Herbicides make the vineyard look beautiful and pristine. Herbicides create rows of sameness in the vineyard. They create order under the vine. Each plant is lined up like a soldier in a parade. Under each row of grapes are swaths of smoothness; long tracks of weedless dirt that stretch as far as the eye can see. A barren desert of terra firma under green grape vines.
Herbicides are widely used in Long Island viniculture. Many in the industry use the caustic chemicals to kill weeds and other vegetation under the grapevine. They believe the invading weeds are harmful in the vineyard. They contend that they deprive water and other nutrients from the grapevine. But are herbicides really as valuable as some vineyards and wineries say they are? Are they really helpful in producing the best grape to produce the best wine?
Herbicides sprayed early in the season are used to eradicate weeds under the grapevine. Drift from the herbicide sprayer can be carried great distances across the vineyard. The herbicide that was meant to penetrate the soil under the plant can be carried in the air and make contact with the green tissue on emerging grape plants. The herbicide that was meant to kill the undergrowth in the vineyard can easily float across the farm and can kill healthy grapevines.
Herbicides kill everything. They destroy every plant that is sprayed. Beautiful wildflowers and colorful weeds under the vines are completely annihilated. Nothing is left but dry dirt.
North Cliff Vineyards is different. We are one of the vineyards on Long Island that does not use herbicides. We love the biodiversity in the vineyard. We believe weeds can be beneficial to the grapes by providing good insects that help protect the vine. These good insects actually help the grapevine fend off harmful insects that destroy the vine itself.
Another benefit of not using herbicides is the dead weeds and other vegetation provide food for the vines. When these plants are cut and left on the ground in the vineyard, they are providing natural nutrients for the grapes. The herbicides don’t provide that kind of support to the grapevine. At North Cliff Vineyards we believe that this natural cycle produces healthy grapes that are nourished by the cut vegetation that is recycled into the earth. It is probably the reason that North Cliff grapes ripen quicker and have higher sugars than many of the surrounding vineyards.
Are herbicides really necessary in the vineyard? Probably not. The vineyard manager’s job is made a lot easier if he doesn’t have to manually cut the weeds under the grapevine. Spraying herbicide is quick and easy.
Winemakers are always looking to create a better wine. They know that great wine starts with the best grapes. That is why North Cliff Vineyards never uses herbicides in the vineyard. It is hard work to grow a better grape– but the result is a fresher and more natural wine.
So the next time you are driving out east to visit the vineyards on the North Fork of Long Island, take time to observe the countryside. See if you can spot the vineyards that don’t use herbicides on their farm. Look for the colorful flowers and weeds under the canopy of green. Look for the bumble bees that are traveling from flower to flower. Get out of your car to experience the joy of spring and summer. Experience the renewal of life in the vineyard.
A beautiful morning in the vineyard. This is why I love being a Vigneron.
Vigneron or vintner? The term vigneron is a French word that means someone who grows grapes to make their own wine. It’s pretty straightforward. The vigneron does two things– grow grapes and make wine. But you might ask– isn’t that the same as a vintner? It turns out it is not. They are not the same.
The vigneron cultivates the vine in the vineyard and then brings those grapes into the winery to make his or her own wine. According to the French, one is not considered a vigneron if they simply grow grapes and then sell the grapes to a winery. They say the same is true for the winemaker. Just because the winemaker buys the grapes from the farmer to make his special wine doesn’t make him a vigneron.
The term vintner on the other hand is defined in the Merriam-Webster Dictionary as a wine merchant. The word first appeared in the 15th century. It is used to describe someone who makes wine and then sells it.
I am a vigneron. I grow grapes on a beautiful 20 acre vineyard on Long Island and then make North Cliff wine from those same grapes. I am also French– or at least part French. My family was from Alsace– the beautiful wine region in eastern France that borders Germany. As a youngster, I remember my grandmother telling stories about our family in France. How they were forced to speak German in Alsace after the Franco-Prussian War. Those stories were passed down over the generations. My family was forced out of their ancestral home in Alsace in 1870 with my great grandfather being born in Paris later that year.
The German influence in winemaking in Alsace after the Franco-Prussian War had almost permanently disconnected the vignerons of Alsace from the rest of France. Sucrage and Coupage were the two practices used in German winemaking that were not practiced in France. Wines made by adding sugar– and wines mixed with other wines from outside Alsace were not permitted under French law. Adding sugar to wine was definitely something the French did not want or accept.
Why did sucrage become a common practice during the 50 years of German occupation in Alsace? The answer is simple. It appealed to German taste. The wines of Germany at that time were often sugared.
To the French, wine is a serious business.. Not only in the way it is connected to their economy. Wine is part of their national identity. French vignerons have always stressed the links between wine and Frenchness. In the past, drinking wine had been considered a ‘patriotic’ duty and the obligation of every good Frenchman.
Sucrage is a practice used in the United States. Adding sugar to wine is considered harmless and can improve taste and increase alcohol content in the wine. It is basically a secret in the wine world. Wineries don’t advertise to their customers that they add sugar to their wine. There is no law against it in the United States and it doesn’t have to be listed on the label of the bottle. So in most cases consumers never know sugar was added to their wine.
Vintners and Vignerons alike are beginning to prefer lower sugar levels in their grapes. They are asking vineyard managers to pick their grapes earlier in the season. Lower sugar in the grape makes a less potent wine and appeals to a younger generation of wine lovers. As for the French vigneron, it has never been a choice. The grape is ready to be harvested when the vigneron says it is ready to be harvested. He knows the grape harvest varies from year to year as does the sugar level. However, a true vigneron will never add sugar to his wine. It is just not French.
Why is the vineyard manager so undervalued in the wine industry today? It is a question I often ask myself. Afterall, without the vineyard manager to run the farm and grow the grapes there wouldn’t be a bottle of wine for the winery to even sell.
Running a small 20 acre vineyard on the tip of Long Island allows me to wear many hats in the pursuit of making North Fork wine. However, the two most important jobs I have in producing wine are that of the winemaker and the vineyard manager. I perform both jobs at North Cliff Vineyards and ‘there lies the rub’ to quote Shakespeare’s Hamlet. Which job is more important in creating great wine? The farmer who tends the grapes in the vineyard?– Or the winemaker who converts those grapes into wine? Indeed, that is the question!
The vineyard manager pruning vines
In January and February I would call myself a vineyard manager. Afterall, I am pruning the vines in the bitter cold and snow, choosing the best fruiting canes on the plant. I am looking to create perfection and equilibrium on the vine by choosing an equal amount of buds on both sides of the trunk. Like an artist with a sculpture, I take time sculpting each vine in the field.
In March, the vineyard is still cold and barren and I remain in the vineyard working with the selected canes after pruning. I begin to gently twist and tie the canes to the fruiting wire on the trellis system. I am preparing each plant for the first stage of growth in the vineyard. Soon, spring will bring the first shoots on the vine. I will lovingly desucker the non-bearing shoots on the cane that sap the vigor from the fruit-bearing ones.
Jennifer pruning the vines on a cold morning
Summer comes quickly in the vineyard. Plant and animal life come alive during the hot summer months. The vertical wires that help support the bounty of green leaves on the vine need to be supported by “levage”, the French term for lifting the wires on the trellis system. The wires are delicately lifted several times during late spring and early summer.
I spend the hot summer months trying to stay cool in the shade of the tall grape vines in the vineyard. I kneel on the soft grass in the rows between the vines as I de-leaf the bottom of the canopy of leaves. My hands move swiftly and ever so carefully as not to disturb the clusters of vinifera that hang so perfectly over the wild flowers under each row. In early August, I cover the vines with netting to protect the tempting fruit from flocks of starlings and the cunning robin.
I walk through the vineyard in late September amongst the thousands of vines, randomly tasting plump berries and judging the sugar level of each grape. I savor each grape in my mouth, sucking the sweet juice and spitting out the skin and seeds. It is a ritual this time of year. My fingers are sticky from plucking the small berries from the clusters. I am excited that the grapes are almost ready. The warm September sun feels good on my face as the joys of harvest season draw closer.
But when will my alter ego take over? When will the winemaker within me determine the time to pick the grapes? The farmer knows simply by tasting the berry that the fruit is ready– but the winemaker must evaluate the ripeness scientifically and take the berry samples back to the laboratory.
Tying vines to the wires
As a winemaker, I inspect and choose the best grapes on the sorting table as they enter the winery. I remove all the remaining vegetation and stems from the grapes. I crush them gently and place them into a large vat.
They are natural and pristine. I know the natural yeast from the farm will be sufficient to ferment these grapes. I will not need to inoculate them with sulfur without cause. I know the grapes were protected against insects, birds, and disease.
After 12 short hours, the fermentation begins. Co2 is released and pushes the grape skins to the top of the vat, forming a cap. Two to three times a day I push the grape skins down toward the bottom of the vat to produce the highest quality tannins. Every morning, I taste the wine and measure it with a hydrometer. The alcoholic fermentation creates heat that maintains the fruity aromas in the wine.
After the sugar is converted to alcohol, the wine is pressed and transferred into airtight vessels for the next fermentation. This next fermentation is called malolactic fermentation and it converts the malic acids to softer tasting lactic acid.
Malolactic fermentation is a natural process that stabilizes the wine and occurs anywhere from a few weeks to a few months after primary fermentation. The winemaker, like my alter ego the vineyard manager, tries to keep the process as simple and as natural as possible.
After the fermentation is finished, I rack the wine in order to separate the lees from the wine. The wine is then put in oak barrels to age naturally for 12 to 24 months. I must carefully monitor the wine and top the oak barrels frequently, not allowing air to disturb the wine.
To be a winemaker or to be a vineyard manager, that is the question. Both these jobs are important in making great wine. However, one of them clearly is recognized as more important in the American wine industry. The hundreds of small tasks undertaken with care and precision is often overlooked by the oenophile who only sees the winemaker’s name on the bottle. The thousands upon thousands of hours spent in the vineyard to grow and nurture the perfect grape to make that great wine are not on the label. Yes, terroir is often mentioned on the bottle of wine, but that only refers to the region’s climate and soil.
So let’s raise a glass of wine to celebrate the diligent vineyard manager and vineyard worker of the new world who toils away in the field. Let us look to the French vineyards of Europe who are the standard bearers in viniculture and understand the value of the farmer in the vineyard. Let’s throw out the nouveau riche new world idea that great wine is only made by the winemaker in the wine cellar. Instead, let's understand that making great wine is a collaborative effort by both the winemaker and the farmer. Let’s recognize the greatness of the farmer who grows the grape that makes that great wine! “Vive l’agricultuer!” Long live the farmer!
A row of Cabernet Sauvignon vines pruned and ready to be tied down.
Tasting Room Hours
Full Tastings on Sundays, 1pm to 5pm
