In San Martin, Juan Carlos de la Torre, an oenologist who makes organic wine from his own grapes, opens a vat to check the fermentation process in his backyard.
We went to San Martin to visit a maker of conserves. Instead, we had a surprise tasting “tour” of a backyard winery.
Adriana laughs, “These things happen in Argentina.”
Mendoza is known for its delicious conserves, a tradition begun by the Italian immigrants who came here in the 19th century. Tomato sauce, pickled peppers and eggplant, figs in almibar (sugar syrup), jams of locally grown peaches and membrillo (a.k.a. quince), are just some of the delectable preserved fruits and vegetables simmered on kitchen stoves during the harvest season.
But when we arrive at a modest house on the outskirts of town, (named after General Jose de San Martin, who, with Simon Bolivar, freed much of South America from Spain), the conserve-maker, a wild-looking young man with long hair, is too shy to talk with me or even let us into his preserving kitchen. We are only permitted a glimpse through a dusty window of neat rows of jars filled with mixed vegetables cooling on a long table.
I'm broken-hearted. But then his handsome gray-haired father steps into the breach.
Juan Carlos de la Torre is a trained oenologist who, after losing his job with a large winery, decided to make organic wine at home. His wines are made from grapes—Malbec, Syrah, Moscatel—grown in the fields behind his house and fermented in vats in his backyard. Every drop is preservative-free.
Sr.de la Torre uncaps a blue plastic vat so we can look at the fermentation process. The purplish juice of Malbec grapes is seething with bubbles. He dips a glass jar into the vat and offers us a taste of the semi-fermented liquid. It is fresh, fruity and mildly effervescent. True to the flavor of the grapes from which it has been pressed.
Next he opens a black vat filled with, I think, Syrah grapes. He picks up a pison, a pole with flat piece attached to the bottom, stirs the fruit and presses down hard to release the juice.
Eventually the residue will go into this handmade press to extract the last drops.
After fermentation, the wine is placed in these barrels where it ages for three months.
Some of it is sold in metal demijohns, the rest in straw-covered bottles for tourist shops. We buy a bottle as a wedding present for Ricardo, along with two jars of preserved red peppers and peaches. (Later he tells us how delicious they were.)
What’s it like, the life of a small winemaker? Sr. de La Torre thinks for a moment. In the slow, deliberate way that is typical of Mendoza, he replies, “It’s a lot of work, more than when I was working for the big company.” He shrugs: “It’s not an easy life…” Then he smiles: “But I’m free. I can ride my bicycle whenever I want to.”
Later I realize what an unexpected privilege it has been to meet this man and to taste his homemade wine.
For this is wine at its most elemental: wine as the Italians who emigrated to Argentina in the 19th century must have made for themselves, perhaps even as the ancient Greeks and Romans drank it. No hi-tech flavor tweaking, no stainless tanks, no costly French oak barrels used for a few years and then sold for flooring. No marketing campaign, no flowery winespeak.
Just honest wine made from grapes grown over the back fence. Simple, uncomplicated and, on a hot afternoon, refreshing.
The sign on the Peugeot parked outside the winemaker's home offers to transport small groups of grape pickers to farms during the harvest season.
Comments (2)
i love these pictures of these "real people" you capture on occassion. almost a "what the....?" look on his face.
Posted by marie | June 15, 2011 11:46 AM
Posted on June 15, 2011 11:46
Yes, I felt that opening the vat was always an adventure for the winemaker! Fewer controls than at the big guys.
Posted by Courtenay | June 15, 2011 12:22 PM
Posted on June 15, 2011 12:22