The surface of Earth is more fluid than we often dare to admit. But this dynamic nature of the earth is masked by the constants of the ocean's power. Water bodies hide their history through dispersion: evidence of an event will be pulverized to the molecule and spread to all the oceans on the currents. But on land the years build up, secrets fossilize, and a slice of soil is a photograph of millions of years of soil history. Seas and waterways flood, merge or evaporate leaving their tattoos upon the landscape in layers of mineral lace. When a sea dries up on land, it leaves a trace of itself-- its memory-- behind. 

Plant roots can access this elemental memory and the flavor of their fruit can be changed because of the unique aspects of the soil's chemistry. The earliest known fermented grape products fermented into wine were harvested from riverbanks in China. Today, many of what are colloquially considered to be the world's greatest wines are grown on ancient sea beds. 

In this article for the "Wine and the Sea" symposium, I take a look at the geologic skeletons of several ancient seas-- long dried up-- that have given us some of our most revered wine-growing regions. 

Chablis (France)

Chablis is perhaps the most famous of the regions with seabed soils. 150 million years ago in the Jurassic era, a sea blanketed this region and millions of oysters thrived in the water. The ensuing ice age changed the landscape, but it left behind a dried up bed of fossilized seashells. In 1923 when Chablis was officially named a wine AOC in France, the Kimmeridgian soils were the reason for creating a special designation for the wines of Chablis. Outcroppings of Kimmerigian soils appear in this area of the world in what geologists refer to as an 'island chain.' These islands aren't surround by water though-- they are surrounded by differing soil types (Wilson 1998:244-247). Chablis is the largest of 'islands' in this chain; Aube (Champagne) lies close by; and there is even an outcropping in the UK. The outcroppings of Kimmeridgian soils were carved out when glaciers after the last ice age scraped through layers of geologic history . 

Chablis is commonly linked with the ocean in the world of wine writing, and rightfully so. The classic pairing is oysters. The most memorable food and wine pairing I have ever had was a sip of Grand Cru Chablis with a bite of caviar-- it was magic! 

Bordeaux

In the 1400s, piracy plagued the wine trade between Bordeaux and Britain. After attaining permits, merchant ships from Britain would be robbed of their wares on the Gironde (James 1971:44-47). Bordeaux was a prize to be protected by France and won by Britain. But why was/is Bordeaux so desirable?

We can thank an ancient frozen sea for Bordeaux's unique soil structure. A glacier scraped the original path for the Gironde River and pushed heavy gravel stones up to the Left Bank, and depositing several outroppings in Graves. These gravely regions make the most desired wine in the Graves (Brook 1992:79). The fine wines of Graves helped to put Bordeaux on the map, and winemaking there dates back quite some time. 

Once a wetland, the marshes of Bordeaux's left bank were drained by Dutch traders in the 1700s, and thus revealed one of the most famous terroirs in existence (Lewin: 2009:71). The channels that keep the land drained into the river are meticulously well-kept (Ginestet 1984:32). Producers on the Left Bank used new technologies to distinguish themselves. In the Medoc, early producers tasted merchants on barrel samples, and embraced the now ubiquitous bottle/cork technology; because of their new way of trading, these left bank producers were able to distinguish themselves and establish good markets in Britain (Pellechia 2006:125). Unwittingly, they helped set the stage for modern wine markets. 

Western Interior Seaway and Washington State Wines (USA)

The midwest was once a massive, shallow waterway, heavily populated with algeas, sea life, ancient birds, and water dinosaurs. It was also the home of the giant clam-- the world's largest bivalve that grew to such largeness because it needed bigger gills to survive in the muddy banks of the Western Interior Seaway. When tectonic plate movement caused changes on the western edges of the seaway, the waterway broke out from the Rocky Mountains and partially drained into the Pacific Ocean through what is modern day Washington State. 

In this great flood, sea waters broke off huge chunks of the Rockies and deposited them along their course. They also carried boulders and smaller trace minerals that blanketed Washington State. Predecessors of the horse roamed wild in this region, and when the floods came the horses ran to a higher ground to survive. "Horse Heaven Hills" is a major hotbed for paleantologists studying fossils of the ancient horse. 

Today, some of the most interesting syrahs and mourvedres come from the Horse Heaven Hills AVA in Washington State. The unique hodgepodge geology coupled with the strata of many synclines yields some of the most interesting soil chemistry in the world. Though long gone, the Western Interior Seaway still leaves its imprints upon out wines. 

Waitaki Valley (New Zealand)

Waitaki Valley, on the west coast of New Zealand's south island, once lay submerged under the waves, but was thrust up from the ocean depths due to tectonic plate movement. The Maori creation legend is quite close to geologic reality-- Maori pulls up a part of New Zealand from the ocean while on a fishing journey (skip to 2:20 to see the animated version of this legend): 

The imagery of Maori 'catching' the island and bringing it up is interestingly close to what happened. On the east side of the south island, closer to the west coast, the heat from tectonic friction caused the soils to melt and morph into chemically different soils. Central Otago is famous for this kind of metamorphic rock, predominantly schist and quartz. But on the east side in Waitaki, temperatures didn't rise quite so high, and here we find preserved raised sea beds. Walking through the hills you can reach down and find fossilized seashells. 

Waitaki is a relatively new wine region in New Zealand-- there is no mention of it in the 2002 Wine Atlas of New Zealand. With a commercial planting history that goes back just a decade or so, the few wines coming from here exhibit a remarkable personality, similar to the mineral-driven, steely, ocean air characteristics that you find in Chablis. 

Catalonia (Spain)

Throughout Catalonia you can find pockets of ancient seabeds-- a perfect growing area for high acid sparkling wines! 

These ancient sands date back millions of years. The Mediterranean Sea was once a part of ocean waterways, but was closed off from the oceans about 5.6 million years ago. The Mediterranean almost dried up, but crust movement caused this basin to fill up again with waters coming in from the Atlantic Ocean. The Straight of Gibraltar keeps this sea in contact with the Atlantic. 

This has just been a small overview of some of the most popular sea-bed areas; similar wine regions are plentiful throughout the world. What drives our desire for wine from ancient seabeds? Clearly there are scientific connections between soil chemistry and vine growth. But to look at it from a more poetic perspective: in a balanced take on reincarnation, our world's dead seas are reborn as some of our most vibrant wines.

Symposium: Wine and the Sea 
To see all articles in this symposium with the topic of 'Wine and the Sea':

Aaron Nix-Gomez The Cultivation of the Vine in England and the East India Company’s Concern for Wine 1600-1630

Adam Zolkover Madeira, Wine, and The Sea

Dorit Handrus Wine and The Sea 

Erin Scala Wine and the Sea: Aphrodite Rising

Frank Morgan Wine and the Sea: Consider the Oyster

Graham Harding ‘On the scale from riches to ruin’: the cargo of champagne in R.L.Stevenson’s Ebb-Tide

*please consider joining us in our symposium! We release quarterly topics and invite scholarly participation. 

Bibliography

Brook, Stephen. (1992) Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon. London: Viking. 

Coates, Clive. (2008) The Wines of Burgundy. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. 

Cooper, Michael. (2002) The Wine Atlas of New Zealand. Auckland: Hodder Moa Beckett. 

Ginestet, Bernard. (1984) The Wines of France: Saint Julien. NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. 

James, Margery K. (1971) Studies in the Medieval Wine Trade. Oxford: Clarendon Press. 

Lewin, Benjamin. (2009) What Price Bordeaux? Dover: Vendange Press. 

McGovern, Patrick E. (2009) Uncorking the Past: The Quest for Wine, Beer, and Other Alcoholic Beverages. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California. 

McInerney, James. (2010) 'The Ocean in a Glass' The Wall Street Journal. 24 April 2010. 

Pellechia, Thomas. (2006) Wine: the 8,000-year-old Story of the Wine Trade. Philadelphia: Running Press. 

Wilson, James E. (1998)  Terroir: The Role of Geology, Climate and Culture in the Making of French Wines. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California. 

Maury is an AOC in Roussillon and the term designates a type of fortified wine from this region. It's made in a way that is slightly similar to port production. Most Maury is grenache based, and this producer, La Coume du Roy, uses 100% grenache for this one. 

Since 1998, Agnes and Jean-François Bachelet have been making Maury at La Coume du Roy, having taken the reigns as the 6th generation to run the estate, which was founded in the 1850s. 

The grenache in this 1998 Maury was grown on schist soils (just the the Douro!). The wine was fermented in tanks, then aged in barrels from 1999-2010. 

These wines can age for a century! I recently tried a La Coume du Roy wine from 1925 (before the Maury designation even became in AOC!). 

But the story goes back even farther.... In the 1200s, Catalan alchemist Arnaldus de Villa Nova experimented with stopping fermentations with distilled alcohol and set into play an entire diaspora of fortified wine production across the globe. Arnaldus was a part of the Kingdon of Majorca, now absorbed into Spain, with parts of the kingdom in modern day France. We can trace the dawnings of Maury to his principles, patented over 800 years ago. 

As you pass the vineyards, a winding road leads you by the winery, then up to the ruins of a Colonial mansion. This grand house was built from 1814-1822 and designed by Thomas Jefferson for his friend, James Barbour. James served as the Governor of Virginia and was a friend of Thomas Jefferson's. Jefferson designed many buildings, but only three homes for his friends. While the mansion was under construction, the Barbours lived in a villa next door. 

The bricks used to construct the mansion were made on site, and the predominant feature of the structure is the octagonal room in the center of the building. The octagon room stood two stories high, and was meant to support an octagon dome, which was never constructed. 

The mansion burned down on Christmas Day, 1884. After the fire, the family renovated the neighboring villa and moved in, leaving the ruins standing. 

The mansion is on the US National register of Historic Places, and today it sits in the middle of Barboursville Vineyards. Like the Barbours did over 200 years ago, you can stay overnight at the vineyards in a room at the 1804 Inn (the villa turned bed & breakfast). The winery has named their flagship wine after the heart of this colonial home. Barboursville "Octagon" is a Bordeaux-style blend that is perhaps meant to drink a bit like the wines Jefferson may have brought back with him from France, or like the wines he wished to have made locally in Virginia, but failed to produce because he could not stabilize the viticulture. 

Bibliography
Barboursville Vineyards website. 

Loving, Boyce. (1955) "Ruins of Gov. Barbour’s Home Still Standing After 71 Years." The Daily Progress. Virginia: Charlottesville. 15 September 1955.

Wilson, Richard Guy. ed. (2002) Buildings of Virginia: Tidewater and Piedmont. New York: Oxford University Press. p130.

Bright red terra rossa soil is famous the world over for its unique flavors and characteristics that can be transmitted through wine. 

Here is an overview of some famous terra rossa vineyards and regions around the globe:

Weilberg (Pfalz, Germany)

Pfeffingen "Weilberg" Riesling (Pfalz, Germany) 

There are two known vineyards with terra rossa soil in Germany: the Steingruber in Westhoffen and this Weilberg vineyard in Ungstein. Pfeffingen's Weilberg vineyard has a strip of terra rossa soil that runs from the top of the hill to the bottom. The terra rossa portion takes up about 4 hectares of the vineyard's 30 hectares. Pfeffingen owns 2 of the 4 terra rossa hectares. They plant riesling on it; the co-op that owns the other half plants it with spatburgunder. 

Pfeffingen winemaker Jan Eymael has this to say about working with the terra rossa soil: 

"Terra rossa is an extremely dense soil. It's very thick and extremely difficult to work with. When it's dry, it is as hard as concrete. When it's wet, it's really sticky." (Eymael, 2013)

Coonawarra: Wynns & John Riddoch

John Riddoch (1827-1901): born in Scotland, moved to Australia during a gold mining boom, found a gold nugget, sold it, used the money to open up a series of shops that sold necessities to gold miners. In 1861 he came to Penola where he farmed sheep and got lucky in a wool boom. He became wealthy, built a mansion in Yallum Park, entertained royalty and was considered one of the best dressed members of the South Australian parliament. By the time 1891 rolled around he was ready to open up a new business and founded the Penola Fruit Company. He planted cabernet sauvignon, shiraz, malbec and pinot noir and made his first wine by 1895. (Wynns 2004)

In 1897 Riddoch rallied the local growers and suggested that they name their town Coonawarra. The name began to appear on labels and soon Coonawarra wines popped up frequently in the press. After Riddoch's death a distillery took over and spent decades turning wine from this incredible terroir into brandy. To help the regional economy growers were offered subsidies to rip out crops and start dairy farms. Things were looking bleak for Coonawarra wine until S. Wynn & Co. bought the old Riddoch property in 1951 and started selling wine instead of brandy. 

In 1982 Wynns decided to pay homage to John Riddoch by naming a top cuvee after him. It's made from only the top fruit in the top vintages, and after that only a few select barrels are chosen. The winemakers at Wynns estimate that less than 1% of their top cabernet sauvignon grapes go into this special bottling. 

Bibliography
Eymael, Jan. (2013) Personal Communication during Winery Visit. 2 May 2013. 
Wynns (ed). (2004) Reflections: 50 Years of Wynns Coonawarra Estate Cabernet Sauvignon
*this is a promotional book put out by the winery to celebrate their 50 year anniversary & document a 50 year vertical tasting held in celebration of the anniversary. 
Tsaksarlis, Vassilia. (2014) Personal Communication during Winery Visit. 1 June 2014. 

Sexist and Sexualized Labels and Brands
Many wineries feed off sexualized female stereotypes and produce labels that are meant to create sales through shock value. A few bottles that immediately come to mind are "B*tch" (with the pink label and "B*tch" written in big black letters), and "Menage-A-Trois" (a blend of three grapes with a saucy name). This kind of marketing is even more rampant in the beer world. I have yet to meet a sommelier who takes these wines seriously-- they are obvious in their classless appeal for sales through shock value alone. When what is inside the bottle is highly uninteresting, a label screaming for attention will push more cases. Most of us see through these marketing ploys and would never promote such a wine, and yet, the same sommelier might turn around and write a similar-premised tasting note. If cheap sexualized marketing is not OK for wineries to do, why do we accept it blindly in tasting notes?  

Wine Descriptor Vocabulary
Allow me to explain: I bristle when someone describes a wine as "masculine" or "feminine." What does that even mean, anyway? If any wine could be masculine or feminine, that would be one thing. But it's always lighter-style, delicate wines that are "feminine" and high-alcohol tannin monsters that are "masculine." It puts wine on a scale of weak/delicate to strong/bold, and then sexualizes that scale by insinuating that women are weak and delicate and that men are strong and bold. Describing wine as "masculine" or "feminine" buttresses this sexist misconception. My grandmother, for instance, is bolder and more powerful than Hulk Holgan; there are multiple meanings to the word "strength." But if you are someone who wants to look at "strength" in a purely physical way, pick ten random guys off the street-- I'm sure I could beat several of them at arm wrestling. 

I think it's equally disturbing when someone describes a wine as sexually anthropomorphic, like when people discuss wine as being "slutty," "a voluptuous woman in a red dress," or "an unapproachable spinster." There is a line of appropriateness, and most people cross this line without even thinking about it or considering it. It is inappropriate when a sommelier or wine critic is seriously trying to tell you that you should taste a "slutty" character in the wine. I remember reading one very serious tasting note in a prestigious wine publication (written by an industry leader whom I respect, paradoxically) which noted the wine was like a "demure woman revealing her ankles." These are the kind of tasting notes that I find gag-inducing. If wine inspires you to poetry, follow your muse and write a poem about it-- I'd love to read that poem. But please don't write a technical tasting note that tells me to taste a slut or a demure woman, or masculine-ness, or femininity. These are not useful descriptors and they do not tell me anything about the actual wine. All that they do is link the idea of wine with the idea of a cultural female stereotype-- it's a cheap way of getting your readers to identify with the wine. 

Unfortunately, most of the female stereotypes referenced in wine tasting notes are dismissive toward women, and this pattern in our vocabulary should be broken. As long as this type of language is accepted, the world of wine will never be a place where men and women can work on an equal playing field.  

A Line between Prose and Technical Writing
Sometimes, you'll experience an almost transportative experience when you drink wine, and I love reading about these experiences-- it's poetic. Wine is linked to human experience, and when wine writers put this into perspective for you, it is often fantastic. But there is a difference between descriptive prose/reflexive context and writing a technical tasting note about how a wine reminds you of a sexy or unsexy woman. If the purpose of a published tasting note is to contextualize the flavors, what have we learned from soft-porn, wine-inspired fantasies? Nothing.  

Furthermore, when a tasting note involves a sexualized woman metaphor, the note insinuates that the entire reading audience would relate to that note and also find a woman sexy. Essentially, a note like this shuts out half of the audience. Consider the reverse situation: Would anyone find it strange or unusual or offensive if I were to write a tasting note about a wine that went something like this, "The wine was so masculine and reminded me of a glistening body-builder flexing his abs," or some-such nonsense. Could you imagine the looks I would get? I don't assume that my entire reading audience finds men attractive, and so I refrain from using sexualized male metaphors in an attempt to relate to my audience. It's not OK for me to write a tasting note that portrays the wine as a male sex object, so why is portraying wine as a female sex object a common and accepted practice? 

I find it puzzling that so many women buy into this type of language to describe wine. And for a while I was one of them-- I actually used words like these for years until I found myself teaching a class on Piedmonte wines. I lectured about Barolo and Barbaresco, using the classic king/queen metaphor that everyone uses (Barolo is the "king," Barbaresco is the "queen")-- I didn't even think about it, it was so engrained;  it's just what you always talk about when you are teaching people about Barolo & Barbaresco. But someone in the class challenged me and said "Why does a stronger wine have to be considered masculine?" I had no answer. It got me thinking about my own use of language, and I had one of those moments when you realize you've been drinking the Kool-aid and you didn't even know it. It's such a part of our discipline-- we don't even think about it. I hear female sommeliers constantly use words like "voluptuous" to describe wine, or we'll joke about how sexy the "legs" are, but if we really stopped to think for a minute about the language we are using, I think most women would be surprised and perhaps appalled at how they have just blindly used these words and phrases that have been needlessly kicking around this industry for so long. I think most men would also pause to at least consider the value of what wine-related tidbit they are about to say. 

We should expand our vocabulary. Try using words like "structure," "power," "delicacy," and "nuance;" all of which can be used to describe both males and females. Purchase a thesaurus, or use the one that is probably already on your computer. Challenge yourself to see if you can go at least one week without using a gender-specific term to describe wine. Once I made myself consciously start to do this, I found that I got much better at speaking about wine. Instead of falling back on meaningless words like "masculine," I forced myself to become fluent in a whole new world of descriptive language. 

If you look at the structure of a professional tasting note as recommended by the Court of Masters or the WSET, there is no place in the note where you must indicate if the wine tastes male or female to you. This is because wine is not male or female, and when we sexualize it as such, I believe that this confuses the drinker even more. 

I think this is something that, as a group of professionals, we should start to work on. I have a pretty thick skin and have seen a lot in my day, and this use of language is not the worst sexist thing I can think of that has happened to me or a fellow colleague in the wine business. I'm also not a perfect person, and see my life as a sommelier as a journey on which I'll regularly make mistakes, and learn from them. I've made these mistakes myself. I'm not going to run around policing everyone who uses the words "masculine" or "feminine" or "slut" to describe wines.... But I will secretly think that your tasting note is as classy as the people who sell wine by putting a pink label on a bottle with "B*tch" scrawled across it in swirling, swooshing (notice, I didn't say "feminine") calligraphy. 

The New York Daily news published this interesting article on cocktails around Manhattan that use olive oil as an ingredient. Some people infused a spirit with olive oil, others mixed it directly into the drink; I teamed up with the kitchen team and they turned the olive oil into a powder that I used to rim the glass. 

<-- read all about it here! 

There is no doubt that Earth is going through a period of climate change-- the realization seems to be hitting the wine industry before other industry sectors will have reason to take notice. Ten years ago, people would laugh you off if you mentioned Global Warming, but now this topic is widely discussed as supporting data continues to indicate changes for wine regions, especially since the eye-opening 2003 vintage in Europe.  

In some wine regions, such as Germany, increased temperatures mean great vintages for winemakers who are accustomed to cold and struggling seasons. The winemakers express a feeling of collective gratitude for being able to make such beautiful rieslings, despite the fact that what it means to be a "Kabinett" has changed quite drastically over the last few decades. Other wine regions that are closer to the poles also feel the benefits of Global Warming-- Champagne and England, for instance, have had some beautiful recent vintages. Compare this with Australia, where the last ten years have brought severe weather conditions including droughts, heavy rains, and temperature spikes. Or look to New Zealand, which sits directly under a hole in the ozone layer. Here, winegrowers must protect their grapes and themselves from intense UV radiation. In emerging regions, like some US states and South American growing areas, there is no historical record of comparison, so the issue is not as intense. But in regions with centuries of history, Global Warming is threatening the fabric of tradition. In Bordeaux, heartier grape varieties are becoming a higher percentage of the blend; in Burgundy, warm-loving insects and nematodes are coming up from the Rhone and decimating vineyards. 

And what about the part of winemaking that is often overlooked? Microbiology is also affected by warmer temperatures. For winemakers using natural yeast fermentations, the spectrum of yeast strains in the vineyard and winery will be different in higher temperature ranges, leading to different aromas in wine. The microbiology in the soil and on the vine will also be different, affecting growth, plant health, and in some cases ripening. 

Climate Change has also been accompanied by great technological innovation, so warmer climates have the ability to do cold ferments and control fermentation issues better than in the past-- this, in a way mitigates some of the vinification issues of warm-climate winemaking, but these technical innovations do not make much of a difference in the vineyard. Vineyard managers, however, are experimenting with new training methods, which can help fight changing conditions. 

Here are a few thoughts about Climate Change from people around the globe: 

Hanno Zilliken of Zilliken (Saar, Mosel, Germany)


"In the last decade, nature has been so generous. We are in a lucky position with Global Warming, and with stronger work in the vineyard plus the rising temperatures we are getting great wines. In the last ten years, sometimes we use Spatlese, even Auslese material for the basic wine."  (Zilliken 2013)

Jan Eymael of Pfeffingen (Pfalz, Germany)

"When I started making wine people said 'Never pick riesling before mid-October.' Now, we pick in late September. Now, we have cooler years here and there, but you do see a trend of the climate getting warmer and warmer. You see the character or riesling change. We have started vineyard methods to hold back the ripeness." (Eymael 2013)  

Chateau Gruaud Larose (Bordeaux, France)

Their plantings are primarily cabernet sauvignon, followed by merlot, cabernet franc, and tiny parcels of petit verdot and malbec. The blend very roughly follows this ratio, but is subject to change depending on the fruit quality of any given year. At Gruaud Larose they currently love the effect that a particular low-yeilding petit verdot clone has on the blend, and are in the process of changing the ratio of plantings by increasing petit verdot from 3% to 6%. Though it is just a dream at this stage, they wonder what effect carmenere (which has been in exile in Chile for some time) would have on the blend if it were brought back home to Bordeaux-- especially in the wake of global warming, which in recent years has had an effect on the ripening of certain varietals.

Chateau de la Gardine (Chateauneuf du Pape, Rhone, France)

At Chateau de la Gardine in the southern Rhone Valley, they have had to change their viticulture practices to conform to the hotter climate. 

Johannes Selbach of Selbach (Mosel, Germany)

"What we have really noticed with Global Warming is that pests from the Mediterrnean are migrating northward. We have never had to deal with the glassy-winged sharpshooter that carries Pierce's disease before, but now it can survive in the Mosel." 

Erinn Klein of Ngeringa (Adelaide Hills, Australia)

"Ten years ago, people were talking about Global Warming. Now, the discussion is more about Climate Change. We've been influenced recently by weather changes resulting from currents." 

Dean Hewitson of Hewitson (Barossa, Australia)

Dean has had to deal with so wild temperature and climate conditions since his first vintage in 1998. He notes that the effects of La Nina and El Nino have greatly affected Australia's winegrowing conditions in certain years. See an overview of these vintages and temperature ranges here. 

Bibliography
Eymael, Jan. (2013) Personal Communication during a Winery Visit. 3 May 2013. 
Hewitson, Dean. Personal Communication in NYC. March 2013. 
Klein, Erinn. (2013) Personal Communication in NYC. 1 November 2013. 
Selbach, Johannes. (2013) Personal Communication in NYC. July 2013. 
Wasserman, Peter. (2013) I'll Drink to That Podcast- Levi Dalton Interviews Peter Wasserman. 15 September 2013. 
Zilliken, Hanno. (2013) Personal Communication during a Winery Visit. 30 April 2013. 

Do you ever find yourself staring at a beer label, and wondering, what exactly IS that? This happens to me once in a while. Like today. See if you can help me out here: 

Looks alright from far away. 

Let's zoom in. Ok, here on the left we have what looks like grain. 
Iconic beer label imagery.
Maybe those splotches represent all the natural yeast that made this saison possible.  

On the right side: more grain. 


Still pretty normal. 

Style points for scrollage. 

When I think of 'artisanal,' I think 'original,' 'hand made,' 'crafted...' 
But look real close at the end of the letter 'L.' 

A hand (with knuckle hair?) reaches up from the scroll. 

The hand is holding some tape. 

The tape is taping up..... another hand? 

But nothing is holding the other end of the tape down! How is it not unravelling? 

There is a brain in the background. 
Remember those splotches I thought were wild yeast? 
Not yeast. 

But the Devil is in the details. Literally. 
Here he is, creeping up from the bottom of the label, only a few millimeters wide.
What is HE doing here?! 

Interesting saison made from spelt? Yes. 

Label as wild as the yeast? Yes!  

Erinn and Janet Klein at Ngeringa winery in Adelaide Hills, Australia, make small quantities of a lovely dessert wine made similarly to a Vin Santo. The wine is called "Altus," and it's made by drying grapes, crushing them and letting them ferment on their own, then leaving them in an un-topped barrel for about five years. The wine oxidatively develops a rich, raisiny and nutty character. Altus is made primarily from viognier, with a little pinot gris and gewurztraminer as well. 

Ngeringa winery is farmed according to biodynamic principles (NASAA certified) and is in the good hands of the husband and wife Klein team. They don't just grow grapes-- orchards, cattle and sheep, and vegetable gardens also contribute to the local ecosystems. 

The logo represents the full moon, "acknowledging the outer influences on the plants." The full moon has central importance in the biodynamic calendar; though Erinn mentions that sometimes the climate extremes are so intense that they have to harvest when they can, without waiting for the moon to be in the right position. 

The black tree-like symbol represents the Ngeringa tree. "Ngeringa" means "place of the she oak" in the original local dialect, though the tree is not like an oak at all. The needles on this tree resemble equisetum (horsetail), which is used in biodynamic preparation 508.  Because of planting restrictions, they cannot grow equisetum on site, and so they make this preparation by substituting the needles of the Ngeringa tree. I think this is an ingenious solution by using what you've got to do the best you can. It's also a way to bring the entire ecosystem together and give the name a much deeper significance. 

The Altus is mostly viognier-- a grape not often (not ever?) used to make vin santo-style wines. Erinn said something quite profound when he began to talk about why he is making this: 

"It's our luxury-- and curse-- in the New World that we can pretty much do whatever we want." 

This freedom of choice does inform the philosophies of newer wine regions, for better or for worse, and it is in these regions that we can find some of the most unique wines. But unique, in this case, doesn't mean crazy or wild or extreme. This wine tasted very much like a great Vin Santo-- oxidation can mask many varietal characteristics leaving behind the imprint of the method. Ur Vin Santo in Italy is so varied itself, that it doesn't seem that much of a stretch to make it from viognier (and pinot gris and gewurztraminer).   

Vin Santo-- and its diaspora-- make me think about form and line, rather than specific esters from certain grape varieties fermented at specific temperatures. It's a beverage that has a larger envelope of what is acceptable, it's a big-picture wine.