I’ve heard many descriptions from winemakers of what this time of year means to them: grueling, sleepless, exhausting, stressful, and on and on. You see, like April 15th for CPAs, this is the tax season for winemakers; a time when all hell breaks loose at once. Racing back and forth between vineyards, grapes ripening at different rates, birds  wrecking havoc eating fruit, the risk of the weather turning too cold, hot, or wet at any moment, equipment and workers being scheduled and prepared… sorting, crushing, destemming, soaking, pumping, oh my! You get the idea (and I’m not even going to mention the fruit flies). It makes you wonder why anyone would consider winemaking as an occupation at all. 

Well, I’d like to offer a different take on this time of year for a winemaker, albeit from a humble home winemaker. One of the benefits of being a home winemaker is that the scale of your operation gives you more of a chance to stay in-touch with your wine. To nurse it along. To be in tune with every last drop. There are no forklifts, pumps, tractors, or trucks to get in the way. Just you and your wine. That is how this last week has been for me with my 2006 Zinfandel–a truly “zen”-findel experience.

It all started this past Sunday when the grapes were harvested and crushed. Nutrients were added to the must and on Monday night the juice was inoculated with a cultured yeast. The fermentation didn’t bust out of the gates like usual, though. The culprit here was the unusually low temperatures that had cooled the must down to 60° F.  To coax the yeast into multiplying and kicking their voracious sugar-eating appetites into gear, I slowly raised the ambient temperature in my garage up closer to 70° F. This was the first step in reading what the wine was, or in this case wasn’t, doing and making the appropriate adjustments. As the temperature of the must increased, the fermentation slowly started gaining steam.

So how does one know that the fermentation has started? Well, there are several signs to watch out for. The most obvious is the wonderfully sweet fruit and floral aroma produced by the yeast as they gobble up the sugar in the must. I absolutely love this phase of the winemaking process since it makes our garage and a good part of our home smell just like a winery.

Another less obvious sign is the sound of fermentation. Yes, you can actually hear a fully-involved fermentation. Put your ear down close to the must and you’ll hear a chorus of bubbles popping as they struggle to work their way through the mass of skins and pulp that collects at the surface.  These bubbles are actually carbon-dioxide, yet another by-product of the fermentation process.

Still another indication of the metamorphosis from juice to wine is the formation of a “cap” on top of the must. The carbon dioxide released from yeast as they convert sugar into alcohol causes the lighter solid matter to be pushed to the surface. As shown below, this so called “cap” can become quite heavy and solid and will actually float on top of the juice.

An absolutely crucial step in successful winemaking is to re-incorporate the cap back into the juice, often several times each day. There are two main reasons for this. First, allowing the cap to be exposed to air for too long encourages unwanted bacteria and mold to grow in the cap. Obviously a bad thing. Second, and perhaps most important, is that the cap contains the elements of the grapes that impart color and flavors into the wine. Keeping the skins in contact with the juice increases the extraction of those flavors and results in a more complex and rounded wine.

The photo below shows the must after the cap has been broken up and stirred back into the juice. Notice how the surface has dropped about 3-4 inches. This is an indication of how high the cap was riding on top of the juice. The pink bubbles on the surface are a result of more gases being released and air being incorporated into the juice. 

So where are we right now? Well, the BRIX (a measure of how much sugar is in the juice) started at about 25°. As of last night, the BRIX was down to 17° with a cap temperature of 78° and a juice temperature of 75°.  The pace of the fermentation and the temperatures are just right. Most importantly, though, I feel in-tune with this wine as I take in all of its aromas, sounds, textures, and visual cues.