and icing it each night. More white grapes came in today:
Puligny-Montrachet and Bourgogne Chardonnay Les Grands Terres grapes mostly. Prepare for grapes, get grapes, sort grapes, press grapes, clean, transfer grapes to tank, clean, get more grapes, sort…..etc.Everyday post-déjeuner (lunch) we have a warm baked snack. Today was chocolate chip cookies :) Tonight the dinner was Italian themed. Henri and Stacia started with a fresh, Gambal-grown, tomato salade then served delicious RABBIT bolognese. Ummmm humm!
It was a late night because the press didn’t get going until around 10pm. It takes about two hours to press the grapes fully. Gav, Jane and I left at 11:30 because we live across town; the crew staying on the domaine stayed in the cuverie til 1:30am!
Thursday: Le Poulet Smackdown!
Much of the same stuff: we received Maltroie and Chassagne Blanchots white grapes and, hey! Somethin’ different: Volany Chevret red grapes.
The process for red grapes is a tad bit different and a-lotta bit tedious. For this process we must bust out even more equipment: a sorting table and a destemer.
The process is much more picky because the red grapes go straight into the tank and not through a press. I can’t help but marvel at the fact that my supervision is key to this wine.
Little unripe grapes have too much acidity and rotten grapes too much sugar. The odium, petritius and other diseases/molds produce flavors that you can taste years and years after the wine is made.
Tonight was the Battail Du Poulet: The Poulet Smackdown! John and Denis (both close friends of Alex’s and own the houses in the courtyard connected to the winery) decided they wanted to have a chicken (poulet) cook-off to see if they could tell the difference between Bresse chicken and regular store bought chicken. Bresse chicken is one of France’s traditional chicken breeds, known for it spectacular taste and pricey pricey cost (essentially free range). They were both cooked with rosemary and in the oven for the same amount of time. The game was for the eaters: which chicken was what?! AND there were prizes! The prizes were to those with the most creative description of the chicken. We were given official judge sheets.
Jane and I tied for first; Jane’s read: Poulet A tastes like chicken. Poulet B tastes like REALLY GOOD chicken, 5x better than A :)
Mine read: Poluet A: I can imagine this chicken running freely, eating what he likes and he died happy! Chewy, lean. Poulet B: softer, melts in my mouth. Less tastey, more pleasurable to toss around on my tongue;
Cara came in close second with her IPB index: Poulet A dense texture, persistent flavor, greater Intensity Per Bite!
In the end Poulet A was the Bresse chicken – everyone could tell. But when we voted for favorite, the table was split right down the middle. The first place price was the feet of the chicken. We were told to hold out our hands and close our eyes- have you ever held a chicken leg before?! It’s definitely not what I expected.
WEEK TWO (Sept 14-20):
Monday: Work, Work, Work, Stretch
The stagieres also got to do some picking at Volnay (?). At one point I realized that I'd missed a bunch so I completely stretched out on the ground on my side to retrive it. Lying there, I took a moment; the earth was perfectly moist. I was deep in the vines, like being surounded by mini corn stalks. The soil was only damp from the morning dew and was sturdy and significant enough to not be mushy or muddy under my weight. I lied there and looked at the sky. There were those big French clouds again. Not a tought passed through my mind. My body was so exhausted from the physical work and little sleep that in that moment it was as if I had suddenly opened my eyes in the middle of a deep meditation. The muscle pain was gone, my thoughts erased and I was surrounded by grape vines.
That night at dinner Gav contributed a Pesquera "Janis" 1994 Ribera del Duero for the blind tasting game. John took the idea, ran down to his cellar, and raised him a Pesquera 1989! Everyone was surprised to hear that that bottle was my vintage birthday year. The next morning, Henry had kindly gone through the effort of saving the label for me. What a gift.
By now my hands are swollen from the picking, triage and heavy lifting. haha and by now, with all of this delicious food, I feel as if my whole body is swollen. :)
Tuesday: The day with Alex
Today Alex asked us to be at work promptly at 7. Today is the day that winemakers and negotiants line up for some of Rapet Pere et Fils’ sweet juice. The first year, Alex only got one barrel; he remembers asking the others “didn’t you learn how to share in elementary school?!” Alex has been persistent and now talks and is good buddies with Rapet’s son. He’s sure to be the first in line each year – arriving at 7:45 no later. We showed up ten minutes late and were second in line.
Actually, a lot of people grow their own grapes and process their own juice. Then, like at Rapet’s, sell the juice to winemakers to work their magic and call it their own. Rapet even gave us a bottle of wine; “now that’s what I call customer satisfaction!” Jane exclaimed.
After a van exchange with Matt and Will, we were off to Clos Vougeot to check on our grapes. They were beautiful ~ we ended up with about 40 caisses des raisins!
We also went by the Boisset cuverie so that Alex could talk about the grapes he was getting from
them. In 1961, at the age of 18, Jean-Claude Boisset started buying his first appellations and reselling them to aquantances. Boisset cleverly skirted around government size and tax regualtions by joining a family of close aquantances, all making wine under one roof. He developed a kind of wine autarky and now owns is the biggest wine operation in Burgundy.
Wednesday-Friday: It’s all about the same for the end of the week. The weather turned: cold, rainy and clouds. It was usually just overnight rain which ended up being alright for the grapes and because it wasn’t hot and humid, there was less rot than expected. Alex wanted to have all of the grapes in by Friday but the pickers at St. Aubin Dent de Chien (Premiere Cru) were tired and slow (couldn’t blame them, 2.5 wks of pure picking would get to me too). The other three stagaires, “student interns,” Jane, Gav, Jonathon (il es fraçais), and I were sent to pick the remaining Dent de Chien Saturday afternoon. Four hours and 16 caisses later and we’re finally done. Boy does that do a number on your lower back so I often kneeled or sat.
Friday night we had our petit parlée, the end of the harvest celebration. Denis had fireworks for the occasion and recruited Gav to help him shoot them out his laundry room window. Maybe 7 of 13 made it into the air, while the other 6 went all which ways, including the side of his house and the work van! John had us down to his lovely cellar post fireworks for some exquisite wines.
That's a lot to process for now. Another to come tomorrow! I'm finally well rested and able to get to the computer. More to come on the weekend and the beginning of WEEK THREE here at Chez Alex Gambal
No comments:
Post a Comment