Taken from a Police Department interview transcript:
Is it true, that on or about 8:50 am on 21 October, you willing caused a lot of Clone 30 Cabernet Sauvignon from Ghielmetti Vineyard to be pressed until it was devoid of juice? And remember, we have witnesses.
I’m not sure why I’m here officer. But, that’s what I do.
So, you admit to causing grievous bodily…pressing…to said lot of Cabernet?
I’ve got nothing to hide. At about 8:50 I drew off the free run wine from two fermentors and then dumped the skins into our press.
Slow down, pal. Let’s back up a second. What wine are we talking about, specifically?
It was the second pick of Clone 30 (or See clone) Cabernet from Ghielmetti Vineyard, our estate site in the eastern foothills of the Livermore Valley. This is our best block of fruit and typically makes up the base for our Bordeaux blend – LINEAGE | Livermore Valley.
So, this is the wine that came from a pick on October 8, 2013.
I have sworn testimony here that you picked fruit from this very same block on October 4th as well. Why didn’t you press that lot first?
Well, there are a couple of different philosophies….
Don’t get cute with me, winemaker man! Just the facts.
Ok…there are different curves of ripeness in a vineyard. Not all fruit gets ripe, even in the same block, at the same time. And, not all wines – in fermentor – exhibit the same sense of structure and completeness in a predictable period of time.
You’re saying that some grapes picked earlier – from the same block – take longer to
resolve tannins and display the richness that you are looking for than grapes picked later?
I didn’t saying it quite so poetically, but yes.
FIne, fine. So what happened at 9:40am on the same day? Something about a press rotation?
What I am trying to do is get as much wine out at the lowest possible pressure.
Why is that important?
Well, it gets back a bit to the philosophy thing…
Go ahead, go ahead. We don’t got all day. I’ve got a case of enzyme addition to deal with.
In my mind, great wine is about balance. And, texture (the way the wine feels in your mouth – how astringent, how full, the nature of the astringency, etc.) is perhaps the most important quality for me when I’m considering the quality of the wine. More important, even, than flavor and aroma.
I use a stair-step approach to pressing. I get out what I can from 0 pressure, then stair-step the pressure up .2 to .25 bar until the flow slows sufficiently to warrant the next step. At about 1.0 bar (or one atmosphere of pressure), I vacuum out the press, opening up the bladder inside, then rotate the press a few times to redistribute the fruit. Then I reinflate the bladder to a pressure high enough to start the flow of wine again. I stop there for a while then move the pressure up in increments to as high as 2 Bar (depending on the wine).
How do you know what’s happening at each step up in pressure?
That’s where the tasting comes into play. I draw a sample at each
step so I can taste (in essence, so I can feel the wine’s texture) if there is enough tannin – or too much – being drawn out at a given pressure. What I find generally, and in the wine
you’re questioning me about, specifically, is a bouncing around of flavor and “color” of fruit, and weightiness (or tannin content). Interestingly enough, in the first turn, the wine at lower pressure (say .25 to .45 Bar) seems more tannic than samples at higher pressure. You’d think the opposite would be true, but I think it could be sugars from raisins that are finally being drawn out…or it could have to do with the interaction with tartrates that seem to come out most heavily earlier in the cycle that cause an astringency I don’t see after the first turn, for example.
So what’s the second turn at 9:53am all about?
Well, we’ve talked about drawing out various organoleptic characteristics (flavor, aroma, texture) from the wine as we move up in pressure. We also want to maximize the amount of wine we get from each press. By turning again, we loosen the cake of skins and seeds temporarily, redistribute them in the press, and press again…again, in a stair-step way until the skins are dry.
Let me get this straight. It takes a couple of hours to go from a box full of skins and wine to a tankful of just wine. And during this time, you’re gently squeezing out flavor and texture and gauging the extent to which and pressure at which these elements express themselves so that you end up with a finished wine that causes the winelover to slow down and experience and ponder and become emotionally invested?
Wow. Well said. Yeah, that’s about it.
So there’s no crime here, then?
Only if you do it wrong, I suppose.