Desperate Wine for Disparate Measures
Growing up with apprenticing Italian parents and relatives around me, I would track the passage of time with the different meats that would be cured, sauces that were jarred, and the most important seasonal marker of all- the preparation of wine. Unfortunately, in the span of the last 20 years my father and many uncles have passed on, and in always desiring to preserve our artisanal culinary traditions and learn them for future generations, I've found myself seeking every immediate opportunity to learn a new tradition. Historically, it was my father's side of the family that mentored me in learning our artisanal traditions. However, this past summer, as I drove around my neighborhood and kept spotting popup grape retailers nestled in the corners of grocery store parkinglots in my Toronto suburb, I decided to reach out to my uncle (my mother's brother) who over the past year has graced me with some of his amazing homemade wines. He agreed to venture into wine-making explorations with me, even though he's a seasoned homemade wine producer himself. He knew that any partnership with me would mean exciting experimentation into the unknown culinary world.
So we pooled our resources and ordered 5 cases of barbera grapes and 5- 20 L pails of barbera must. I pushed for the fresh grapes, and we decided that in our second year of making the wine we'd evolve to using only grapes. The benefit of grapes in wine-making is the added color that occurs when the wine comes in contact with the grape skins. I like a nice dark colored wine myself. It prepares me for the full body, massive tannin that I typically enjoy in my wines. All in all, a $350 tab for the grapes and must left each of us with approximately 60 L of wine.
This is the set up for my uncle's aging wines. These demijohns in his cellar date back to 2010.
Step #1: We washed the grapes and pulled the grapes off of the stems, sorting out the rotten ones and dropping the quality grapes into a big blue basin. When the grapes were sorted, the must was then poured into the basin, and then I jumped in, feet first, crushing the grapes under my feet, between my toes, for a good 45 minutes.
An image of me crushing the grapes in the big blue vat.
Once the grapes were sufficiently crushed, the juice was siphoned into demijohns and any residual grape skins were scooped out of the vat and passed through the grape press where any extra juices were extracted. Three months down the road, my wine has been transfered three times (every 30 days or so) into new demijohns, all the while being stored in a warm place for fermentation to take place. The process ensures the residue is separated from the fermenting wine, bringing more clarity and color to the wine in the process. After the third transfer, my demijohns of wine were moved into my cold cellar, where the fermentation process slows down, and where the wine will now sit for a few months until it is sufficiently mature for drinking (usually 6 months suggested).
Having given the wine a taste before storing it in the cold cellar or cantina I can honestly say that for a first run at homemade wine, it's on its way to becoming a much appreciated table wine in this household. Give me three months' time and I will be able to describe to you both the nose and palate on Casa Capuani's first wine batch, 2012 vintage!
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