1 . So you left a great job to do what? Is that what your Dad asked you?

Three years of Accenture was more than enough. It was  a good starting point after college and I certainly learned how to be professional, polished and “client-facing”. I also learned new phrases like ‘reach out’ (which means to contact), ‘lock down’ (commit), and ‘close-of-business’ (midnight).

Luckily I got posted to London for the last 6 months of my tenure, and numerous tastings and trips later I had the wine bug.

The opportunity with Decanter was a no-brainer, despite the significant drop in pay. I’ve curbed my Amazon addiction and have been coping just fine.

2. Is the new gig the dream job?

I’m really enjoying it. I’m handling the operations and marketing of the Decanter World Wine Awards, a wine competition in its 7th year. This year we did really well and reached 12,400 entries, making it the largest wine competition in the world.

A couple of weeks ago, Judging Week took place in The Worx, a photography studio in Parson’s Green in West London.

We had over 200 judges flown in from all over the world, including 58 MW’s and 15 MS’s.

The buzz was unbelievable, and my jobs ranged from overseeing regional tastings, running Twitter and Facebook for the DWWA, and fixing Steven Spurrier’s computer.

I was somewhat horrified at the condition of many judges’ teeth. As a result I am already bracing myself for the gradual disintegration of my own if I stick with the wine gig long-term.

Chillingly, the paint on the surface of the drain (where all the excess wine is poured down) erodes away with the acid in the wine as the week goes on, and needs a new coat after each judging week.

3. What wines have you tried that have impressed?

In general, I’m becoming a fan of English wine (sorry Dad) and am passionate about supporting a local industry to where I live.

Climate-change permitting, red grapes struggle to ripen in this country, but some fabulous rosés are becoming available. I tasted some fantastic whites from the Bacchus grape, and of course English sparking wine holds its own on any international stage.

Last week I tried wines from China, Thailand and India, which all won medals in the competition last week for the first time. Encouraging signs for these emerging wine regions.

4. Any other perks to the job?

No more ‘Sunday fear’! Working in a job which I am genuinely happy and passionate about is a totally new feeling, and I feel lucky to be able to say this. I would encourage – no, beg – others to make a similar move!

Pre-tasting wines for the great Steven Spurrier is a regular highlight, just don’t ask him about Bottle Shock.

The opportunity to sit in on masterclasses and learn from industry legends such as Gerard Basset MS, John Radford and Peter McCombie MW is a real treat.

And working with the DWWA team and the gregarious Sarah Kemp (the Publisher of Decanter) is an absolute pleasure.

Thanks Eamon, and if you need any support with the pre-tastings, I’m happy to lend a hand.

Strewth! It’s been over a year since my last guest blogger post. Up this time is the relatively new kid on the block blogger on My Grape Escape, Eamon Fitzgerald.

Where did your love affair with wine begin?

It was the hot summer of ’04 and I was wondering how best to spend the holiday months after my first year of college. Working a crab shack on a J-1 in Rhode Island didn’t exactly appeal to me, and I hadn’t the sense of adventure that my fellow student friends had to inter-rail around Eastern Europe.

To supplement my college degree of Business and French, I decided on something France-y and something wine-y. Sure wouldn’t a month as a vendangeur (grape picker) be ideal? Hot weather, free wine, camaraderie with fellow pickers (who knows, a bit of romance even?), and good honest graft.

And when a place called ‘Latour’ emerged as my destination, I got excited. I had vaguely heard of this great Château Latour, and the prospect of setting foot on its hallowed grounds intrigued me.

Or, was it even something to do with Le Tour de France, the greatest cycling race of them all? Well, I was way off on both counts. Turned out to be ‘Latour-de-France’, a tiny remote hamlet in Southern France. Alas, no majestic castle; no Lance. It forms part of the Côtes du Roussillon Villages appellation, in the wider exciting Languedoc region containing the likes of Minervois, Fitou and Corbières.

Anyway we jet in and after a comical ride in the back of a pick-up truck we are brought to our living quarters – a terrifying abandoned garden on the outskirts of the village. The only facility was a little shed (at least it was something), but upon opening it we discovered our fellow pickers and friends for the month. Three lads and a girl and a dog. Now, Beatriz was a pretty girl, but it was hard to think beyond her mohawk hairstyle, pierced septum and abundant tattoos.

Any budding romantic notions were quashed fairly quickly. The rest of them looked the same. They were squatters and street performers from Barcelona, and similar to Mexican workers converging en masse to the great vineyards of California each harvest season, the iconic hills of Perpignan play host to an invasion of odorous dreadlocked pot-smoking hobos each September.

I’m sure they had equal doubts about four clowns from South County Dublin in their rugby jerseys and havanianas. After the initial culture shock they turned out to be really fun and interesting people, and it put our initial misconceptions and judgments to shame.

And so we were put to work. The local regulations stipulated that no watering, fertilisers and pesticides could be exercised on the vines, and all picking must be carried out by hand. I think this was borne out of necessity more than any sort of quality control, due to the terrifying steepness of some of the vineyards, and the arid rocky barrenness of others.

Natalie, our boss, owned lots of land under vine, but worked for the local co-operative, which each day specified which variety of grapes to be picked according to ripeness, sugar/acidity levels, weather conditions, le horoscope, mood, what the dog thought, and so on.

So each morning after we rose around 6 it would be a frantic rush to pick whatever Carignan, Syrah, Grenache, Mourvèdre, Merlot, Chardonnay or Muscat that stood in our way. Pretty straightforward work – you have a pair of secateurs (hand pruners) and you cut the bunches of grapes at the stem, letting them fall into the bucket underneath the bush.

Unfortunately, the bush is usually about the height of your midriff, which was too low for standing and too high for squatting. I developed unusual bulging muscles in my lower back akin to a baboon as a result of an awkward stand/squat posture for a month. As your bucket filled every couple of minutes you would empty it to the porteur who would pass by saying ‘Allez, Vide!’ (‘Empty up!’). However this was repeated every 2 minutes for 9 hours a day, 6 days a week, for a month.

So by the 6,480th time José asked me to ‘Allez, vide!’, I was most definitely on the brink of hacking him to pieces with my little secateurs.Seriously though, grape picking gives you a unique appreciation of the pain and effort that goes into producing that bottle of wine that we enjoy so frivolously.

Quel désastre!

One day Natalie misread the blackboard in the co-operative and we mistakenly picked the grapes of several vineyards that turned out to be unripe and therefore useless. The whole lot had to be dumped, and the image of Natalie, sitting on a rock, devastated, with her head in her hands, still sits clearly in my mind.

Another disaster occurred when a pair of secateurs went missing (they would be regularly counted). It was assumed that they must be have been left in a bucket and subsequently thrown into the back of the truck, so they couldn’t be sold to the cooperative (a pair of metal secateurs would be enough to break the whole crushing machine), and again the whole lot had to be dumped. Natalie’s strength in these times was admirable, as was her constant drive and encouragement of us as energy and spirits often sagged.

A full month of this work was tough, and you had to ignore the fact that as far as the eye could see, in all directions, there were masses of vines bulging with ripe fruit to be picked. We would advance along in lines picking the grapes, and now and again if your neighbour was lagging behind you’d jump onto their row and help them out, and they would do likewise to you if you were struggling. Go team!

Overall though, playing a part in the making of red, white, rosé and vin doux naturel wine, and witnessing each stage in the production of wine from the vine to the glass was pretty cool.

Here are my highlights and lowlights.

Highlights

• Syrah – I will always love wine containing the Syrah/Shiraz grape – a real pleasure to work with. Always on handy trellised vines and in beautiful, elegant long bunches that came off in one snip.
• Muscat – the only grape that was actually tasty when peckish. And nice big bushes that you could hide behind for a good cry when needed
• Sundays – the day off. And the day that you could order a roasted chicken from the village shop. Heavenly
• Vine wood – we thieved lots of stacked wood from a neighbouring farm and made fires with it. It was the dried wood of really old vines and it turned about to be amazing for cooking. The grapey flavour on the meat from the smoke and wood was simply delicious.

Lowlights

• Grenache – terribly difficult grape – on a low bush with grapes dotted all over the place, making it painstakingly slow to pick, and bastarding thorns making life even more difficult
• Cutting yourself – not referring to suicidal thoughts when the work became all too much, but the constant nips and cuts you’d get when mistaking a stem for a finger. The pain when the red grape juice seeped in was excruciating. The relief was great when you moved on to white grapes and its juice would wash it clean
• Bee hives – one day I mistook a fat bunch of Merlot for a bee hive. Dire results
• Bedtime – as the physicality of the work took its toll, sleeping in a tent and on the hard ground was tough. As was nipping out for a pee at night, terribly spooky
• Nature – incidents with wild boars, snakes and ghosts were all recorded.

When Lar asked me to do this guest blog I jumped at the chance to join the big boys; the Christopher Giffords, Paul Kiernans and Kevin Ecocks of this world who had walked tall before me on this column.

So like any wheeler-dealer Premiership manager I hunted around for my marquee signing; my signal of intent to the Irish wine blogosphere. I had returned to Latour-de-France a year after my experience while on a family holiday and purchased some of the wine that I’d personally contributed to making, and luckily I still had a couple of bottles of red lying around. So how did it taste 6 years on?

“Les Gravières” Côtes du Roussillon Villages 2004

Dark garnet in colour showing indication of age. Disappointing nose with very little fruit, maybe a whiff of cherry, with stony mineral tones dominating. Where was all that bloody Carignan I picked?

Very dry palate was devoid of any fruit, I detected faint liquorice and herbs but I was really clutching at straws at this stage. No trace of a month’s supply of blood, sweat and tears. Disappointing, but expected given its age.

Still, 10/10 for effort.

Thanks, Eamon.

Eamon blogs over at mygrapeescape.ie

This fanaticism, though comic and for some a little strange, is a common aspect in the production, consumption and critical analysis that surrounds the wines of much of North America.

In particular focus, however, is one place and in North America it is the USA and in the USA it is California.

California

Here, the rest of the world has watched researchers at esteemed universities develop new theories, agricultural programmes, uncover long forgotten vine varieties and work out the best way for wineries to produce the finest elixir from the earth’s resources; here, the mythical role of the winemaker has been promulgated more than anywhere else outside of Bordeaux; here, a growing public base of support for boutique wineries has seen an almost cult-like following of different districts of wine production the like of which has only been witnessed in the following of Grand Cru Classe Medoc or the Garagiste offerings from St. Emilion and Pomerol.

Fanaticism about Californian wine is like so many things in America, Full On. You can’t say you’re a fan of Californian wines unless you’re on the mailing list of at least half a dozen wineries and on the waiting list for half a dozen more. If you’re not, then you’re just not as in to wine as the others. The “others” know all about the soils and particular blend proportions of each of the releases from all of the wines that they subscribe to and can name these variables accurately for all of last decade’s releases. It’s true; these people exist. And they have normal jobs, too.
The USA has had a chequered past in relation to wine as it has had to all alcoholic produce. Notwithstanding this North American wines are the most important in the world, outside of Europe. Italy and France vie for volume of wine produced each year, followed by Spain and then the USA.

With big movement in Canada and Mexico, the dominant wine producing areas may move sharply from the current proximity to the zero degree Greenwich line, to the west.

The questions from the wine consuming public will largely focus on price, quality and the relation between the two. Stylistic differences and the fanatic attention to detail and nuance in one Cabernet to the next might entertain at a growing number of dinner parties, but the key to economic success and development for the continent is in lower priced wines and in making them seem better value and better quality than all of their international competitors.

A brief history of the vine in the USA

This is the key country for North America and has had, as mentioned above, an extraordinarily tricky and at times impossible journey to the production that we witness today. European vines arrived to the East coast with the Pilgrim Fathers. Success was nonexistent as the vines all but died due to harsh winters and muggy summers. But not all was lost.

Vines already existed in the USA: at least a dozen varieties of the vitis species are unique to the continental America, where Europe has only one. What happened was that when the Vinifera strain arrived via not-so-abstemious Pilgrims it bred with various strains of other vines, Labrusca, Rupestra and others to create the oddest new hybrid varieties that even today are described as “Foxy”

Phylloxera: The American vine saves European wine

So, these were nover going to set the world alight, but they did show one thing to the east coast settlers: something about American vine varieties made them resistant to the damaging elements that ravaged the European vines. But they didn’t work out what it was until the mid-to-late-1800s when the Phylloxera crisis in Europe was solved by the grafting the heads of European vines onto these American rootstockmaking them hardier to weather conditions and resistant to Phylloxera.

Thomas Jefferson

Now another influential point in the development of US wines was the Presidency of Thomas Jefferson. He was a wine nut! And in the middle of the 1850s the first shoots of commercial winemaking were being seen.

Cincinnati Ohio, famous for a one-time former Mayor (Jerry, Jerry…), Jerry Springer was famous then for the production of sparkling wine. Across the country, from the east to the Rockies, wine was spreading. Then came the Civil war.

Franciscans

In the West, wine arrived via a more direct and experienced group of hands – the Franciscans. Moving up the coast from Mexico to Baja California, the wine-savvy monks brought peace and harmony via a variety of European varieties that had none of the difficult conditions that he east coast had to contend with.

It would have seemed that the US has found an amazing place for vines. By the time the sparkling wine production in Ohio was growing, vines in California were all over the place producing European styles. So there were two wine industries either side of the Rockies operating quite independently of each other.

Then at the end of the 19th century the Americans had to deal with Phylloxera, blights of mildew and some other infections.

Prohibition

But none of these problems were anything like the change of Federal policy with regarding the consumption of alcohol. The effects of which are still felt today.

If you think that other countries like New Zealand an have odd relationship with alcohol – only sold in supermarkets since 1999 – the attitude of Americans to alcohol is even stranger.

Damned by obtuse and obstructive legislation, unnecessarily complex organisation of the trading of alcohol and a vilifying suspicion towards those consumers of even the smallest amounts of “likker”, has for a long time been the upward facing hill that the industry has had to battle.

The semi-religious convictions that alcohol is bad, hmm kay, and that those that drink are a little loose and not to be trusted are part a frighteningly large number of normal American’s make up.

Fighting this is a difficult task. Pressure groups and lobby set-ups are rife with right-wing neo-conservative scientific surveys showing the damaging effects of alcoholic consumption that no one can seem to argue against.

French Paradox in the USA

But in the same way that all of us in Europe just knew that voting Democrat was the right choice, attitudes were fixed. Until they used the same weapon as the Self-righteous preachers, the TV.

In late 1980s a short TV program was broadcast called The French Paradox, which charted the relationship between the French way of life and their diet. How is it that they can all eat and drink so well and be happy? Precisely because they eat and drink so well, and this was the key turning point in the US for wine consumption.

What is odd, given the negative status of alcohol, is that wine is produced in each of the 50 states of the USA. From weird pockets of native varieties in Colorado to exceptional sparkling wines in New Mexico and distinctly European styles in New York and the Hamptons, there is a world of wine in one country.

Buying the stuff

Purchasing wine can be impossible. Literally, some counties are ‘dry’ and the purchase of any liquor is banned. Most ironically, the county in Tennessee where Jack Daniel’s distillery is based is one such dry county. The importing is also odd. There is a triple separation of powers. One company can import wines, another can buy these from the importer and sell them to a retailer or restaurant, and then the retailer and restaurant can sell them to the public. Not one of these companies can be owned by the other. Phew.

Back to Californy

Let’s have a real look at the key player, California. A massively varied set of types, geographical and meteorological, California produces ninety per cent of the wine in USA.

Far from vineyard perfection the regions are subject to the dreaded and currently incurable threat of Pearce’s disease and are much more concerned by proximity to sea than degrees of latitude; the sea air and rolling fog plays havoc with ripening seasons.

Much of the state is considerably warmer than European regions, though some very fine areas are close to the sea, such as Sonoma and Napa.

The San Joaquin (or Central) Valley is very, very hot and though some aim for dry farming, it is never a realised goal: irrigation, though expensive, is increasingly essential.

Terroir versus alchemy

Some winemakers are single vineyard fans whilst others look for good grapes from wherever and look to the winery for alchemy. Fashion is perhaps unsurprisingly important in California and trends are powerful things: denser planting, increased use of varietal clones, more foliage covering, late harvests and a concerted effort and drive to find the right sites for specific grape varieties are all trendy features, fine, but it is amazing that these opinions are nearly universally held and aspired to by the majority of wineries and vine growers.

But that’s not to be unexpected and it isn’t entirely undesirable, as there is now concrete proof that Pinot Noir is perfect in Carneros, Zinfandel is perfect in Dry Creek and Cabernet is perfect in the middle of the Napa valley.

About Christopher Gifford

Christopher works in The Corkscrew, in Dublin.

Talk about Recession makes me thirsty.

I really hate to say it but, Been There : Done That. Ecock Wines and Spirits set up in the early 1980′s. Our first venture was a small off licence in a new development on Newtownpark Ave in Blackrock. We had no competition. Come to think of it we had no customers either! 

Back then, in the old old days, the term recession wasn’t used. Times were hard or hardy depending on who you were speaking to. I had no friends who could claim to have made pots of cash and none who expected to. 

Wine was something exotic and unless you sold beers and spirits for a low marginal return you just didn’t enter the business.

Interest rates soared to 18%. The Middle East was in tatters and black spectacle frames were still the norm.

Now we are in recession; I have loads of mates who have made gazillions and hope to hang onto them, wine is main stream, interest rates are low and spectacle frames are fashion statements. Is there a problem?

We survived the eighties. Why can’t y’all do the same now? Well, that’s a stupid thing to say. The eighties in the wine trade was a voyage into the unknown. It was hard work with managed expectations.

The Irish wine trade today is far more valuable and employs a lot of good people who have legitimate designs on a lifelong career.

It’s a healthy trade and needs to be protected from the ravages of Recession. How to do?

For the Trade:

• Reduce stocks back to the good stuff
• Good stuff means good wine with a healthy margin
• Educate staff to sell
• Selling means to be seen to be on the side of the customer.
• Get modern and enjoy the trade
• I am sick to death of wine trade people who are having noooo fun
• Twitter www.twitter.com/firstpress.com and Blog www.firstpress.blogspot.com
• Drink Sagrantino di Montefalco
• Explore Argentina
• Work hard, play hard and always have a new good idea

For the Punter:

• Don’t give up
• Haggle
• Don’t buy on price
• Explore – it’s supposed to be an adventure
• Drink Tasmanian Wines
• Always be as good as your next good idea

Anyhow, as soon as the eighties were over we opened Ireland’s first Wine Only store in the George’s Street Arcade.

What did we learn from the eighties?

Well, our new store had no competition. Come to think of it we had no customers either! 

Visit Kevin Ecock’s websites

• Free Running with Kevin Ecock (the blog)
• KevinEcock.ie
• Follow Kevin on Twitter

Hi, Sour Grapes readers! I’m Paul J. Kiernan – you may remember me from such blogs as The Grapes of Sloth, and Diary of a Cork Gigolo.

Lar at Sour Grapes has been kind enough to ask me along to do a guest spot, and I’m delighted to do it.

Enowine

I was down in Monkstown this afternoon and I dropped into Enowine. Amazingly, this was the first time in my four years living in Dublin that I’ve visited them.

Enowine is the company that patented and disseminated that in-shop tasting system. O’Briens, The Beacon, (my local!) also has it. I think that’s it? They don’t want to devalue the brand, the shop assistant was telling me. Intriguing – why sell more when you can sell less?

There was a guy working there who’s in my WSET Diploma class (a year ahead though). Out-the-door went the Chablis and Shiraz plans – I knew I needed to choose something to ROCK HIS WORLD.

Argus eyed, I shuffled round the bins, taking care not to even glance at the Marlborough Sauvignon or the Cotes-du-Rhone. Then – BOOM! – this amazing chick walked past.

After she was gone, I got down to business and I zoned in on a red and a white, both from Italy. Well, one was actually from Italy and the second was of Italian descent.

1. Skok / Zabura, Tocai Friulano, Italy, 2007. €17.50

You probably haven’t heard of it, but Tocai Friulano is Friuli’s most widely planted white grape. Friuli is an Italian province in the North-East, close to Slovenia. This variety is no relation to Hungary’s sweet wine. Also known as Sauvignonasse or, less commonly, Vert. If you’re looking to impress someone in the synonym game, you know which version to go for!

Slight, pleasant spritz. Lively and youthful. Honey, pineapple, almond. Very characterful and easy-to-enjoy. 8/10

2. Valbona, Bonarda “Reserva”, San Juan, Argentina, 2006. €17.50

Bonarda has only recently been surpassed by uber-grape, Malbec, in Argentinean plantings. Back in il stivale, it is known by a bewildering array of synonyms; only a die-hard masochist would attempt to understand it all.

Super-rich, with a serious acidic bite. Lots of oak, chocolate-raspberry, bitter cherry and prune. A real mouthful – have some hardcore red meat to accompany this. 7.5/10

I couldn’t be bothered going to Superquinn to gather food to prepare a bespoke meal to match these fine wines. I created a field blend dish instead, utilising only what I had in my presses.

Mouton de Paul

As the leg of lamb was thawing in the sink, I created a lip-smacking sauce of olive oil, minced garlic, anchovies, mirin, crushed coriander seeds and cumin. I slathered that messy marinade over the defrosted meat, and roasted it with fresh peppers on a bed of coriander… and cut-potato-chips in Maldon sea salt and truffle-infused olive oil. It was as good as it sounds and the Bonarda, in particular, paired perfectly with the roasted meat.

I threw the remains of the lamb over the balcony for my sometime-semi-tame fox. He has a limp since the February snows and I’m worried I’ve made him stoopid by feeding him for the past 18 months. Maybe I’ll bring him to Cork with me?

I’m not sure of the legalities of transporting wild animals but, to borrow the logic of the French AC system, if it isn’t forbidden, it must be permitted.

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