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I learned so many cool facts about the Bordeaux wine-making process while I was in France, that I have decided to dedicate a separate blog post (almost) purely to the enlightenment of all you novices. You can thank me later.
Overview
The Bordeaux wine region is made up of 5 geographic sub-regions: Medoc, Graves/Sauternes, Entre-Deux-Mers, St. Emilion/Pomerol, and Bourg/Blaye.
Within these 5 sub-regions, 57 different "appellations," or types of wine are produced. Using the metaphor of the United States once again, let us say that a sub-region is like a region of the United States (like the Northeast, or Mid-Atlantic), and that each appellation is like a state within that region. The only difference is that certain broader appellations, like "Bordeaux Superieur," can be grown in more than one region.
Confused yet? No worries, I'll explain further. The appellation system was put in place to ensure quality control. As you may know, Bordeaux wine producers are a pretty snooty and elitist group of people, and they got a bit peeved when a bunch of hillbillies from California and Australia started putting the name "Bordeaux" on their wines, just because it was red and tasted decent. For the foreigners, it was an excuse to raise prices, but for the French, it was an insult to a long-standing tradition of excellence. And so, they created the Institut National des Appellations d'Origine (INAO) to control wine production and naming. Only wines produced within a certain distance of the Gironde estuary can call themselves "Bordeaux wines," which are then further classified based on their specific appellation. This is what separates a "Graves" from a "Sauternes" from a "Cadillac."
There are many different types of soil and climates throughout the Bordeaux region. "Why?" you may ask...because the whole place used to be under the Atlantic. When the world warmed after one of those ancient Ice-Age things, the ocean receded and left a sandy, gravelly Bordeaux region high and dry and primed for wine. Depending on how sandy or rich, or acidic the soil is, and depending on the climate (relative humidity, average dew point, and other topographically-related variants), each tiny region is given its appellation. Hopefully that makes a bit of sense.
Beyond each individual appellation, the singular unit of wine production is the Chateau, or vineyard. Each Chateau has its own vines and its own facilities to extract, age, and mix the grape juice, and most Bordeaux wines are bottled on site. Before bottling, professional tasters (called "cellar masters") go through the basic grape juices and rate them for their taste. Different types of wine call for different varieties of grapes (e.g. Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec, Cabernet Franc, etc.). They then decide what will be added to the grape juice to best take advantage of its natural tastes. These additives produce the subtle textures and undertones that make each vintage unique. Some popular additions to the grape juice are blackcurrant, cherry, plum, citrus, flowers, caramel, chocolate, and almost anything else you can think of. It's always a challenge to identify all of the tastes that are in each bottle. When you look at a bottle of wine, the label will normally read as follows: Chateau Name, Variety (Cab Sauv, Merlot, etc.), Control/Quality Designation (Where it was made), Vintage (year), Maker, and then alcohol content falls somewhere at the bottom.
When you are about to taste a fine wine, there is a procedure that you must follow. First, you look at the color. Because it's pretty. Then you get down to business. You raise the glass to your nose (I'm really good at this part) and sample the first bouquet. This will give you the dominant flavor of the wine. Next, you must swirl the wine in the glass, which oxidizes the liquid and releases some of the more subtle aromas. This smell is called the "second nose." After the second nose, you may take a sip, allowing the wine to wash over your tongue for a moment. At a professional wine tasting, you would be compelled to spit the wine out at this point, but that's really not any fun.
Fun Facts:
-Bordeaux is divided into the right bank and the left bank by the river Gironde. On the left bank the soil is more sandy, and more Cabernet Sauvignon grapes are grown, producing drier, more tannic wines. On the right bank, the soil is more clay-based, which allows for Merlot grapes to be grown and mellower, sweeter wines to be produced.
-Bordeaux experiences both morning and evening mists due to a small, very cold river that runs through the region, called La Ciron. This is good for the grapes because irrigation is not permitted.
-Grapes are normally harvested gradually, rather than all at once. This is because a small fungus referred to as "the noble rot" eats away at the grapes and causes them to ferment a bit on the vine. The longer the grapes stay on the vine, the sweeter they become and the more alcohol they will contribute to the wine.
-White wine is best served between 8-10 degrees Celsius.
-Some Chateaux have two labels: one fancy, pricier label, and one more-affordable label.
-Growing grass, and even rose bushes, between the rows of grape vines has become common practice because the competing roots cause the grapes to shoot their own roots deeper into the soil, which allows them to get at water supplies further beneath the surface.
-People don't squish grapes with their feet in France. It's just not done.
I'm sure that there's some things that I've missed or explained inadequately, so if anyone has any questions, feel free to shoot me an email. I will conclude this blog post with a piece of flash fiction, which is basically a really really short story. I've been trying the genre out in my fiction class and I think it's kind of neat to play around with. If anyone is curious about flash fiction, here's the wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flash_fiction
You don't even have to look it up yourself.
This piece is called The Last Draw. Enjoy!
Buster placed the harmonica to his mouth and pulled air through it, an inverse sigh. As the four-five draw rose above the old Northwest Rail Line, he sucked harder, bending it down a mournful half-step. The sound ran out and was not echoed. Harp players call it “the train,” but there would be no more trains running on the Northwest line, no more trains leaving town—Buster had missed the last one by five minutes. When he had peered after the disappearing trail of smoke that morning, he saw the caboose disappearing around the bend with a spot of yellow on the back that he could only imagine was his wife in her faded sun dress. Defeated, he turned and dragged his feet in the opposite direction; a dearly-paid-for pack of smokes formed a lump in his jacket pocket.
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