Harvest time
Here in Burgundy the grape harvest is once again in full swing.
Given that vines have hung around since the Romans invited themselves into Burgundy in the 1st and 2nd centuries, this year would be about the 2000th harvest!! However, in spite of the Romans’ best efforts, most credit for establishing the quality and fame of Burgundian wines is generally given to the monks of Citeaux circa 12 c. Today it is claimed Burgundy wines are the best in the world. (I have two brothers who grow grapes in Marlborough, New Zealand who may contest that claim!)
Harvest time sees a rapid change in the landscape. Only the other Sunday we were cycling through the vineyards of Santenay, Chassagne-Montrachet and Puligny Montrachet. There was a clear blue sky hosting golden sunshine, the vines heavily laden with their grapes, and practically no one to be seen other than the odd stray dog. We absorbed ourselves in the tranquil and peaceful environment.
But when the balloon goes up to commence the harvest, it is all change and it is impossible not to know it. Over the previous week or so, literally thousands of workers have made their way to Burgundy in anticipation of the harvest. While some vines are harvested mechanically most of the premier and grand cru grapes are hand picked. Then an assortment of tractors and machinery start to ramble past your home any time after 0600 each morning. Buses, vans, people movers, motor homes congregate all around the region to pick up the ‘les vendangeurs’ and transport them to the vineyards.
The vineyards themselves look like they have come under attack. People everywhere, crates and containers galore to carry the grapes, tractors pulling large storage vessels used to take the grapes off to be pressed. There is activity everywhere and you sense the urgency of having the vines stripped in the shortest possible time. Les Vendangeurs put in long hours and at days end many a weary body is mollified by the finished product!
The last day of harvest is time to ‘make merry’. Mock fights errupt with unused grapes acting as the ammunition, pickers and tractors are decorated with vines, and a parade around the village celebrates the last bunch of grapes have been picked. Of course the celebrations go on well into the night, and well deserved they are too!
Which leads me to this ‘cute’ wine quotation:
“I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food.” - Anonymous
A Bientot, Bruce.
September 7th, 2007 at 5:35 pm
Ah, simliar to
I drink it when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Sometimes I drink it when I’m alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I’m not hungry and drink it when I am. Otherwise I never touch it … unless I’m thirsty.
(Madame Lily Bollinger of course.)
God bless every grape.
But don’t make the mistake we did when touring near St Emilion one year - leave all your wine buying to the last two days only to find the grape ripeness meter had chinged up “today or bust” that morning and everyone but everyone was out picking, definitly not sitting around the cave on the offchance muggins might happen along to buy a case or two.