[By Richard Sheppard in Napa Valley, California] It’s not every day I
get to meet a world famous winemaker, but through my friend Kristina King, I was lucky enough to discuss wine production and storage with Bo Barrett of Chateau
Montelena in Napa Country California. Even though there was plenty of wine, sketching, of course, was my primary reason for visiting.
After driving the
familiar Route 128 to Calistoga, and a left on Tubbs Lane, I pass Envy Wines
where Vince Tofanelli bottled his zinfandel a few weeks ago. Up ahead, the sign
for Chateau Montelena appears, and I park beside a thicket of eucalyptus trees.
The view across the estate is
reminiscent of Monet’s Giverny garden paintings — pink peonies, blue columbine
and wild grasses flourish along the banks of a lake, a pair of black swans
gliding effortlessly on its surface. Two Chinese pagodas nestle between weeping
willows, each with its own separate island and zig-zagging bridge. Sunlight
filters through leaves, lighting up the gray stone manor, its two turrets
rising high above the landscape.
Up the staircase is
a courtyard where the building’s facade is fully visible, a castle covered in
vines. As he talks with a cellar worker, Barrett is easy to spot there, a
distinguished man with white hair and soul patch goatee that gives him a rebel
flair.
“Let’s head over to
the cellar,” he tells me.
As we enter the
stone building and walk through a lab and into the tank and barrel room, I tell
him how I worked the 1990 harvest at Robert Mondavi’s cellar, doing pump-overs
and punchdowns. Back then we used air pumps on Robert’s prized Reserve Pinot,
since they were thought to be more gentle on the wine.
“We use electric,”
Barrett counters. “Years ago it was believed that air pumps were gentler, and
therefore better for the wine, but I don’t believe that’s true. In fact, I
think young, fermenting wine can use a good thrashing at that point.”
Some winemakers take
the most gentle approach of all, using gravity to rack the wines by placing one
tank above another.
“All those new tools
are unnecessary,” he says. “Using tools to enhance wine is a passing trend.
Nowadays it’s all about terroir, the flavors of the vineyard, but the
winemaker’s job is still crucial. Some tools will always be needed to enhance
the fruit — oak exposure, blending, racking equipment, and all the other ways
wines are enhanced in the lab.”
The entrance to the
wine caves lies at the back of the cellar. The dampness inside smells of earth
and oak, adding a palpable air of mystery.
“With the newly
blasted caves now in use, the tunnels are half a kilometer in length,” Barrett
says. “They eliminate the need for power hungry and costly refrigeration. If
you look over here, you’ll see water seeping through cracks in the walls. We
allow this to happen, to a certain extent: wine barrels are permeable and when
the air is warm and dry, water and alcohol evaporate. But a cool, damp cellar
helps keep water and alcohol from leaching out of the barrel.”
We follow the narrow
passageway lined with barrels until the cave forks in three directions, each
disappearing into utter darkness. With a flick of a switch, Barrett lights up
one of the corridors and leads us through yet another portion of the maze. At
the end of a passageway, we reach two tall, arched doors. Inside, several rows
of wine barrels are stacked two wide and four high, receding into the distance.
Liquid gold.
“Even though primary
fermentation is over, the wine’s still fermenting when it goes into the
barrels, producing heat,” he says. “We don’t want the aging wine exposed to
that heat, so it gets stored here at the ideal cellar temperature of 61°F.”
This is where the
wine finishes its aging process?
Barrett nods. “From
here it gets blended, then bottled. Hundreds of decisions go into making a
bottle of wine, but it all begins in the vineyard. Let’s take a drive
and I’ll show you what I mean.”
Looping back through
the caves, we exit the cellar for the courtyard, where Bo’s pick-up truck
awaits.
At the far end of
the estate, Bo pulls off the dirt road, into the shade of a giant
oak. Barrett’s vineyards are naturally low yielding because of their rocky
soil types, but dry farming also helps keep the yield low, as does annual crop
thinning.
We stand looking
back toward the winery, past a field of Cabernet grapes Bo says were planted in
1974. “Vineyards need stress to a certain extent to produce great wine,”
he says. “That’s why planting in these soils works so well.”
“We do this
because smaller yields produce more intense, concentrated, and complex wines,”
Barrett says. “We work with nature and the weather to enhance terroir.”
To ensure even
ripening, his crews also monitor the canopy of vines that grow up around each
plant, periodically removing leaves to help sun reach the grapes.
“Running a winery is
a lot like captaining a ship,” he says. “You can’t take man out of terroir.”
There’s that word
terroir again. It keeps coming up, but I believe I’m getting it. The flavor of
the grapes is influenced by the type of soil, weather and amount of water they
receive. In other words, the same Cabernet grape grown in any other region of
the world will produce a different wine.
Then there’s a human
element that affects the quality of the wine, and the importance of storing the
finished wine at just the right temperature and humidity to bring out the best
possible flavors of an aged wine.
Vineyard manager
Dave Vella pulls up beside us, interrupting our conversation, and the two men
start talking shop.
“I’ve got some guys
waiting for me, so I have to go,” Barrett says. “I believe my assistant Jamie
has wine for you to taste in the Chateau.”
“Perfect,” I say. All this wine talk is making me thirsty.
I return to Chateau Montelena several times over the next couple weeks to sketch the cellar, vineyards, and stone chateau. As my painting time at the estate accumulates, I feel like a resident sketch artist documenting the winery’s past. What a pleasure to feel so comfortable in such a singular place, so key in the history of California wine.
