Well, the day has arrived - after all the hard work, harvest is over. I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that.

It has been pretty brutal on my back, arms, and hands, but a boon to my stomach, and my mind. I don’t know when I’ve last eaten so consistently well… and after 3 months of travel (to the day, actually) it has been therapeutic to stay still for 2 weeks, and in such a special place. Despite the challenges. It may have been tough getting out of bed in the morning, but there’s something to be said for the fact that I knew exactly what I was getting into each day, and that for 8 hours there was nothing to do but harvest and think. Things are not going to be that simple from here on out.

For consistency’s sake, and for some closure, let’s finish ‘le journal.’ Here, in a nutshell, is week 2:

Day 6: I had to sit out this morning and go shoe shopping. After super-glueing my soles back on 3 times, yesterday one of them detached completely, and the fight was officially lost. Imagine my surprise when I was actually able to find a pair of sneakers in size 50 in Avignon… and my pleasure at the pricetag of 25 euros. A very good thing, as they will not be coming with me. Not only is a day of harvest here worth a year on paved roads, but that space in my bag will now be occupied by bottles of Trevallon. We all have our priorities.

Day 7: I’m not entirely sure why, but today was the hardest day yet. So much so, in fact, that I’m ashamed to confess that my ipod made an appearence in the field.

Day 8: I AM AN UNCLE!!! At 6:00 AM Albuquerque time (2:00 in the afternoon, here) Rachel Hannah Epstein Baudo entered the world. Somehow I felt it, and ran to check my email after work… then ran back to the cellar, grabbed Côme, and raced to the supermarket to buy champagne before they closed. Made it there with about 3 minutes to spare… celebrated with a bottle of 1999 Moët - the best I could afford, and pretty damn good. Of course, with what we’ve been drinking here, I hate to say it was somewhat overshadowed. Someday, ma chere nièce, we’ll do better than that. (Ahem, not for 21 years, of course…)

I managed to get back to the cellar with time to even witness the punch-down, which I referred to in my last post. It turns out that at Trevallon, at least, there IS some stomping on grapes that happens. The first tank of red that we filled is a huge wooden cask that ferments with the top open (this is the one I listened to the other night). After fermentation is complete, this one tank goes through ‘punch-down,’ rather than ‘pump-over.’ And how I wish I could upload some visual aide for this one! Let me explain: all of the skins, stems, and solids float to the top of the wine during fermentation, and form a ‘cap.’ During pump-over, as I described in my last post, wine is drawn from the bottom of the tank and hosed on top of the cap to obtain more color and flavor. The punch-down, however, is far more dramatic… it involves somebody (usually Antoine), naked except for underwear, hooked into a harness. Using two wooden planks for leverage, he uses his entire body to push the cap down into the wine. At first only his feet are red, but by the end of the process, the wine reaches his torso. Seriously something to behold - and, I may add, one reason why Antoine is pretty ripped. We hosed him off before opening the champagne.

Day 9: Today is the last official day of harvest. We finished in about 3 hours this morning (a short shift), during the first 5 minutes of which I sliced my thumb pretty badly - of course it was destined to happen on the last day. In a complete turn-around that forces me to take back my previous assessment, Pascal not only gave me bucket carrying duty (NOT so easy, I may add) but even taught me to drive the tractor! Now I’ve driven a forklift in the Winebow warehouse and a tractor at Trevallon - all that’s left is a delivery truck. We’ll see if I ever get to that.

This afternoon was the post-harvest ‘repas - ‘ That’s a fancy word for party. And a fancy party it was! I’m not going to list the whole menu and wine-list here, but I will say, with no exaggeration, and without care for who reads this, that Trevallon 1983 is the single best wine I have ever consumed. I have tasted some extraordinary bottles, but never have I had such a perfectly balanced wine. Certainly never at the table, with wonderful food and friendly faces. (It turns out that at the time of its release several people more qualified than myself praised it as the best French wine of the year.) It’s also pretty cool to think that while I was alive at the time, I wasn’t even speaking yet when the grapes were harvested.

Day 10 (today): This morning we picked the white - just the full-time Trevallon employees, Côme, myself, and Jean-Baptiste before he ran to the train. It was very slow-going but at the most beautiful parcel of all, and rather nice actually as with just the 6 of us we all spend the morning chatting. The white is done differently as it does not spent nearly as much time in the tank. We emptied our buckets into milk crates (about 110 at the final count, I think) which we brought back to the cellar and threw into the presser one by one. The juice will spend about 24 hours in the tank with the lees (skins, etc) and then be put right into the barrels that it will spend the next 2 years in.

I hope that by the time all this is bottled, I’m in a position to buy it by the case, rather than the bottle… this promises to be a very good vintage, and I certainly put blood sweat and tears into it! Whatever it takes, my niece WILL drink 2007 Trevallon on her 21st birthday. That is a promise that Gillian and Nate can hold me to.

September 28th, 2007 | vita, vino | No comments

I realized today that while I’ve given you all a solid image of my newly rugged hands, I haven’t actually explained how any of this works. So before the final installment of ‘Le Journal,’ which is sure to come later this week, I thought I’d paint a more descriptive picture for my loyal readers.

(First a quick aside - for those of you who haven’t noticed, and are interested, you can now subscribe to this blog and receive the posts a email. To do so, just scroll to the bottom of the page and enter your email in the subscription box. Thank you once again to the multi-talented Noah Brier.)

Maison de Trevallon; 7:00 AM:

knock, knock…

‘bonjour Aaron!’

‘bonjour…groan…‘ Here we go again.

Brush up, put my eyes in, run downstairs for a quick breakfast. Toast (with amazing jelly), coffee (thank god), and I’m off.

I meet the rest of the harvest gang for our daily reunion in front of the cellar, and shake everybody’s hand good morning. And a motley crew it is. Here’s who’s hand I’m shaking:

First there’s Côme, who I actually see at the breakfast table everyday. Antoine’s cousin, Floriane and Eloi’s nephew, and my partner in crime here, he is the other house guest and a fellow traveller; fluent in English and just back from a year in Singapore. (If you’ve forgotten who Antoine and Eloi are, or are new to my wineblog, feel free to look back at the Trevallon post. Floriane is the wife, mother, and mistress of the house - and my gracious hostess.)

Pascal, the vineyard manager/ drill sergeant, runs a tight ship but helps make Trevallon what it is. I get the feeling, however, that if it were truly his ship, there wouldn’t be any Americans on it. Not usually the first person to tell me bonjour.

Jean-Luc is the other full-time vineyard employee and the life of the party, as well as my introduction to the Provençal accent. He cracks even me up - and I don’t understand a word out of his mouth.

Aymeric, Antoine’s right hand man in the cellar, is young and passionate about wine, as well as being a hell of a nice guy. His usual job in the fields is as bucket-carrier/ tractor driver - we’ll get to that.

Alain is a retiree who truly knows how to live life. I’m sure he told me what he used to do and I didn’t understand it, but now he spends much of his time in productive pursuits like picking grapes and hunting for truffles. You’ve gotta love a guy like that - plus he’s très gentil.

François loves Trevallon so much that he is working the harvest here for a case of wine as payment. The rest of the year he is an architect in Arles, a friendly and generous man who was even kind enough to buy me shoes last week (albeit too small). For that I am forever in his debt, although he’d be a lot more fun to work with if he stopped talking occasionally, or at least stuck to things he has a clue about.

Jean-Baptiste, the youngest kid on the block, is a lot of fun, and hopefully when all of this is over he’ll actually send me some of the music we’ve been talking about. He’s 20, this is his second harvest at Trevallon, and in the real world he does children’s animation. I haven’t figured out quite yet what that consists of.

Olivier, the perfect ‘vendangeur’, is a joy to behold. Hand-rolled cigarette dangling out of his mouth, shirt off of his small, southern, and very tan frame, one look at him is all I need to remember I’m in France. Of course then again I’d have to be deaf dumb and blind to forget it.

Sebastien is a local boy, straight out of school for nature preservation. He is fast as lightning in the vineyard, but minus the thunder - SBD. Keeps to himself, but if you get him going he’s a sweetheart.

Just so that I’m not the only foreigner, we’ve got Mohammad from Morocco and Omar from Algeria, both of whom now live locally. They would win the speed race everyday (luckily for me, there is no such thing), despite the fact that they are currently observing Ramadan! They don’t even drink water during the day, let alone eat the chocolate croissants that we are occasionally given during our 5-minute break. Unbelievable.

In the afternoons we are often graced with the presence of Christelle, Antoine’s lovely companion for going on 5 years now, and my new friend. She took me shoe-shopping yesterday morning (successfully, believe it or not), and is my confidant here.

Antoine himself joins us in the vineyard when he can escape from the cellar, as does Monsieur Eloi himself for at least part of each day. And then of course there’s Tulipe… the coolest Labrador ever. (I’m sorry Derby - you still have some growing up to do! I love you dearly, though, and you will always be my first ‘niece.’ At least for another day or two now…) Tulipe is worth millions - every day this dog eats enough grapes straight off the vine to make a half a case of Trevallon.

So, now that you’ve been introduced to my teammates and we’ve all said good morning, we hit the fields, each of us with a small hedge-trimmer in hand and a plastic bucket. We take our places, following the sergeant’s orders, and start to snip…

Turns out this whole ‘picking’ thing is a bit of a mis-nomer - when the grapes are ripe they’re almost impossible to get off the vine by hand without a great deal of pain and the loss of many grapes. (sticky)

Snip, snip….

‘SCEAU!’

The cry of a full bucket, which is quickly exchanged by Aymeric, Pascal, Jean-Luc, or even Eloi (whoever’s on bucket duty) for an empty one.

The grapes are thrown into the tractor bin, which has a huge screw on the bottom. When the bin is full it’s brought to the cellar, hooked up to a wide hose which leads into one of the fermentation tanks, and the screw turns… simultaneously pressing the grapes and pushing them into the hose, and therefore the tank.

The bin is then rinsed with that day’s juice (one of the most wonderful nectars I’ve ever tasted), unhooked from the tank, and washed out again with water. Let’s not talk too much about the bees that hover during this whole process - I usually hang out around the edges, epi-pen in pocket.

We do about a tank a day, and at the end of each day every tank goes through what is called a ‘pump-over.’ Quite simply, the juice is drawn from the bottom of the tank and hosed back on top of the ‘chapeau-’ the cap of skins and stems that floats to the top. This is done to extract more color and tannin from the skins. This is far from being the end of the process, but as I haven’t witnessed the punch-down yet and I’ve heard it’s quite a scene, you’ll have to wait for the next installment.

After all this is done, I run to the shower as fast as I can, and wash off that day’s grime. Well, as much of it as possible.

September 25th, 2007 | vita, vino | 1 comment

So I did it - I made it through he first week of harvest. And I can still stand up straight.

Here are some more notes on the week-

Day 4: I listened to wine fermenting last night, and wished I could have slept in the cellar. It’s rather like putting a conch shell to your ear; except it’s actually alive. I understand why people dedicate their whole lives to this. Still don’t know if I could do it, but I get it. It’s amazing to be part of this process.

Day 5: I think I can, I think I can… if I can get through today, I get to rest my weary bones! It took most of the week, but I’m finally more or less used to this. I must say this is one of the first instances I’ve come across where being tall is such a disadvantage. Well, this and airplane travel. After surviving the first 4 days, I now feel like I’m in better shape than I’ve been in years. Of course, after all this is over I’m going to eat my way through Italy, so we’ll see what happens.

Le weekend est arriveè!

How novel to sleep past 7. Little did I know, arriving here, that I would actually get the weekend off - I thought we worked straight through until all the vines were done. All work and no play makes Aaron a dull boy… last night I fell asleep (several times) during France’s smashing victory against Ireland in the Rugby World Cup. Imagine that. Of course it was a little difficult to understand the rules of a game I have never played or seen before when they are explained to me in French… and Pastis is not exactly known to keep one awake. Yummy, though.

I am excited to actually get to see some of Provence -  we’re going to the beach today. Allez! A dose of the Mediterranean will be lovely, and maybe I’ll get to even out my farmer’s tan a little bit. Tomorrow I look forward to a taking a photographic tour of the vineyards we’ve been working; it’s a little hard to stop picking to take photos and not feel like the stupid American tourist. As it is, I’m a little behind the speed curve. I am determined, however, to somehow get a picture of me in the act. Someday (hopefully while I’m still here) I’ll manage to get my own computer online again so that I can share the pics with you.

Time for what smells like it’s going to be another spectacular Trevallon lunch. Which somehow reminds me that today is Yom Kippur…. oops. No, I’m not fasting this year.

September 22nd, 2007 | vita, vino | No comments

Due to demand from my (apparently growing) readership, and despite the incredible frustration of using a French keyboard, I wanted to share some notes from harvest with you. I apologize for the brevity… I’ll be adding to this as I have the opportunity.

Day 1: Picked Syrah today - and it hurt. Cut my hand with the first cluster I picked. I’ve gotta say I feel pretty tough. Then again, we just got started.

Day 2: I didn’t know I had these muscles in my back. And that no, a hot shower is not enough to get rid of 8 hours worth of grape juice on one’s skin, or dirt from under one’s nails.

Day 3: I no longer recognize my hands. They belong to somebody else - somebody who works much harder than I ever have. Laced with small cuts, stained red, I remind myself that this is what wine is really about!

Having said that, however, I should note that so far, the harvest has been even rougher on my clothes than on me. Perhaps I was a little over zealous about bringing ‘throwaway’ clothes… the souls of my shoes are falling off, and I split the seat of my pants today so badly that, for once in my life, I was happy there were no women around. I can only hope that the mornings don’t get too much colder… and that my shorts manage to hold up a little bit better. Of course I’ve also learned that organic farming means mosquitoes beyond count - they actually live on the leaves. So it may come down to a choice between freezing and itching.

You are definitely getting your money’s worth when you spend more on wine that is harvested by hand. To be honest, I cannot conceive of how a machine can even do what we’ve been doing.

On a different note, I am currently living in one of the most beautiful places I have ever been, and being spoiled rotten. I feel rather like the Durrbachs’ crazy cousin from New York - they have completely welcomed me into the family. My French is improving at at the speed of light (if I may say so myself), and I can now vouch for the fact that everything grown at Trevallon is extraordinary, not only the grapes. And they grow everything here - so far I’ve had tomatoes, beets, potatoes, olives (and spectacular olive oil), not to mention all the herbs.

Speaking of which, time for dinner.

There will be more to come.

September 19th, 2007 | vino | 2 comments

I’m going to go ahead and assume that most of the people reading this (assuming, of course, that there are people reading this) are not too familiar with Domaine de Trevallon. Since I’m about to spend 2 weeks there and in all likelihood disappear from my new online digs for much of that time, I thought I’d write a bit more about them, and why it’s their grapes that will be all over me starting Monday morning.

To be honest, I didn’t know much about Trevallon either, until Antoine Durrbach (son of founder and winemaker Eloi Durrbach) came to New York for the first time in May and spent a day with me selling his family’s wine, when I was still a salesman with Winebow.

The first thing I learned was that the wines are absolutely stunning. The second, that Antoine was a hell of a lot of fun to spend time with. (Unfortunately not always the case on my supplier work-withs… quality of wine does not necessarily correspond to strength of personality, as I’ve learned)

Our meeting happened at a fortuitous time - just as I was starting to hatch the grand scheme for my ‘walkabout.’ I asked my new friend when they tend to harvest, and if they hire people to help…

So yeah, that’s the short version.

Trevallon is also, luckily for me, in a beautiful place - Baux de Provence. (The link takes you to the google map - if you use the satellite view and zoom in you can even see the vineyards) I’ve never been to the south of France, and my French could use some practice before I spend the next couple of years speaking Spanish… as if I needed an excuse to go there!

Trevallon wine is not only yummy, however, but also unique and even politically edgy. In a sense, the Durrbachs are the wine rebels of Provence.

The French wine laws that govern what goes on the label are extraordinarily strict, and make up the basis for the wine laws in most of the rest of the world. Each specific designation (”appellation d’origine controlee,” or simply “AOC,” or “appellation”) may control what kind of grapes are used - and in what proportion; where they are grown - and bottled; how long the wine is aged - and in what kind of vessel.

If a wine ‘breaks the rules” for it’s appellation, it is demoted to a “Vin de Pays” (”VdP,” or “country wine”), which indicates only where the wine was grown, and nothing else. AOC Baux de Provence wines are not supposed to contain more than 20% Cabernet Sauvignon grapes…. Trevallon’s vineyards are planted with 60% Cabernet and 40% Syrah. The wine is classified as a Vin de Pays des Bouches-du-Rhone. Those daredevils.

Those of you not in the wine business may be asking yourselves why any of this matters. The short answer is that it doesn’t, really - if you like a wine, drink it, regardless of what’s on the label!

But issues begin to crop up when you try to sell the wine, as most consumers, not entirely without reason, assume AOC wines to be of higher quality than VdP wines, and are willing to pay higher prices for them. Thus the (admirable) ‘cult’ status of certain small wineries, like Trevallon, that are willing to take a stand and let nothing come between them and the wine they seek to make.

When Eloi planted the vineyard to Cabernet vines he knew he was taking a risk, and in doing so helped pave the way for others who wanted to express their creativity, even if it meant giving up AOC (or DOC…) status.

(For more on declassified wines read a little bit about Italy’s Super Tuscans. There’s enough there for a whole post, so I’m going to hold off on that one for now)

After all is said and done Trevallon, for one, is no worse off for being a VdP wine. They really have the whole package: you probably noticed the awesome label at the top of this post. Of course there’s a story there, too; one that dates back to before planted Eloi planted the first vines in 1973. His father Rene was a painter and sculptor - a friend and contemporary of Pablo Picasso. Rene bought the property in 1955, where he lived and worked and (presumably) drank wine with the likes of Picasso and Albert Gleizes. Towards the end of his life, when he wasn’t working much, his son Eloi gave him 50 posters to work on. These, created with crayon, became the Trevallon labels.

Pretty cool stuff.

Now I’m really psyched. I wonder if I’ll get any sleep tonight.

September 13th, 2007 | vita, vino | No comments

I’m back in the burbs for a bit more family time and to tip my hat to Rosh Hashonah before the next big departure.

This seemed to be as appropriate a topic as any for today, as every year at this time (and in the spring, around Passover) people start to ask me what’s up with kosher wine. Some also take the opportunity to bash Israeli wine, which is pretty easy sport given most of what’s on the market here… I have heard there’s some good stuff available domestically (wine has been made there on and off for several millennia, after all), but it’s also interesting to note that the best Israeli wine I’ve tasted so far, Bravdo, wasn’t even certified kosher. This may have changed with the latest release – I was told a year or so ago that they were moving towards certification as quickly as they could. In the market for Israeli wine, though, that’s just good business sense.

How can wine even BE kosher? We’re talking about something agricultural here, on top of which there is a rapidly growing organic movement that is starting to really gain momentum in the wine world. Not to even mention biodyamics….I’m going to see how long I can last without getting into that one on here, but if you’re really curious (and/or bored) the link will take you to wikipedia’s biodynamic agriculture page. One could make a seemingly logical statement that if it’s organic or biodynamic, it’s GOTTA be kosher….

Now that I can be objective about it - my father having finally ceded the fight during last year’s high holidays, in a quiet but complete reversal - I thought I’d finally take the time to do some proper research into what makes wine kosher, and if there’s any substance to it at all.

What I learned is pretty fascinating, if also pretty damn silly… it turns out that grape products are the ONE exception to the law of kashrut that all fruits and vegetables are kosher. (thank you to the good people at jewfaq.org. and yes, that is a real site)

However, this has little to do with the actual winemaking process and everything to do with WHO is carrying it out - more importantly, who they pray to. Believe it or not, the most important factor in wine being kosher is that it was not touched by pagan hands!

Despite the place that wine has in many Jewish observances (Passover, anyone?) the fact that it was also used for pagan rituals made the ancient Jews very wary…. they were unable to consume anything that might, hypothetically, have been used in the practice of idolatry. So to my ancestors wine touched by pagan hands was as traif as pork.

I guess nobody ever treated them to prosciutto wrapped figs, either.

Nowadays, I don’t think many would accuse the French of being pagans. Nor the majority of Italians, Spaniards, Germans, Argentines, or Americans…

I should mention that there are other strict rules governing kosher wine, the most comprehensive list I found was at gemsinisrael.com, a site apparently run by the Israeli tourism board. I’ll let you read about these on your own if you want.

I’m sure it won’t surprise anybody to learn that some of the laws of kashrut are a little antiquated (read: utterly random). Not to criticize those with more faith than I (if anything, I’m slightly jealous), but to the best of my knowledge, there aren’t too many premium wines around today that use bull’s blood as a fining agent, or who’s marketing strategies are aimed at Wiccans.

So, my fellow Hebes, drink up.

September 11th, 2007 | vino | 4 comments

Hello, and welcome to my new blog. Don’t be intimidated by the wine part - if you know me at all you know I’m not somebody who can stay focused on one subject for very long…

But you also know it all comes back to vino, sooner or later.

I figured this is as good a time as any to join the cool kids and get online: after a summer of domestic travel, the real adventure finally begins this friday, as I leave for my first harvest!

I arrive in Paris on Saturday, and Sunday i’m off to Provence….

Trevallon here I come!

Check back for more. I promise it’s coming.

Cheers!

September 10th, 2007 | vita | 2 comments