The Vintners Voice

    I was sorry to have missed Clark Smiths appearance at the Portland Indie Wine Festival.  By reading his most recent post on his blog GrapeCrafter ( http://www.grapecrafter.com ), I was even more sorry.  In a post titled "Yest innoculation- Threat or Menace " Clark throws a long bomb into the Community of Wine.  He points out that there seems to be a bias against the use of cultured yeasts by wine critics, writers and consumers and tries to make the argument for their use.  The gist of his argument is that: 1). the imprint of  cultured yeast on wine is quite minimal, 2).  the use of cultured yeasts minimizes the development of microbes that DO have an imprint on the wine.   This was all discussed in the framework of 'Natural' wines.

    There is a commonly held opinion that 'native' or 'wild' yeast fermentations somehow express 'terrior' while cultured yeasts somehow destroy it.  Mr Smith then turns the argument to the age old one of 'what is terrior'.  Like Clark, I agree that cultured yeasts leave a minimal imprint on wines and that 'place' is much more resilient  than wine critics would have us believe.  I, and I suspect Clark too, is tired of people defining terrior as a wine that smells earthy.  I hear it all the time, someone sticks their nose into some wine that clearly has a flaw and declares that the wine shows terrior.  I suspect that Clark is frustrated with people mistaking the band aid character of Brett or the toasty funky hints of pediococcus or the blue cheese tones of lactobacillus as 'terrior'.  I know for  a fact that I am.  

    I have stopped using the word 'terrior' precisely because it means so many things to so many people.  What it means to me is that a wine reflects the place it was grown, that the unique combination of geology and geography that defines every vineyard is expressed in the wine, that a wine has a 'sense of place'.   There is nothing unique about aromas and flavors generated by spoilage microorganisms.  Let me be clear:  in my opinion, in order for a wine to express place it must be clean!  So I can see how Clark might be frustrated by the prevalent attitude about 'terrior' and the bias against things that are wrongfully perceived to destroy it.

    However I do not take Clark's stance on the menacing nature of 'wild' or 'native' yeasts, not completely.  I do agree that there is considerable risk in allowing these yeasts to conduct fermentations.  I would however point out that each cultured yeast was itself, at one time, a wild yeast.  It was simply selected for because it had beneficial properties and was propagated  to become a cultured yeast.  Therefore, I believe, there is nothing inherently wrong with these 'wild' yeasts.

    I employ what I call 'spontaneous' fermentations exclusively in my Pinot Noir, that is I allow the yeasts living in my winery or vineyard to ferment my wines.  These yeasts perform very well, in fact the only problems with stuck fermentations or microbial spoilage I have had have been in wines fermented with cultured yeasts. I do think that these yeasts do impart a unique character to the wines, as would any yeast, but never to the point of dominating the characters I believe are the result of 'place'.  I go to great lengths to prevent the development of spoilage microbes that would otherwise destroy this sense of place, as many winemakers do.  I simply find that using native yeasts works well for me.

     Part of the appeal of cultured yeasts is the degree of 'control' they allow a winemaker to exert.  They allow winemakers, with the help of a variety of tools, to more fully shape a wine.  The use of ever increasing technology, cultured yeasts included, allow winemakers to, like god, create wines in their own image.  I have heard california winemakers say that by manipulating vines with irrigation they can choose thier harvest date months in advance.  All of these things no doubt have led to an overall increase in wine quality and should be considered a good thing.  Why wouldn't a winemaker embrace these technologies?

          Because someone has to do things the hard way.  Someone has to explore the greatest rewards that only come by assuming the greatest risks.  I don't want winemaking to be easy, I don't want it to be predictable.  Like a craftsmen working with period tools; a blacksmith with only fire and hammer, a carpenter with only hand powered tools, I approach my work.  Not because there is no other way but because it is the way that feels most right.