In the language of wine there are many terms that have been adopted, largely by corporate marketers, to justify the special characters or even mere existence of a wine. There are of course the everyday terms like ’reserve’, ‘estate grown’ and ‘special barrel selection’ which generally mean absolutely nothing unless the wine has a unique and special identifiable character attributed to the said phrase. There is one however that has come into the wine lexicon recently that really lacks any sense of authenticity: ‘made in the vineyard’. This term seems to infer that a vine runs rampant in the vineyard and, in some immaculate conception, transforms itself physically, chemically and emotionally into a mind blowing, compelling beverage. Wine is man-made and it does not occur in nature.
This had me thinking. Trumping all of these terms in the wine-marketers book of overused terms is the wonderful French word ‘terroir’. It seems that every winemaker or wine brand owner seems to think their wine comes from a ‘special unique terroir’ however using the phrase in this way simply shows the naivety and lack of understanding of the author. Yes, every piece of land is unique, however the word ’terroir’ is not just about the physical attributes of place, it includes a significant human stamp where an individual or community of people has a certain reverence for the land. The element of culture is a critical, if somewhat invisible element of the term ‘terroir’ and most marketers in our modern world of wine simply don’t get it. The same can be said for many winemakers or vineyard managers who merely grow and make their wine as a manufactured product. One could say they have an irreverent relationship with their land.
Terroir in my view is about soil, climate and culture and the relationship between people and place. No other language, bar one, has an equivalent term. The language that has an equivalent term is one unique to New Zealand, and it is the language of our indigenous native people, the Maori. The Maori people have an unbelievable reverence for their land and relationship with the land. They are ‘kaitiaki’. It is a philosophy of generational guardianship and respect for their relationship with the land that embodies their term ‘kaitiaki’. It is the same for the vigneron and their term ‘terroir’. We have significantly downplayed the role of the person, or communities of people, in realising the great wines of the world. There is no doubt that the great wines of the world will always come from great vineyards, however we should consider the depth of human involvement that has led us to this fact.
Consider this. At some point, a person made a decision to plant a vine in a piece of land (it did not arrive there naturally), and in many cases people following have been charged with replanting a vineyard. Consider the choices of vine type, variety, clone or rootstock that a person could have made. Consider the choices of developing the vineyard from vine spacing to row spacing to soil preparation and fertilisation, trellising, irrigation, maintaining and managing the precocity of young vines. Consider the multitude of annual management decisions the people make such as canopy management, yield control, pest and disease management and harvest decisions. Of course then the big conundrum; am I sustainable, organic, biodynamic or am I probably the most sensible of all, an agro-ecologist? Every single one of those human factors has a significant impact on the wine, and this before a grape has even arrived at the winery. Then we have another raft of decisions that come into the human psyche: crush or press, native or inoculated, warm or cool, punch-down or pump- over, oak or steel, free wheel or control, screwcap or cork?
All decisions in the vineyard and winery are made by a human and the greatest wines in the world are made by people who have an innate love of and relationship with their land. That relationship is not determined by scheduled meetings or rosters, it is determined at random times, when no one else is around except maybe your dog or lover, often in the evening or early in the morning. This is when the essence and spirit of the land connects with the soul of the people charged with growing the grapes and making the wine from these great estates. When this happens, the decisions a person has to make become easy because the ‘terroir’ is working as one combination of soil, climate and culture.
How do you measure it? Well for me it is simply about seeing footprints in the vineyard.
