Drink different
Niagara a natural home for varietal experimentation
It’s harvest time, and the grapes are coming in.
All around the northern hemisphere grape growers and winemakers alike are feverishly collecting ripe grapes in order to maximize their harvest and create the wines that we will sip on in months or years to come. The classic, steadfast favourites are all pouring in; the Chardonnays, the Rieslings and the Cabernets, but so are the lesser knowns; the grapes that not all in Niagara are willing to take a chance on, but may have significant impact on the future of Niagara wine.
After all, we can.
What I mean is we are in quite a liberal part of the wine world. We often take for granted that we can grow any grape our heart desires. In France, for example, we wouldn’t be able to produce Chardonnay in the Loire Valley, no matter how much we adore it. Their wine laws, which some argue as limiting and others as justified, divides the country into regional appellations which prohibit certain grape varieties. No luck for Pinot Noir in Bordeaux, but you’ll find it in abundance in Burgundy.
It’s similar in other countries like Italy and Spain. But here we are in Canada, the brave New World where our wine law (VQA in Ontario) allows us to cultivate any grape we see fit.
We’ve been at it almost 50 years and that still makes us toddlers in the world of wine. This is our opportunity to learn and grow — we have such a range of terroir; from the limestone steep slopes of Beamsville to the flat sandy lake-kissed shores of Niagaraon-the-Lake. Thank goodness we haven’t experimented for hundreds of years or we may be set in our ways. We still have the renegade, vibrant spirit within us — and I see it all around me.
Go no further than Stratus vineyards, where you’ll find grape varieties that are on the fringe for North America. Varieties like Sangiovese (most commonly used in Chianti), and Tempranillo (ah, the lovely Riojas from Spain) and Tannat (the red you’ll be sipping on when you finally buy that summer home in the southwest of France).
I spoke with Suzanne Janke, estate director, and when I asked her why Stratus would take a gamble on grapes that thrive in much warmer climates, she replied: “Because we know that in order to move to exciting places, you need to take risk.”
This is well calculated, because not only is winemaker J-L Groux from France, where he spent his early wine-making days experimenting with grapes like Petit Verdot, but there is also the fact that yes, the climate is changing, and it’s getting warmer. This presents Niagara with the opportunity to grow grapes that otherwise wouldn’t survive.
Stratus is relatively small, with only 55 acres of planted vineyard, growing a whopping 16 different grape varieties. It makes sense, as their concept is the art of the assemblage — meaning most of their wines are a blend of different grapes. Wise decision when you live in Niagara, and your climate is so varied year to year that you can never count on one grape to succeed. So it’s a venture of experimentation, but also a rational step.
Just down the road you’ll come to Big Head winery where other fringe varieties are given new identities. Grapes like Chenin Blanc and Savagnin are repurposed in a Canadian environment with explosive aromatics and textured mouthfeel with the aid of fine wine-making techniques. Whole cluster fermentation (a big conversation lately amongst winefolk), is something winemaker Andrzej Lipinski has been using in his reds for years, and this vintage he will be introducing it to his whites for the first time.
This is pretty radical, as almost every wine in the world produced this way comes from red grapes. But carving out a path for Canadian wine is something that Big Head isn’t afraid of. When speaking with Andrzej and his son, sommelier Jakub, both are passionate about making good wine using the best possible methods, even if they’re unconventional in Ontario.
Simply take a tour inside and you’ll see a range of concrete fermenters. By using concrete, a winemaker gets the best of both worlds (stainless steel tanks and oak barrels). They allow enough oxygen in, mimicking oak, in order to provide a weighty mouthfeel, and yet retain the original aromatics of the grape, mimicking the everneutral stainless steel. I’ve come across concrete fermenters in France, California and even at our local Trius winery, but never seen them designed this way. They’re purposely built horizontal rather than vertical in order to spread out the surface area of the wine. This way the wine maximizes its time with lees contact (the spent yeast cells), which again add to a wine’s character.
I’ve only scratched the surface here. There is a global movement to varietal experimentation. I recently read about the success of Carménère, Chile’s beloved superstar grape, in Washington state.
In Niagara alone we have a wine industry that continues to push boundaries, from varietal selection to grape growing and wine-making practices. KEW’s Marsanne (a grape usually reserved for a blend in France’s Rhône Valley) has been my go-to wine lately, and I would encourage you to find something new for yourself. Anything that raises your eyebrow, whether it be a new grape or a winery you’ve never explored. Be adventurous, and join the rest of the renegades in the wine industry.