Waking Up the Grapes w/Kirk Venge and Elvis

I woke up today at 6:30AM to get the first pick of the season with Napa’s resident Pluck Meister – Kirk Venge and his posses of pickers. I was dubbed an honorary picker for the day, though I am angling for life-long picker status.The grapes, those lazy-bum-slackers, didn’t start to “wake up” until about 9:30/10ish. To their credit, once they did finally wake up they glowed and oozed of the sweetest sexiest juice you’ve ever smelt or tasted. And yes, grapes are sexy at any time of the day, unlike us human folk. I guess the grapes, like my former city self need a good night’s sleep in order to perform (performance=delivering bang up juice for some of the pluckiest wines in the world) at their peak. By the time the grapes woke up and joined the party we had already plucked 5 tons of those rolly polly suckers and the morning was still young. We were able to move that many mounds of grapes despite the Pluckster's tussle with Elvis, his S.O.B of a 4-wheeler. At the crack of dawn Elvis went all “rock-king” ego-manic, by attempting to show The Pluck Meister (Kirk Venge) who was boss, by tossing him in an end-over the handle bars. King of the Grapes Venge soon went on to show Elvis that the King of Rock is dead now. All I heard was “Elvis is coming at me!”. I saw the buggy flipped to its side and Kirk standing on all 4s. He, like a very good cat, landed on his feet with a smile. Elvis did not look so hot. He got a swift kick in the tires and finally got to work, but was promptly renamed Matilda. She offered a smooth and stable ride through the grape fields as we picked and plucked like there was no tomorrow. She became our chariot out in the field, hauling grapes to the people. The Pluck Meister’s wine phone rang no less than 30 times during our pickfest, all before the average Joe had even bothered to get out of bed. I trust I have wet your whistle enough to get out of bed and get yourself a glass of wine. I’m gritty, grimy, sweaty and sweet all at the same time. One lick confirmed that I taste good today. I blame it on the grapes. That’s all for now folks. Tomorrow will be another day of wine country heaven, a breed like no other. You haven’t lived until you’ve plucked a grape and had the insane good fortune of being ensconced in the sweet smell of freshly picked grapes.

Some random bits I learned on the wine trail with Kirk Venge this week

During one of my romps around the grape fields with our resident expert Kirk “the grape meister” Venge I picked up a lot of random bits of info and some wine lingo basics (note to self: buy winemaking for dummies book to get up to speed on the obvious, before my next day in the field). Granted, a lot of this information may be obvious to the rest of the valley and world, but I am pretending we are all wine virgins for today. I am here to impart my new found wine wisdom. Harvest season in these parts is typically from September 1st-November 1st, but subject to change due to weather patterns. Rain, as long as it is gentle enough and not consistent, will not harm the grapes, but it will slow things down in getting the suckers to a state of readiness for plucking. I am still a bit bitter about not getting to pick yet. I learned that wine is all about patience. I have none so I am not sure how much of a career I will have in this biz. White wines are usually prime for the picking earlier than their ruby red counter parts. Kirk and I were collecting lots of baseline samples from all his different vineyards. We also met up with another strapping grape meister from the fine family, Atinori Vineyards. In fetching samples we were darting in and out and around all the different rows of grapes getting random samples. We had to eat those samples and spit out the seeds. A critical part of my assignment in this endeavor was what he called the “5 bite crunch test.” Not 4 crunches not 3, but 5. This gives you the optimal amount of juice and sensation to see where the grapes are in readiness. Then you're supposed to spit out the seeds. I would suck them down because I didn’t want to be wasteful. I suspected that Kirk expected better from me, but being a gentleman he let my dalliances slide. I’m not sure what exactly I was looking for as I crunched. One grape tasted better than the next. Nothing made me gag because of tartness or vomit because of grossness. I would say that from a laywoman’s point of view all of these grapes were prime and almost ready for greatness. I told Kirk as much. He seemed to value my opinion, or maybe he was just being polite. Other miscellaneous information that I found fascinating. Brix. Brix signify how much sugar is present in the grapes. Never enough in my book being a sweet fiend. Apparently, per the Grape Meister there is a sweet spot in brix which also impacts the alcohol content. If I were to ask my parents’ opinion they would say “there can never be too much alcohol in our wine!” 20-25 brix is nice for whites. I think. I hope I wrote down that stat correctly. If it is not accurate, blame the wine reporter not the source. The average life span of a grape vine is approximately 25 years but there are old vines that live on almost to eternity. If only I could live the life of a vine. I would be revered forever. When you are lucky enough (good god how did I get here!) to charge your arms into a fermenting tank you will feel like you have ended up in heaven. It is cool in there and as the grapes and their juice envelop your arms, it is better than the most expensive mud bath arm massage (sorry Calistoga – it is). I thought about jumping into the fermenting tank and taking a nap, but Kirk stopped me before I did so. Not on his watch. I may return when the sun goes down. The tank looked a lot like a small hot tub from the outside. It smelled super fine too. That’s all for now folks. My plucky pal Kirk and his cronies continue to mine the grapes as if they were diamonds. Waiting for the perfect pick. I plan to be there when it happens. Night or day and even during happy hour if need be. I am just that committed. To hell with diamonds being a girl’s best friend. That is so nineties. Grapes and the wine they produce will now and forever be this girl’s best friend. Wacky WineSense rating for my day in the life: 5 Damn Good Grapes, and then some!

Ditch the road bikes and pedal "cruise" style

Whether you’re visiting, new in town or a bona fide locale I challenge you to take the beach cruiser challenge. The standard bike varietals (mountain, road, anything with gears) are almost as common as the grapes in these parts. But in touring the wine country by beach cruiser (limited to no gears, comfy fat seats and high handle bars) you’re granted the true wine co experience. Wine aside the most remarkable thing out here is the view. One grape after another, vines large and small are bubbling all over the place. Tall and sprightly, aged and craggy, and the virgins. Whether you're into the flats or pedal pushing through the rolling hills, you’ll miss out on it all if you’re biking or driving too fast. So ditch the limos and standard fare cycles and motorized scooters and opt to cruise through the Valley in scene grabbing style. As you sweat your way up and over these magical humps and bumps of wine gold you’ll witness greatness in the making with every puffy peddle stroke. Glorious! Bike rentals and purchase: Calistoga and St. Helena.