America's Classic Grape: The Catawba

The 2008 grape harvest is approaching in Ontario. I get a sense of excitement this time of year, anticipating the first ripe bunches. Even if the grapes I'm waiting for happen to be ones I've known all my life (like Concord and Niagara) it nevertheless remains an exciting moment the first time I pop one of those ripe juicy berries into my mouth and re-live that awesome bold flavour all over again. You might liken the anticipation to that which accompanies France's annual Beaujolais Nouveau release!

There's a grape that I feel is far too overlooked in our day, especially in the province of Ontario: Catawba. This is without doubt a classic American grape.

Just the other day a friend picked some bunches of backyard Catawba, and I was simply amazed at the beautiful aromatic and flavour complexity of this much-overlooked variety. The grapes could probably hang a bit more and ripen more evenly, but because it was a backyard vine and not properly pruned that's to be expected. Still, the awesome flavour must have lasted a good 15 minutes after I ate the last grape (they were tangy but quite sweet as well): rosewater, Muscat-like spice and some wild-strawberry musk all danced on my palate. What a great flavour profile, and what a perfect classic wine grape that should be a household name in our day and age all across Eastern North America.

Here in Ontario, I know of no vineyards growing Catawba - even though it could easily ripen in the Niagara Peninsula. Commercial wineries moved away from labruscana-type grapes because their wines are not recognized under the VQA (Vintners' Quality Alliance) scheme. This, however, seems more about conforming to what the rest of the world is doing (i.e. growing grapes with famous, marketable names!) than judging the grape for what sort of wine it can yield when given strict hands-on management in the vineyard and winery. The fact is that labrusca grapes can be used for quality aromatic wines; it's just that previous to their large-scale removal from Ontario's vineyards, they weren't used to make such wines: it was the manufacturing process and kitschy marketing applied to them, and not the grapes themselves, that deserve unfettered scorn. This fact is easily seen when one contrasts the poor wines labrusca used to be associated with with quality estate-grown labrusca wines, such as Chaddsford's very fine Niagara from Pennsylvania.

Catawba is of course still grown in the eastern United States, though I believe that it deserves an image makeover for our times. The grape shouldn't simply be associated with overly sweetened kitschy touristy wines; given a flavour profile as complex and lively as it has, it could be used for some very powerful, concentrated dry table wines, dry sparklers or even slightly off-dry table wines that speak of pure-fruit aromas and lively, unencumbered acidity. That's the style that would resonate with wine lovers today: it's a style that simply isn't being dared, yet should be.

Let's get away from plonk and focus on small-lot production of hands-on artisanal wine from our North American heritage grapes.

2007 Dry Oaked Concord

It's not likely to be a wine you'd find at very many North American wineries - and that's precisely my reason for making dry, oaked varietal Concord.

In an earlier post I went into detail about how I first made dry Concord in 2002 from scratch using the best Concords I could get. With each vintage it has become clear to me that to make fine wine from labrusca grapes it's necessary to avoid all manner of "bad advice" that's been standard practise for too long - dilution of the must and copious sweetening with cane sugar in particular. Those methods will not produce quality wine; at best they will make a passable wine from overcropped fruit. The unspoken premise seems to be exactly that: Concord is deemed to be so acidic as to require such adulteration. Like sound bytes, these views get repeated ad infinitum and develop a certain inertia - yet if one cares enough to look beneath the surface, there is more to the story than meets the palate.

Since so much of wine quality depends on what happens in the vineyard, it follows that just as with any other grape variety, Concord too will benefit from common-sense techniques like maintaining an open canopy and partial green-harvesting after fruit set. These techniques require a hands-on approach, just as one would expect at a meticulously managed estate winery: the problem is that labrusca grapes, generally, are simply not grown in that manner.

That said, I did manage to find an impressively well tended labrusca vineyard in the western Niagara Peninsula. The vines had an open canopy with fruit well exposed to the sun; the sugar/acid balance was impressive, and the flavour was ripe and vinous; there was no sourness or other harshness that in any way hinted at a need for "amelioration" - a hydrometer reading of the must simply confirmed that the sugar needed to be bumped up prior to fermentation to get the desired alcohol level of 12-13% by volume. But this is normal with Concord: it's not a high sugar accumulator, though many of its labrusca hybrid brethren like Steuben, Delaware and Valiant certainly are.

Manual sorting and de-stemming were followed by crush and a 24-hour pectic enzyme soak on the skins; this was then followed by pressing, retention of a portion of the skins, innoculation with Lalvin EC-1118 "Prise de Mousse" yeast and a measured addition of yeast nutrient. Fermentation ran to completion with no problems and the wine was pressed off the skins and racked into sterilized carboys. Once clear, the wine was again racked into gallon jugs - some with medium-toast French oak shavings, some without any oak at all. The wine was left like this at basement temperature for four weeks and then was transferred to the garage for cold stabilization. Once the tartrate deposit formed, coating the oak shavings which had earlier fallen to the bottom, the wine was carefully siphoned into sterilized 750-ml bottles and the bottles were closed with natural cork.

In the glass, the wine shows a deep, translucent scarlet-ruby hue with a slight blue-garnet tinge. The nose is vinous Concord grape juice coupled with wild strawberry and hints of acacia flowers. There isn't a lot of muskiness on the nose here, something I think might be explained by the good sun exposure that these particular grapes received. The oaked version of the wine had all the same aromas framed by sweet toasty oak - an unusual, but ultimately harmonious combination. On the palate the wines are crisp and light-bodied with tart but not sour acidity; flavour replays follow from the nose. Both wines show some grape tannins too: they're short and the acidity carries the structure. In the oaked version, however, toasty oak flavours not only round out the finish but also add a kind of cohesive astringency.

The final conclusion? Wood tannins do work well in dry Concord!

2007 Dry Niagara

I try to make a dry varietal Niagara wine whenever circumstances permit, and fortunately, I managed to locate a vineyard last autumn near Stoney Creek, Ontario (western Niagara Peninsula) where I could do the "U-pick" thing and hand-select the best bunches.

Manual de-stemming and selection were followed by a 24-hour pectic enzyme soak, then crush and fermentation with a small portion of reserved skins. Primary completed without problems and soon enough I knew I had a winner on my hands: the flavour and balance of the wine were excellent. Over the first couple of months in cold storage, though, a haze problem manifested itself - one that isinglass, gravity filtration, sparkolloid and plain old time simply failed to clear. Things were looking pretty dismal for what tasted like a promising wine but looked awful...

Finally, I found a packet of chitosan finings - a colloidal shellfish preparation - that had remained from previous years. In desparation, I added the chitosan to the wine and in a few days, I had a brilliantly clear, bright wine.

The must was chaptalized to give a dry-finished wine with just over 12% alc./vol. Rich pale-straw hue with a deep greenish hue in the glass. Swirling brings out gentle, though unmistakable fusel/home-heating-oil/heavy-petrol oily notes coupled with forward acacia flowers, raspy citrus rind (I am convinced that this is Beamsville/western-Niagara-Peninsula terroir speaking - this citrusy aroma is well represented in the area's Sauvignon Blancs and Rieslings) and just the faintest musky-lemon-candy aroma framing it all. Light and crisp on the entry, with much crispness but moderate acidity overall; dry and light. Raspy citrus-rind replays on the mid-palate with some alcoholic warmth and malic tartness toward the finish. Clean finish; plenty of floral acacia/jasmine flavour and just a bit of musk on the finish, which is quite long.

Overall, I am quite happy with this dry Niagara. I feel that it is the equal of my 2003 effort, which was superior to both my original (2001) and 2005 vintages.

Dry Concord

In 2002 I undertook my first attempt ever at making a dry varietal wine from local, Ontario-grown Concord grapes. The project drew its inspiration from two sources: 1) the realization that there was absolutely no dry varietal wine from this heritage grape available anywhere commercially in Ontario, and 2) there was a very fixed view in the literature which stated that Concord, when made into wine, should only be made into sweet wine.

Realizing that many in the wine-loving community equated Concord wine with bottom-rung, kitschy jug wines and syrupy cloying sweetness, I decided to probe the topic — for the simple reason that sweetness in the finish of a wine is something that the winemaker has control over and is not something that modifies the bouquet of a wine. I do not like syrupy-sweet wines and had already come to the conclusion that I wanted to try a wine that had all of the aromatic power of Concord — but with a clean, crisp, tart texture. The fact that such a wine simply did not exist made me want to make it all the more.

There was yet another source of inspiration that I drew upon for the dry Concord project: my successful attempt one year earlier to make a dry varietal Niagara wine. Niagara, which is a white labrusca grape closely related to Concord and used to make Welch's White Grape Juice (it's actually a Concord x Cassady cross that's sometimes referred to as "White Concord"), showed me that a forwardly redolent and intensely floral white wine could do without the syrupy/sticky finish. Dry Niagara was another wine that simply did not exist commercially in Ontario.

Thus was born my dry Concord mission. I reasoned that if the Concord flavour has traditionally been seen as a kid's thing — i.e. grape juice, grape-flavoured candy, grape-flavoured gum, grape jelly & jam — then I want to launch that bold Concord flavour into an adult-amenable paradigm by means of a crisp, lean, dry varietal wine with a structure characterized by firm acidity. Marketability matters not, for it is not mass appeal that is sought; all that matters is that the creation of such a style be eminently doable, thus proving itself to be a legitimate stylistic option. If the number of wine enthusiasts who enjoy dry Concord never rises above a few individuals, yet these genuinely appreciate the paradigm, the effort will have been worthwhile.

Reforming the labrusca wine paradigm

It goes without saying that I had stylistic and methodological nitpicks with almost everything that I had read and heard regarding the "proper" way to make labrusca wines. If you peruse the available literature, you'll see that most of it proposes two specific practices: amelioration and final sweetening with cane sugar. My only nitpick with sweetening the wine has to do with my preference for dry wines; as such, it is not a real nitpick but a choice on my part to forego this step. Amelioration, however, is something with which I have a philosophical disagreement at the most fundamental level. "Amelioration" basically means dilution of the must with water prior to fermentation. The rationale for its use in making Concord wine stems from the fact that Concords, as typically grown, tend to be higher in total acidity than viniferas; therefore amelioration is a cheap and easy way of reducing that acidity. Not only does amelioration reduce acidity, but it dilutes the labrusca flavour . . . and thins down the must. This practice struck me as an ideal way for those who don't really like labrusca to make labrusca wine. If someone enjoys Viognier or Muscat or Gewürztraminer, can you imagine them diluting the musts with water, then adding tartaric acid to the musts — and calling them quality wines!?

There would be no amelioration for my dry Concord. Period. Cold-stabilization was my method of choice for bringing Concord's acidity down if needed. This method results in no flavour loss and certainly no dilution of the must. It was the saving grace that I had been looking for, and it was the method that I employed with unyielding conviction in my quest for purity.

The wine that resulted in 2002 was a revelation: it was leggy, with an intense deep ruby-crimson colour and a pink hue, but a gorgeous scarlet-ruby core. The nose was chaotic and pungent with tutti-frutti/tropical-fruit esters and hints of sweet musk. There was also that floral/grapey tang that one most readily associates with the classic Concord flavour. The wine turned out properly bone-dry, exactly as I had wanted. Final alcohol content may have been as high as 14%, just going by the slight heat on the finish. This heat subsided over the coming months and the wine showed an excellent, tight acidic structure and good texture. The finish was simultaneously crisp and warm with a characteristic candied-fruit/musky labrusca flavour that persisted.

Dry Concord again in 2007

Having made a very appealing, crisp and flavourful dry varietal Niagara for a change of pace in 2003, but then a so-so Fredonia in 2005 and a mediocre Cayuga in 2006, I decided to once again go with Concord for 2007 – it has been a superb, dry, hot vintage that I feel gives me a chance to make a wine to rival if not surpass the memorable 2002 Concord.

As usual, my yeast of choice remains the ubiquitous Lalvin EC-1118. EC-1118 has many strengths: its ability to make varietally-correct wines; the fact that it does not create compounds that obscure varietal character; its vigorous fermentation and high alcohol tolerance ensuring bone-dry wines every time, and its tendency to produce wines with a sound acidic structure.

At the time of this post, primary fermentation is still active, though nearing completion. Already the wine shows impressive structure and balance, and I feel that once clear and bottled, it will indeed be my best dry Concord to-date. I plan to try oaking a small batch of it just to see what that will be like! Stay tuned to this space for updates.

Key arguments

In conclusion, here are some key points to remember when considering dry labrusca wine:

It's often said in plain discourse that "good wine" can't be made from labrusca grapes. What this really means is that labrusca can't emulate vinifera; it really doesn't address the fact that wines of high purity are certainly possible with labrusca, and if high purity is understood as quality, then labrusca grapes can be made into "good wine" — good labrusca wine, of course.

I maintain that the most honourable way of making dry Concord and Niagara varietal wines is to do away completely with must-dilution (amelioration). Select well-ripened, clean and healthy fruit with good acid/sugar balance (learn to recognize this by tasting the fruit), chaptalize where necessary to get a final dry wine with adequate alcohol by volume for stability, ferment using a good neutral yeast such as Lalvin's EC-1118, do an isinglass fining and then cold-stabilize: a large tartrate deposit will form, reducing total acidity without diluting the wine or compromising its purity. Sulfites should be used as with any other quality wine.

The varietal aromas found in labrusca wines are inherent to these grapes. It is best to appreciate them as a distinct category of wine aromas, separate from those of vinifera. Most disappointment with the labrusca aromatic palette is based on the fact that it isn't like that of vinfera. However, how can X be like Y when X and Y are essentially different? Saying that labrusca makes bad wine because it tastes the way it does is akin to saying that grapefruit is bad because it doesn't taste like oranges.

What well-made Concord wine offers is a kaleidoscopic burst of technicolor flavours and unruly tutti-frutti power that you won't get in any other wine. The candied muskiness in Concord and Niagara wines does not readily lend itself to many food-matching situations. However, I have found that because of the dryness of the wines that I make, they actually can work at the table. One very unexpected and workable match for my dry Concord was a German-inspired Hasenpfeffer dish — braised rabbit in a spiced wine-based sauce. Similarly, I found dry Niagara to work well alongside breaded veal schnitzel with all the trimmings. Yet, I felt then and continue to feel now that the dry varietal wines from these grapes work best as stand-alone sippers.