we like wine.

wine shouldn’t be a mystery but it so often is. our aim is to lift the veil but keep the magic.

no big words, no agendas and no reviews. just wine chats without the wank.

who made your wine and does it even matter?

who made your wine and does it even matter?

One of the magical things about wine is a lot of the hard graft is done by Mother Nature. Essentially, that means the recipe for a wine is never really the same. As the seasons are always different, what is the one true constant that helps guide those little berries into juice and the subsequent elixir that we’ve come to know and love? The answer: humans.

Most wine folk out there advise that they practice what is called a ‘minimal intervention’ approach to their winemaking. It’s considered mandatory for small batch, quality producers. Perhaps an overused term these days but it is relevant so what does it even mean?

In its most simple form wine is fermented grapes. This happens naturally as soon as the skin splits on a grape and air and natural yeasts that are floating around us all the time mingle with the natural sugar found in the fruit. So minimal intervention means the winemaker does as little as possible so as not to interfere with the natural process. This is where the magic lies for dedicated wine lifers who live and die for the stuff. It’s definitely what sets wine apart from all those other beverages catching our eye at the moment.

In truth, the very act of growing a vine in a vineyard setting is intervening. It’s a vine — just like ivy. That sucker will grow under your feet, up a tree and left to its own devices could take the roof off your house. It’s wild, unrelenting and persistent.

So, the second a wooden or metal post goes into the ground and that vine is trained across a wire and pruned, we’ve interfered with the natural world. Therefore, the human touch, even if minimal, in the process of winemaking is a fundamental fact. It is also perhaps one of the most constant factors.

There are 365 days in a year and a vine gives up its grapes on only one of those days. The rest of the time it’s working hard to extract everything it can from the sun and soil and the surroundings. But when it comes to harvest, the one day when the grapes are ready, how does a vigneron* know the exact day, that 24 hour window, when the grapes are at their most tasty? That is, when the natural sugars nurtured by the heat of the sun and the acids, quelled by the cool of the night, have reached optimal balance and will thus make a heavenly, juicy, complex, structured, super delishimo wine.

Just like wine at any stage of consumption, this moment in the process is likewise utterly subjective and down to a personal preference. Now, to be clear, there are perimeters of course but this is the beginning of where the individual can add their ‘je ne sais quoi’ to what will be the end product.

Let’s start right at the beginning. The choice of where to plant and what to plant is a human decision. The process of how to farm, whether to adopt organic or biodynamic philosophies or remain conventional by using synthetic chemicals are human decisions that influence the end flavour of the juice in the bottle.

Decisions like how and where to ferment the wine. Should you use French oak barrels or American oak barrels? Perhaps stainless steel tanks or concrete eggs or clay amphora or a combo of all of the above? Wild yeasts or inoculated yeasts? The things that must be thought of in order to make good wine wholly rest on the whim of the winemaker.

Put all these decisions together and you can attribute them to the end wine. They form the signature of the winery house or brand.

So, considering how much wine is actually about who made it, why don’t we think more about them when buying a bottle?

Choosing a wine is pretty bloody hard. There are almost 700 wineries in Aotearoa. That’s a lot of gear to get your head around. When we buy wine we have to think about price — that’s a given and we think about which flavour we like and then we probably think about label design and which ones seem cool and stylie.

Given the vigneron’s touch is such a consistent stamp, it means it might just be the one true point of difference. Think about it. Picture in your mind the Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc shelf at your local supie. There’s shitloads of bottles all lined up vying for your attention. The kicker is, (I’m going to be banned from Boomtown) to most of us they’re somewhat similar and it’s likely they’ll all meet our expectations of what of a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc should probably taste like — give or take. So what’s the defining factor that makes you buy the bottle you actually buy? Price? Sure, we get it. Label art? Yep, we’re the same. We love a smoking hot label too. Familiarity? In a world of intimidating wine wank finding something you know because you’ve had it or heard of it before is a bit of a relief. But given everything that has been outlined above, what about adding the maker to the list of considerations.

Do they farm in a way that aligns with your values? Do they give a stuff about the planet? Can you find actual people on their website or Instagram? Do they sound like the sort of people you’d want to have a beer with? If they do, chances are they’ll make a wine you like too!

Listen, at the risk of exposing my true colours, I’m not sure I’d recognise a super fly bottle of Pinot Noir amongst a line up of average bottles of Pinot Noir if I had to taste them blind and if my life depended on it. Don’t get me wrong, I can wank on with the best of them when it comes to wine descriptives but for me, one absolutely vital ingredient and flavour profile I know makes the wine taste either bitter or better, is who made it.

Of those 700 odd NZ wineries, only a handful are major companies owned by major millionaires. The rest are kiwi grafters, mortgaged up to their eyeballs, combining their astute understanding of science with their intuitive and original flair for the artistic, all to make us a bloody delicious bottle of wine. It’s those guys I want to support with my dollar. Knowing that back story adds a sense of ownership and absolutely part of the enjoyment of the wine.

It’s not vital that you know who made your wine but it is definitely a factor in the flavour of it so don’t you reckon you should? Cue my favourite quote from Michael ‘Mittens’ Glover:

“It can be the most ritzy, revered winery on the planet but if that dude kicks his dog and is mean to his staff, then he can get fucked. I’m not drinking his wine.”


we’re super grateful to our pals at antipodes water company. they supply us with the good water for our chats. antipodes is an artesian water that contains no chemicals, and when you’re pouring an organic wine that is gold. the mineral content also keeps the palate fresh so you can taste the wine the way the winemaker and nature intended you to. thanks antipodes, you’re the bomb. antipodes.co.nz

but seriously... biodynamics explained.

but seriously... biodynamics explained.

not another natural wine chat

not another natural wine chat