November 2023
This is the time of year, after months of slog, to put one’s feet up and do nothing in the vineyard — or at least next to nothing. There is one final biodynamic spray to do: horn manure (BD500) plus a compost mix, all for soil improvement. I pick a day when there is no frost on the ground as this is very important. I mix the manure (just 50 gms) and biodynamic compost (240gm) into 18 litres of water and then spend one hour of stirring, first clockwise and then, after 15 seconds, anti-clockwise. This method of stirring creates a vortex and ‘dynamises’ the mix. And indeed, it does, for after an hour of vigorous stirring the water undergoes an extraordinary transformation with a silky consistency. Petroc Trelawny on Radio 3 keeps me company.
I divide the vineyard into sections and measure the solution out into numerous buckets placed at the top of the vine rows. Then out comes a large paintbrush. I stride purposely down the rows swishing the brush from side to side every 3 metres— that is the range of fall — casting large droplets of the water onto the grass— the same movement as if one were broadcasting seed with an old-fashioned fiddle. One hour later I have covered 2 acres.
November and December are the months of the year for reflecting on the twists and turns of the season. Could I have done better in managing the canopy against disease; a time for general contemplation and of course planning for the next season. I write up the vineyard diary which records the activities, compares the timings of what we did against those in 2022; then plan next year’s winter pruning, and finally check that all the spray records are complete and accurate. Moreover, it is a time for talking leisurely to fellow vignerons about the vagaries of the season. It was without a doubt a terrible year for fruit fly devastation. Next year we will be on guard.
The media hyped the 2023 season forecasting an amazing year with record tonnages, fuelled no doubt by the PR departments of the large wine producers. The print journalists forgot to twig that volume does not always equate with quality. The industry was woefully caught on the wrong foot with a lack of sufficient seasonal workers hired and tonnes of grapes went unpicked. Many wineries found they were scrabbling for extra tanks at the last minute; the WineGB forum advertised lots of folks trying to sell excess grapes as they just had no capacity in the winery to press them.
The vines are beginning to shed their yellow leaves, the atmosphere is damp and the light is dull all day. I cannot wait to get inside close to the warmth of the Aga. Hard to think we were picking grapes just one month ago. This photo was taken on one of those rare and deliciously cold gin-blue days, in contrast to the unremittingly wet and windy conditions that pulsate in from the West. Living in Cornwall must be grim in winter.
I checked in with the winery and all is well. The juice has been ‘racked’, ie transferred to a fermentation barrel at which point the solids are left at the bottom of the tank and then discarded. Daniel will use an overflow steel tank with a moveable lid for topping up the barrels during 2024. We place just 500 litres of our juice in a tank with a capacity of 1,100 litres. Otherwise, it is all oak. The wooden barrels are all carefully marked (last year’s markings are scratched off the hoops with a knife) and then lifted into steel racks. We hold the cuvée (first pressing) and the taille (second) of each grape variety in separate barrels as this gives Daniel enormous flexibility when blending later next year.
Large producers cannot afford this high percentage of oak barrel fermentation — they might use 5% of oak whereas we use 80% — because we can! Small can be beautiful.
We rely on only wild yeasts to get the spontaneous fermentation going. Daniel adds no sulphur nor enzymes, unlike non-organic winemakers. This year we decided to add a small amount of organic sugar to chaptalise the first fermentation.
We have been looking high and low for more second-hand oak barrels from Burgundy. This is the vessel of choice at Offbeat for fermentation as the internal surface softens the acids and allows micro-oxygenation to occur through the staves. There is currently a shortage as Burgundy wineries are saving money by hanging on to older barrels they would normally sell after a certain number of years. 5 years normally (called ‘5-fills’). New oak would be too overpowering for our wine. The price for a second-hand 228-litre barrique with 3-5 fills has doubled in 3 years such that we are now having to pay £500 per barrel. Hugo Stewart of Domaine Hugo — he has great connections in France having lived there for 20 years and running a vineyard in the South —secures a batch of high-quality barrels and Windy Pop piggyback on his order. I go down to Offbeat inspect the new purchases and lovingly glide my hand over the surface. It is like buying a vintage sportscar.
I have leaned heavily this season on my viticulture consultant, David Morris. I count this as the most difficult year to have grown grapes in the last 10 years— the warm and wet conditions were perfect for both downy and powdery mildew. He is a very impressive individual and his knowledge never ceases to surprise me. Like Daniel and Nicola at Offbeat, Dave is thoughtful with bags of integrity. And he makes lovely wine into the bargain —even in wet Wales!
If you ever visit the ruins of Tintern Abbey ( a must), there is a steep vineyard perched on hills above the river Wye. This is one of the vineyards that Dave has taken over from an owner who has decided to retire. I do not blame him, it is hard graft. The vines are well established but they show signs of neglect. We visited this summer. Goodness, what a magnificent view. This could almost be the Welsh equivalent of the famous Hermitage Hill in France, looking down on The Rhône as it snakes its way through the valley bottom. You need to be vigorous and strong in body to tend these vines. Hooves are preferable to shoes.
We are two years ‘in conversion’ to becoming certified as an organic and biodynamic producer. One more year to go. By the end of 2024, we should be cleared to certify our wine as biodynamic and carry the Demeter mark on our bottle label. Apart from one fly in the ointment, that is. I registered with The British Biodynamic Association in late November 2021 although we had practised organic techniques throughout that season. If I had registered in October rather than November — stupid boy— then the harvest of 2021 would have been included in the first year. Demeter is rather inflexible on these matters, but I am hopeful. It is a long journey but a worthwhile one. At least we made the right decision by choosing not to register with The Soil Association. They have a reputation for being dogmatic and inflexible policemen, staffed by rather earnest and inexperienced staff.
Interestingly, the biodynamic movement was founded by Rudolf Steiner, the Austrian philosopher and social reformer, in 1924, a full 20 years before the better-known Soil Association was founded. Both movements had similar concerns surrounding the health implications of increasingly intensive farming and its growing use of artificial fertilisers to increase yields. Both groups feared the negative impact of high nitrogen levels on soil quality. How right they were. Just take the humble carrot. Today’s carrot in the supermarket will have very little nutritional content compared to its forefather of 40 years ago. It may pass muster for a vegetable beauty parade, yet that is about all.
I had a fascinating conversation with Tom Petherick, my biodynamic inspector, this summer on the very subject of fertiliser. He told me that before a single shot was fired in WW1, the Germans and British were already fighting over the vast deposits of guano in South America, so vital was it to the war effort in providing nitrogen, ammonium, etc. Towards the end of the war, a German scientist by the name of Bosch invented a synthetic fertiliser in the laboratory — the very same name behind the Bosch washing machines and their ilk. I occasionally think of him as I unload the dishwasher.