Trucking on down 1 March 2007

Chris Mullineux talks of a vital tool for the obsessive winemaker, and on the interesting question of choosing just when to pick those grapes

Today I’m going to be doing something that seems like a total waste of time. Especially at this time of the year.

I’m going through to the traffic department in Ceres (the closest traffic department to where I live) to renew my pdp, or professional driving permit… in layman’s terms, my truck driving licence. There’s a fair amount of rigmarole involved – the usual queues, paper work, and eye tests, as well as a compulsory visit to the doctor and police station. I know it will take up the whole day.

Why waste my precious time in the middle of harvest you might ask? Well, a truck licence is proving more and more valuable these days – and not because the state of the wine industry means I have to moonlight as a trucker to make ends meet, but because there are some super opportunities out there.

With the massive oversupply of grapes at the moment, it’s a real buyer’s market. Everybody’s selling grapes, and though there is a lot of rubbish on offer, if you look in the right places you can find some really special parcels to buy from.

Why do I need a licence though? Couldn’t I just send somebody else to pick up the grapes? Wouldn’t I make better use of my time in the cellar rather than trucking around the winelands of the Cape? It’s something I’ve pondered about, and though it’s what most wineries do, I’ve decided against it.

I’m just not willing to give up the control you see. Getting the grapes in on the right day, as quickly and smoothly as possible, is vital. Doing it personally means I can get up as early as necessary, get to the farm on time, make sure things happen properly, and get back to our cellar before it gets hot. Having somebody else responbsible, someone who doesn’t care as much as I do, means things will probably not be done right. There will be less urgency, grapes will be left standing in the sun, and some (not all!) farmers are notorious for the vineyard subterfuge they try to get away with (chucking a few bunches of merlot in with your syrah, for example), so being there personally is critical.

Driving around the winelands also means I keep in touch with what’s happening with the vintage. As there are a couple of other winemakers who insist on getting the grapes in themselves, I often bump into them when we take grapes from the same farm. It’s good to chat about how things are progressing, and fascinating to see when other winemakers harvest the same grapes we are taking in.

Interestingly, there is a big difference between what winemakers consider ripe. Optimal ripeness is an extremely relative term. In a couple of vineyards where we take grapes from for example, there is a three week difference between when we take the grapes, and when the last buyers do. This is the same farm, same variety, and same block, treated the same way. The only difference is when the buyer decides to harvest.

This massive difference comes from the reasons how and why we decide to harvest. In our case, picking dates are based purely on taste. And I mean purely on taste. We analyse nothing before harvest.

The reason for this is simple. If I analyse a batch of grapes, and know that the sugar is still relatively low, I will probably postpone picking for a while, even though the tannins taste ripe. In the back of my mind there will always be a voice saying ‘it can’t really be ripe if the potential alcohol is only 13 percent’. By taking the knowledge of sugar levels away, I can only base my decisions on the ripeness and balance of taste, and interestingly, our average alcohol levels have dropped by almost one percent since working like this.

Some winemakers take the opposite approach to the extreme, and only harvest once the sugar has reached a certain (very high) level. These are the guys harvesting three weeks after we do, with potential alcohols of over 16 percent. It might sound crazy, but these guys know exactly what they are doing. They have a specific aim in mind - the later they harvest, the more they can extract from the grapes, and the bigger their wine will be.

The wine market is a competitive place, and to sell, there is more and more pressure for your wine to stick out and impress. This I understand and accept. But there is also a move away from high alcohol levels.

What I struggle with is the fact that though more people are harvesting later and later, fewer wines are being released with massive alcohols. Something is happening here. Where does the wine from these raisiny grapes end up?

Trucking around the winelands, I’m keeping my eyes open for those sneaky guys scuttling around with their reverse osmosis machines in tow, and if I see one, don’t blame me for running them off the road. I’m sure my truck is bigger than theirs.