Looking Forward to Harvest

Spring is well underway. You've felt it. I've felt it. You've enjoyed sunny England, very rare rainfall, long sunny sessions at the park (by the way, you should pick up this super delicious deep pink Pet Nat from Cati Ribot for your next outside hang - electric, wild deliciousness full of fresh & candied fruit). The leaves are out, the pollen is lightly choking you on your Lime bike ride home from your friend's barbecue (hey, if you're into that, no judgment here). You get it. It's Spring.

What does this mean for winemakers? Well, the long, slow pace of winter work is over. Being done with work at 5, leaving time to sink into delicious bottles of complex reds by the fireplace (tuck into this deep Northern Rhône Gamay or this affordable, full bodied Barbera) - that's over. It's a very busy time for winemakers. What do they do this time of year? Everything they can to ensure the vine grows in the right way, picking which shoots they want to prioritise, and pruning others. But this time of the year is a race against the speed at which the vine grows. More often than not, it grows faster than you can look after it. 

It's the time of year when you start being able to tell what the vintage will look like. Will it be a cold year (like 2021 - taste the acidity in this delicious saline Riesling)? A hot year (like 2022 - taste the richness and expressivity of this full bodied Alsace Riesling)? Was there frost damage? Did wet conditions favour diseases like mildew? It's a very important moment. 

It's also time to start getting your harvest team ready. Now, what happens at harvest? It's a very good question.

Usually on day one, everyone is arriving, and the excitement is high. You get a mixed group of locals and some who might have traveled from across the globe. Many bottles get opened on the first day -- you're finally around lots of people who are just into wine as you. This year, when I get to harvest, I'd love to drink stuff like this super fruity red and white blend or this aromatic maceration of Pinot Gris by Rietsch. If I'm tasked with going to the cellar to pick a blind bottle for everyone to guess what it is, I might pick this crazy, dry, reductive but delicious Pedro Ximenez or this Chardonnay/Bacchus blend from English winemakers Ham Street -- they're not such typical expressions of their grape variety, which makes them super interesting for a blind tasting.

Then, the first picking day is rough. Our bodies aren't ready for what's coming. It is hardest on the thighs and on the lower back. But the first day is always the hardest (I guess the body gets used to it), physically. 

What then follows is a sequence of days which feel like they're identical copies of each other. Wake up early. Pick. Eat rillettes and drink wine at 10 am (last year at harvest it was usually Les Vrilles, from the winemaker himself). Break for lunch. Another glass of white and a sandwich, or a pasta salad, or a barbecue. Best served with a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon blend - simple, but delicious. More picking. Go home around 4. Feel exhausted for a couple hours. Around 6, apéro. Oh fun fun apéro. You and your harvest pal might have convinced yourselves last night that you'd take it easy tonight. But here we are - someone is opening a bottle of rare aged 2019 Chenin from the Hodgsons and it's looking delicious. Here we go again. Then dinner. In bed by 10, shutting your eyes to a mix of sweet, sweet booze and muscle ache. Wake up at 6. Time to do it all over again.

It's a special time of the year for me. I look forward to it very much. Coming from the big smoke, it's nice to get out there, forget about city life for a bit, meet a group of people and live community life for a week or two. You eat well, drink well, spend time outside and have a lot of fun. If you're lucky, the winemaker might open exceptional stuff too, like an old magnum of Crémant to celebrate the end of harvest. 

Time to go. But look this up, and try to carve time out for harvest. It really is a special time.

Yours truly, Raph