I've Traded in my Wine Glasses for a Foot Pedal.

   Enfin revenue!  I write to you today from my apartment in NW Portland. Gone are the days of sleeping on Parisian sofas, dreaming of the next day’s bubbly, dry, tannic or fruité delights. No longer do I spend my afternoons deep in French conversation about soil, gustatory pleasures or sulfites. No more metros, TGVs or rented cars to take me the next fascinating vineyard, cellar or wine bar. Plus de cheese plates, charcuterie boards and wine flights. Instead, I have traded these things for a foot pedal, a pair of head phones (and a diet rich in steamed vegetables). Indeed- transcription has begun.

    I have never transcribed anything before. However, the thought of it appeals to me. For some reason, I really enjoy typing and trying to maintain nice posture in an office chair. Simple pleasures, right? I am beginning to wonder if I will be whistling a different tune, however, when my summer of transcription comes to a close. What could be the reason for this change of heart? Well, my friends, transcription is very slow. And, unfortunately, I seem to be particularly slow. “They” say that for every hour of recording, one should plan for four hours of transcription. My guess is that “they” didn’t plan for the subject of the recording to regularly drop obscure names of chefs, restaurants, wine domaines or varietals. 

     I also fear that “they” didn’t account for recordings that were not in the transcriber’s native tongue. One things for sure: my french orthographe is sure to improve as a result of the hundreds of hours I will invest this summer. All I can say is “bring it on!” I’m a 22 year old American who wants to ultimately work in the gourmet food and wine industry so now is the time to learn these words, ideas and theories. And what better way to do so than to meticulously copy down every word said by the most renown individuals in the industry? 

Wish me luck! Souhaitez-moi bonne chance!

Aerial Reflections on Wine, France and [bien sûr] Terroir!

Today I am writing from a new perspective: aerial. I am currently passing above Paris in the airplane that will take me back to Portland, OR after three plus weeks of fascinating research, countless metro rides and bottles- I mean glasses- of wine. As I have several hours of travel ahead of me (and several behind me) I figure that now is a good time to summarize what exactly I’ve been up to these last few weeks.

En gros, I have learned far more than I anticipated as a result of the interviews, dégustations and cellar tours that I participated in. The proof of this was the hour long conversation I held with the gentleman sitting next to me on the plane. (Mind you, this hour happened before the plane even took off. It was almost two hours late because of the transportation grève that is happening in France this week. Grève translates as a “strike” in English. I have heard it said that grève is the favorite sport of the French, after futbol) Anyways, I digress- I was able to confidently and accurately explain the differences between organic, biodynamic and other variations of “natural” wines and what motivates our research. I felt like quite the hot shot. 

I think one of the best quotes I can extract from our various interviews comes from Catherine Montalbetti who says that “wine is a synonym for life.”   The longer we study wine, the more I realize what a vast field it is, one that transcends the international gourmet trade market. It means so much more to the people in the industry and begs questions regarding stewardship, ethics, sustainability and bien sûr- pleasure. 

While organic, biodynamic, natural wines all consider the longevity of their soils and the quality of their lands (i.e. the rejection of synthetic and chemical fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides) and in some cases, the abstinence in the cellar from practices like filtration, chaptalization, the addition of sulfites and a slew of other additives, the taste of the final product remains paramount. 

Many people that I talked to in France, some in the wine business and some who simply call France their home and its wine a crucial part of its patrimony, feel most comfortable with the idea of viticulture raisonnée, which simply reflects an idea of moderation regarding the introduction of organic, biodynamic or otherwise “natural” practices. Most would agree that it is absolutely necessary to protect the soils that yield this highly revered beverage, but not all agree on the esoteric practices of biodynamics, nor do they all refute the addition of sulfites, nor do they all consider the organic/biodynamic certification sufficient (or in other cases- necessary).

Clearly, there is dissent among France’s wino population (pardon me for applying such an Anglo expression to the French, the consumers of the most wine per capita in the world). Mais justement, that’s what makes this research so fascinating. What would our research serve if there was already a clear consensus among vintners, vendors and consumers?

To make sense of all we’ve learned, I am prepared for a summer under the cushion and felt of a pair of university head phones, deep in the transcriptions of the dozens of hours of interviews we’ve collected. But, this will be anything but redundant; where else in Oregon would I hear the passionate echoes of Nicholas Joly or the expert assertions of Catherine Montalbetti? En ecoutant I will get to relive my truly exceptional experiences in Paris (et ailleurs) such as the afternoon spent in a conference with Anger’s ESA food and wine studies professors or the lunch spent at Quedubon where I learned about Lacan, L’Association du Vin Naturel and how to de-bone a whole fish.

I will soon be touching down on US soil. And no, it did not take me a whole 9 hours to write an SGE post. I had to make a necessary pause to eat my airplane lunch, which, since I am flying from France, includes wine. Alas, I had to take advantage- in the name of research!! It is with a small amount of tristesse that I leave my beloved France, yet, I embrace the work ahead and the close proximity that I will be to the barrels of the Willamette Valley’s Pinot Noir just waiting to be tasted, or as my colleague Andrew Reetz would say, “dégusted”!

À bientôt!

Ooh La La: Natural Wine in Paris

Back in Paris again! After a brief hiatus in the north of France, I returned to the capital and just in time for the Salon des Vins Rue89 in the Bellevilloise. The Bellevilloise is a building that used to serve as a Co-op where local farmers in Île de France (the department surrounding Paris) could come to distribute their goods. Today, it seems as though little has changed. The building served as the meeting place for approximately 45 vintners to reunite in the name of natural wine.

If the combined presence of these natural vintners wasn't enough to inspire faith in the movement, the Salon was also graced by none other than Jonathan Nossiter, the director of Mondovino. Mondovino (2004) is one of the only documentary films to ever gain recognition at the Cannes Film Festival and it was one of the first films that exposed the realities of wine monopolies and the globalized trade of this 'commodity'. For those wanting to learn about Robert Parker, Michel Rolland, the Mondavi family (who go crazy for funk ceramics...a joke for those who've seen the film) and the differences between industrial vs. artisanal wines, then this film is a must see.

Nossiter was joined by Gilles Azzoni, a natural wine producer from France, and together they gave a lecture/debate called "Mondovino 2013: L'Artisanal va-t-il devenir illégal, et autres considérations sur la standardisation" (Mondovino 2013: Will Artisanal Become Illegal, and Other Considerations on Standardisation). I will attempt to summarize  an hour and a half long conference in a few sentences: Nossiter believes that the act of making natural wine is a political one- and a necessary one. The world is at its survival brink and we have the choice to improve it by rejecting the norm. He said "Sortir du norme est une décision dangereuse...être libre aujourd'hui est une contestation" ("To break the norm is a dangerous decision...to be free today is a contestation.") That's what he feels the natural wine movement is doing: David refusing Goliath knowing the risks are high, but also that the refusal is paramount. Azzoni, on the other hand, does not feel like natural wine is a contestation (bien au contraire). Instead, he believes that it's a movement that needs to take it's time and mature.

After the conference, I had the chance to briefly talk to Nossiter about the potential growth of the natural wine movement in the US. While he acknowledges that it is, indeed, taking place, he says that America still emphasizes the individual and the notion of individualism. In the States,  it's often accepted to do something just for yourself, while in France there is a greater sense of the collective goal. The natural wine vintners seem united in their objective, while the US seems to accept the idea of natural vintners as outliers pursuing their own fulfillment. 

At this point, it was time to taste. And when say taste, I really do just mean taste and not drink. Everyone around took full advantage of the crachoirs, or spitting buckets and I am glad I did the same. The idea of spitting wine in my real life (the life that doesn't take place in beautiful Parisian nooks where wine abounds) is almost sacrilegious; how could I waste such a delicious nectar that's rare to come by? However, at the Salon, the pours were very generous and I wanted to visit each table. Had I not learned early how to accept the spitting practice, I would have quickly turned bourrée (which I learned comes from the term "buttered", meaning a little tipsy). So to avoid compromised research, I learned to make fast friends with the bucket. 

I also got friendly with several vintners who were extremely passionate about their work and eager to talk about their terroir, their "preparations" (those who were biodynamic) and their ongoing love-hate relationship with sulfites.

Late in the the afternoon I also had the pleasure of meeting Daniele Fherm and Antonius Berthagen. They approached me as they did everyone else- in enthusiastic, amiable English. Despite the crowded, busy Salon, Fherm and Berthagen were instantly engaging and were as eager to learn what could have brought an American student to Paris as they were to share their own mission. They both work as professional sommeliers in some of Stockholm's finest restaurants. However, they also run their own company, Viniologi, which imports exclusively natural wines to Sweden to be sold in restaurants. They travel around Europe (mostly Italy, France and Germany) looking for natural wines that would appeal to the Swedish market. They say that when they share the wine with costumers, they want the costumers to be able to imagine the face of the vintner who made the wine. Therefore, they work especially hard to visit every vineyard and get to know the people running the operations. They also run a website and blog and hope to open up their own wine bar in Stockholm by this upcoming spring. They have an extremely clever logo of a giant, severed foot stomping on a bundle of grapes. Fherm spent six weeks making wine in South Africa and he explained that because he was the largest man there, we was responsible for stomping and macerating the grapes. In the logo, his foot has seven toes to represent the seven days of the week that wine should be enjoyed. The logo is so distinctive and comical that vintners at the Salon were eager to wear them as stickers and by the late afternoon, there were people everywhere sporting the image of "the foot". Fherm and Berthagen said that the very same thing happened in London the previous week. 

When the Salon ended at 19.00, Ferhm and Berthagen agreed to let me interview them, which proved to be one of the most valuable interviews of the day and it will no doubt, add depth and character to our project. Side note: it was certainly the most enjoyable interview of the trip, as this one took place on a park bench under the elusive, but beautiful, Parisian sun while sharing a bottle of natural Alsacian Pinot Noir from the Salon.

From there I left to meet the lovely host who is letting me stay at her flat as a Couchsurfer. I brought her wine as a thank you and she prepared pancakes, the perfect meal to absorb the wine that I had refused to spit. And then I quickly settled into a deep sleep- dreaming of Bacchus, funny severed feet and the incarnated dream figures of new words like "cépage, contestation or cracher." 

À bientôt !