Supporting Colorado Agriculture with Spring Fermentations

“When is the grape harvest?” This is a popular (and loaded) question that I encounter during the year as I visit with our Vino Salida fans. Technically, the grapes are harvested at the end of the Spring/Summer growing season, between August and November. However, as a winemaker, I define the word “Harvest” as the time of year that I ferment wine. Traditionally, grapes ripen, are picked, then crushed, pressed and fermented into wine. This is the basic answer. Nevertheless, at Vino Salida, we actually have a Winter/Spring “Harvest” as well…

Firstly, let’s get familiar with the Colorado grape growing season as it unfolds. The vines, after being dormant all winter, will need to wake up as the weather warms the earth, water and air. When this happens, the vines will start pushing from the buds that were set in the autumn. Colorado’s bud break happens in April and May. Each bud will produce a grape flower cluster and will need to be pollinated before the grape berries begin to develop. Soon, there will be bright green berries that develop and grow during the summer, utilizing the roots and leaves to power their growth. In August, the grapes will start turning darker colors as sugars start to form and acidity starts to decline. When the grapes become packed with sugar and the acidity is in balance, they are picked and shipped to wine cellars around Colorado for fermentation.

Grapes harvest quantities in Colorado are at the whim of Mother Nature. Since 2002, through drought years, rainy seasons, and Autumn/Winter cold events, I’ve seen years that I couldn’t source grapes from Colorado (grapes are “short”) and years that have brought massive tonnage to a State that only has 170 small wineries (grapes are “long”). In short years, I have sourced grapes from Washington State or California just to have enough wine to sell and keep the doors open. However, my primary grape grower, Talbott Farms, has developed an ingenious way to “extend” the harvest in a long year. If they haven’t sold all their grapes for the current harvest, they will crush, press and freeze them!

This is a phenomenal development for Colorado’s Wine Industry and especially for Vino Salida. We are a small winery with limited tank & barrel space. Last Autumn, I wasn’t able to ferment enough grapes to get through the next 9 to 24 months because of limited tank space. I ordered the maximum quantity to fill all available space. Then, with all tanks full, I started bottling wines from Harvest 2021 to free up tank space. With space open and still needing more wine to sell, I was able to bring in Talbott frozen grapes (supporting Colorado Agriculture!) and ferment in Winter/Spring 2023. This has been a wonderfully creative solution for Vino Salida two-fold: we will have enough Colorado wine to sell, and I am able hone my craft by practicing fermentation skills.

“That’s all fine and good, Steve, but do frozen grapes produce great wines? They have to be mediocre at best.” No. Just the opposite. Because they are processed fast and fresh, then frozen immediately, they actually produce magnificent, award-winning wines. Case in point: in February 2020, after a vine-damaging freeze in October 2019, I brought in frozen Tempranillo grapes from 2017, fermented them, aged them for 14 months in Kentucky oak barrels, and entered the resulting wine into the 2022 Colorado Governor’s Cup. The 2017 Tempranillo won a Double Gold Medal, placing in the top 12 wines judged from 300+ wines! An amazing victory for Colorado Agriculture.

I have been blessed. I’ve participated in 21 Autumn harvests in Colorado, and now I’m finishing my third Spring harvest, with my 25th coming again in September! It’s been a fun ride learning my craft. Through the challenging disasters and the triumphant victories, I have come out feeling extremely comfortable with my passion of producing tasty wine. Many thanks to Talbott Farms for the opportunity to practice Spring Harvest over the last three years. Salute!

Creating a uniquely Coloradan vermouth

The word “Wine” is mysterious enough. People, including myself, can spend many lifetimes of learning about wine and not even scratch the surface understanding the many facets of this beverage. Now, I have the audacity to mention the word “Vermouth”! Why would I be so bold to assume that anyone would know what I was talking about. “You make what? Vermouth? I was just starting to get the grasp of the wine thing, Steve, and now you have my head spinning in confusion. What the hang is Vermouth?”.

My basic answer is this: Vermouth is a fortified wine that is flavored with a variety of herbs and spices, also known as “botanicals”, thereby “aromatizing” it. The “fortification” happens when grape spirit from distilled wine is added to the wine and botanicals. It is traditionally made in two major styles: dry white Vermouth and sweet red Vermouth, but also may include a sweet white Vermouth style. Dry Vermouth, originating in France, is famously used to make Martinis and is dry and floral. Sweet Vermouth usually comes from Italy, is sweet, spiced, and herbal, and is used in cocktails like Manhattans and Negronis. Dry and sweet Vermouths are also enjoyed as an aperitif before a meal, or as a digestif after a meal.

Since Vermouth is a fortified wine, it is slightly high in alcohol when compared to non-fortified wine. Vermouth can be sweetened with grape must or partially fermented grape must (Mistelle wine). Sugar is also fine. In fact, the color in sweet red Vermouth is often obtained by caramelized sugar, not the type of wine itself.

Crafting Vino Salida Vermouth can be summed up in the following basic process: First, I make the wine, known as the “wine base”. Then, I calculate how much grape spirit (at 120 proof) to add, creating an alcohol percentage of 15.5% (Vermouth can be as high as 20% alcohol by volume). Then, I add my proprietary blend of botanicals to grape spirit and let them soak together, mingling and relaxing together, to form a “botanical spirit”. After about one month, I add the botanical spirit to the wine base, and it is now called Vermouth! If the style is sweet, I add Salida Mountain Honey, filter the Vermouth, and then bottle, label and enjoy!

Now, in 2023, I find it easy to sum up my process of creating this unique beverage. However, it’s been a long journey of confusion, learning, trials, errors, successes and design to get to this point in time. It all started with a problem, as so many inventions do. It was 2013, and I had some bulk wine that didn’t quite make the cut, so to speak. It was not fit to bottle or even blend into another wine. What a bummer. I hemmed and hawed as to what to do about my predicament. Eventually, double inspiration came my way in the form of two quotes simultaneously. Firstly, I read a quote by John Adams, saying that “Every problem is an opportunity in disguise,” followed by a more recent quote by John Lennon, saying that "There are no problems, only solutions". Contemplating the realm of possibilities, melding the Law of Attraction with Quantum Physics, I imagined that I could resolve my situation by being creative. And so, my solution began…

I decided re-create the wine by having it distilled at Wood’s High Mountain Distillery in Salida. Change its form. That’ll be a good start. In the past, I had done the same thing, working with Deerhammer Distillery in Buena Vista to distill wine into spirit and adding it to fermenting red wine, creating a wonderful port-style wine called “LaVell”. But this time, I wanted to something more unique, a different product than any other Colorado winery was releasing. What could I make? Hmmmm…

In the following weeks, when I was picking up the finished grape spirit at Wood’s, I shared my dilemma with Master Distiller P.T. Wood. He listened, deep in thought, mulling over possible possibilities. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and excitedly said, “Wait a minute. I’ll be right back.” After rummaging around in his office for what seemed an eternity, papers and books flying in every direction, he emerged with an amazing book, “The Mixellany Guide to Vermouth & Other Aperitifs” by Jared McDaniel Brown and Anistatia Renard Miller. P.T. seemed electrified! He started flipping through the pages like a school kid who had received a new comic book from the corner store. He spouted off about this and that and the other thing, eventually culminating in his opinion of what my solution could possibly be: crafting a uniquely Colorado Vermouth. And why not. I had just received Colorado-grown grape spirit and had bulk Colorado-grown wine at the winery. I could even sweeten the Vermouth with local honey, as I was already producing Honey Mead from Salida Mountain Honey. His enthusiasm for Vermouth was infectious. P.T. let me borrow the book (which I kept for way too long), and I became obsessed myself, promptly reading the book three times in a row!

I decided then and there to move forward and craft Colorado-grown Vermouth. I met with P.T. many times over the next several months, chatting, sharing, learning. He informed me of the botanicals that he felt were essential in the styles that I wanted to make, including Angelica Root, Chamomile, Lavender, Sage, Wormwood, Yarrow, Nutmeg, Clove, Cardamom, Galangal, and more. Together, with many trial batches and tastings, we came up with three rough drafts that I could riff on and fine-tune. Eventually, through many more experimental batches in my wine cellar, I had perfected my distinct recipes, and in 2014, Colorado’s first Vermouths were released off our bottling line: a white Extra-dry Vermouth, sweet white Bianco Vermouth, and sweet red Rosso Vermouth. To this day, we sell them in our tasting room as beverages on their own, and for mixing into cocktails. We even make Manhattans and Martinis for customers, pairing them with laughter, live music, steaming Pepperoni/Tomato toasts, and many dear friends. It has been a fun road to travel down, the road to Crafting Colorado Vermouth. Many, many thanks to P.T. Wood for his collaboration in this project. Salute!

Wine Crystals: Gifts from the Grapes

I recently received an email from a long time customer. She wrote, “My husband & I enjoyed the Novello wine tonight and when we were finished I happened to find something odd in my glass.  Is this normal?  Thank you.”

After viewing the photos, I knew instantly what was in their wine glasses - “Wine Crystals” or more lovingly, “Wine Diamonds”. They are formed from tartaric acid which is naturally occurring in all wines and provides structure, balance and flavor. To me, these are gifts from the grapes showing up in our wine. They are safe to consume, albeit crunchy to the bite. They settle to the bottom of the wine bottle and are usually only in the last glass of wine poured.

So, where do these crystals come from? I know that the wine was filtered as it went into the bottling system. Seemingly appearing by magic, there is an actual scientific explanation…

Grapes are composed of different acids in their juice which gives the resulting wine ageability and a lively vitality that makes it enjoyable to consume. Citric acid (think citrus fruits), malic acid (think apples and pears), and, in most abundance, tartaric acid are all constituents of grape juice. It is their individual solubility that concerns us with wine crystals.

Tartaric acid’s solubility in wine is temperature-dependent. When a wine is chilled to temperatures below 40 degrees Fahrenheit, the remaining tartaric acid will bind with the naturally occurring potassium in the wine to form crystalline deposits (potassium bitartrates), or tartrates. As a winemaker, I chill my bulk wines, particularly white wines and high acidity red wines, in a process called “Cold Stabilization”. In this process, I bring the temperature of the bulk wine below 40 degrees Fahrenheit to bring the tartrate crystals out of solution before it is bottled.

So, in the case of this Novello, I did not bring the temperature down enough to cold stabilize the wine before it was bottled. This was due to the higher than normal tartaric acid levels in the grape used to craft the Novello - Chambourcin. Chambourcin is a French-American interspecific red hybrid grape variety used for making wine and survives the cold climate of our Palisade high-altitude vineyards. Chambourcin is notorious for having high levels of acidity which make it challenging to cold stabilize. In this case, the red wine that was bottled was not cold stabile. So, when bottle aged in our wine cellar having an average Winter temperature between 40 - 50 degrees Fahrenheit, the “Wine Diamonds” magically showed up in the bottle.

This process actually improves the wine, creating an even smoother wine tasting experience. Older vintages are notorious for having wine crystals form on the glass of bottles themselves and are a sign of high quality. Sommeliers will filter aged wines into carafes, pouring them slowly to retain all sediment in the bottom of the bottle.

So, the next time you’re at a dinner party and you see sediment in a wine, take the opportunity to share this knowledge with your wine geek friends and family. It is an endless road of knowledge with wine. A road that would take many lifetimes to explore. Being limited to this one lifetime, I am enjoying every sip and experience with the ones I love. I hope you are as well. To your health - Salute!

Unlocking the stories of Solera de Salida

Last Tuesday, my cellar crew and I bottled the 2017 Tempranillo. Filling, corking, and labeling 1300 bottles, the Tempranillo grapes from Harvest 2017 were finally finished being preserved. The newly bottled wine is delicious, as the crew and I wholeheartedly agreed, toasting to another successful bottling day over smoked pork street tacos. Its raspberry fruit character, vanilla undertones and light body will make it a perfect cool red wine during the heat of Summer 2022.

Enjoying a new bottle of my wine is instantly satisfying, exciting. I’ve been waiting patiently for too long, and now it’s time to enjoy and share it immediately. “What can we pair the Tempranillo with tonight? Is there a concert in the park this weekend? Let’s pack some Tempranillo in a wine thermos with some snacks. Did you hear so-and-so is coming to town next week? We should get together, open a bottle of Tempranillo and catch up.”

In contrast, opening a bottle of my wine that is five, seven, ten years old makes me feel nostalgic. Memories of harvest, fermentation, blending, and bottling arise between tastes. Sipping an older wine becomes a visit with a longtime friend, remembering the time that has gone by as we savor our unique relationship.

Yesterday, I decided to get together with an older vintage. Opening a bottle of Solera de Salida to share with a friend, I was flooded with memories of this wine’s distinctive creation. Solera’s birth started twelve year’s ago in January 2010, even though it was bottled only six years ago in December 2016. Timelines, people and past procedures overwhelmed me as I held the wine in my mouth. It turns out that, by uncorking this bottle, I was in fact unlocking the history of Solera de Salida.

When I first opened the winery in 2009, I only knew one winegrower in Palisade, Colorado. Wanting to meet more people in my industry, in January 2010 I participated in Colorado’s premier grape growing and winemaking conference, VINCO, in Palisade. Over the next three days, while participating in workshops and “Meet & Mingle” tastings, I met several growers, including Kaibab Sauvage of Colorado Vineyard Specialists. Although Kaibab didn’t have any grapes for sale, he put me on a call list if any grapes came up for sale.

The call eventually came in Summer 2013. Following a harse winter, Kaibab assured me that he would have some Albariño grapes for sale, albeit a very small quantity. Now that I was on the list, I didn’t want to get off, so I agreed to purchase any amount he was willing to sell me, even a miniscule amount.

In September 2013, I was thrilled to pick up 1/2 ton of Albariño grapes from Kaibab. After crushing the grapes and bucketing them to the press, however, I realized that my wine press was not full enough to press. Scratching my head in thoughtful concern, I realized that I had just received some Chardonnay grapes as well and creatively decided to add some crushed Chardonnay to fill up the remaining space in the Albariño press. Although born of necessity, the blending of Albariño and Chardonnay in Solera’s creation developed into a true and lasting relationship.

When the wine finished fermenting, it surprisingly had an orange color. Being a “white” wine made with white wine grapes, I felt like the fermentation had thrown me a curveball. Nevertheless, the sensory evaluation reminded me of Spanish sherry which I enjoy immensely. It was light in body, had bright acidity, and showed a tremendous amount of character. I decided on a “wait and see” approach: pumping the new wine to oak barrels, keeping it topped off monthly, and continuing to procure more Albariño grapes from Kaibab.

Luckily, I was able to buy Albariño for the next four years, 2013 to 2016, each year making a new wine, sometimes co-pressing with Chardonnay, and blending it with the previous vintages. The decision to blend in this manner was inspired by the sherry blending technique of southern Spain called a Solera, where small amounts of younger wines are stored in an upper tier of casks and are systematically blended with the more mature wine in the casks below. My new creation suddenly had the perfect name: Solera de Salida!

Finally, Solera was ready for bottling in December 2016 when the fresh 2016 Albariño wine was blended with the past vintages dating back to 2013. It was a bold new Colorado product with high acidity, having the potential to age well. Excited by the new release, I celebrated with food pairings and friendly sharings. Quickly, however, I realized that my enthusiasm for Solera was only shared by a small group of people. Sluggish sales and an audience that was turned off by orange colored wine were not helping our bottom line. So, regretfully, it was decided to shelve all future bottlings. I blended the remaining Solera inventory into a barrel-aged Chardonnay dominant Cuvée Blanc (white wine blend) which has toasted vanilla overtones, a golden hue, and is extraordinarily popular. The age of Solera de Salida was over.

Fortunately, I snatched up the last cases of Solera and stashed it away to age for another day. That day was yesterday! I popped the cork and was pleasantly surprised how well it has been aging. It was floral with apple and anise notes, beautifully colored orange, and crisp acidity danced over my tongue. Still aging gracefully, I am looking forward to sharing another bottle with Kaibab this summer in the Sifone Vineyard where it was grown. My relationship with Solera is still going strong. I am inspired by you, Solera. You are a tasty reminder that the actions of today will reward me and others for years to come.

Ambelos Vineyard: the long and continuing story behind this Cabernet Franc

I was visiting with Palisade peach and grape grower Bruce Talbott yesterday, catching up and going over my grape order for Harvest 2022. As we said our goodbyes, he said something that sums up our 19 year collaboration and friendship. In a masterfully poetic way that only a seasoned farmer could formulate into words, he told me that, “Wines are the children of the grower and the winemaker. The father is the grower. The mother is the winemaker.” These words set the stage for my adventurous day of walking the Palisade vineyards and visiting with the farmers who grow my Vino Salida wines.

What a refreshingly warm and calm spring day it was. Earlier this week, I was hunkered down inside while the snow was flying, and now my senses have come back to life from yesterday’s intense bluebird day. The fluttering white butterflies and bright green grass felt comforting against the cold dark blue snowy Grand Mesa looming 6500 feet above me. The smell of sage colored weeds and smoke from ditches burning in the distance foreshadowed summer’s imminent return. However cheery I felt, I know all too well that springtime in Palisade is a cautiously optimistic time.

After another visit and vineyard walk with longtime collaborator/grower/winery owner Kaibab Sauvage, I took the time to enjoy freshly pruned peach trees and grape vines. They felt so tidy and new, like any spring cleaning project. The long awaited orderliness had arrived out of winter’s unpredictable chaos. This manicured landscape will provide summer’s bounty and autumn’s harvest…hopefully. Fingers and toes crossed. A snowstorm with chilling cold could show up any day now. Ferocious spring winds could damage bright, delicate blossoms. These orchards and vineyards are not safe until June, and then we can all breathe a sigh of relief, assess any damages, and count our blessings.

Resilience, perseverance and optimism are necessary skills in the tool chest of our industry. Without them, we would not have food and wine on our tables. Colorado vineyards have taken many blows since I made the first Vino Salida wines in 2009. Extreme freezes in 2009, 2010, 2011, 2013, 2014, 2019, and 2020 have made it challenging to grow enough grapes for the many Colorado wineries. Most of our grape growers depend on their own peach harvests to support themselves, and the April freeze of 2020 wiped out all but 5% of peach blossoms in the state. Most recently, the October freeze of 2020 devastated most vines, many with hanging grapes, and led to a dismally small 2021 harvest, only 7% of a crop. This forced most wineries to send valuable cash elsewhere by sourcing grapes from out of state. Cautious optimism and fingers crossed…

My vineyard adventure concluded yesterday with Neil Jaquet at his Ambelos Vineyard. Neil and I have worked together since 2012 when I helped pick his Gewurztraminer grapes and made wine from them. He also had Orange Muscat, Tempranillo and Malbec planted. That is, until the freeze of 2013. He lost all his vines, leaving him and his wife, Dee, with a pivotal decision to make: should they sell the vineyard or replant? After combing their financial spreadsheets and a winter of soul searching, they decided to dig their roots a little deeper in the Palisade soil and replant. Knowing their site even more intimately now, they decided to plant the cold hardy varietals of Aromella, Traminette, Chambourcin and Cabernet Franc. This was a wise decision, as the vines have done magnificently in this location. I have crafted sparkling wines, red wine blends and several single varietal Cabernet Franc wines over the years from Ambelos. That is, until 2021. There were no grapes produced due to the October 2020 freeze. The Cabernet Franc was the worst hit, the vines having to be cut to the ground last summer, retrained to 4-5 canes, and tied this spring into quadrilateral cordons to hopefully produce 50% of a crop. Fortunately, as we walked and talked, it was quite obvious that his vineyard was once again in recovery mode. Neil happily predicted a 100% crop of Chambourcin, Aromella and Traminette. Things are looking up at Ambelos, but fingers crossed until June!

After our joyous sunny tour, Neil proceeded to open a bottle of his homemade 2020 Traminette/Aromella blend. We sipped tasty cold vino on the patio overlooking his vines and the Grand Mesa, telling story after story as the afternoon began to wane. The floral aromas and bright, slightly sweet tastes of nectar seemed to linger forever. It was a happy reunion of friendship and wine made from grapes of yesteryear, all mingled with today’s optimism of another successful harvest in the fall. A celebration of years gone by and years to come. We ended the tasting with a tradition of ours: trading bottles of wine that we both made from his grapes, including the 2020 Cabernet Franc released last week in Vino Salida’s tasting room.

My Journey to New Mexico

     In 1991, I moved ‘Out West’ from ‘Back East’. Just saying that makes me laugh because I think of Jerry Seinfeld’s 2017 Netflix special “Jerry before Seinfeld” when he talks about his family moving from Brooklyn to Long Island. He observes that “…we moved out from the city to ‘on Long Island’. Long Island is not one of the places (that you go ‘in to’) – you can’t get in it, you just stay on it.”

    As someone who grew up ‘Back East’, I never say ‘Back West’. It is always ‘Out West’. I’ll mention that, “I moved ‘Out West’,” or ‘“Out West’ the food is spicier.” Likewise, I haven’t heard the term ’Out East’. Being from New York State, I always visit my mom and brother ‘Back East’. I’ve also voiced to Colorado grape growers that, “‘Back East’, on the north fork of Long Island, moss grows on the ground between the vines in the vineyards and the air smells salty. You can even taste it in the wines. It is amazing how the gewurtztraminer pairs super smoothly with the local oysters and fried clams. I suppose that the wine grown in a certain location goes well with foods from that location!”

Theoretically, if I grew up in Salida, Colorado and moved to Portland, Maine to work on a lobster boat, then I could say, “I moved ‘Out East’ to work on a lobster boat. I’m sitting on a lot of Long Island Gewurtztraminer. and they pair great together!”. Adding, “At Thanksgiving, I go ‘Back West’ to visit my family and eat turkey tacos with delicious Colorado wine. They make a damn tasty Rosato at Vino Salida that we love!”.

   Nevertheless, I did not grow up in Salida. My journey to the majestic Colorado mountain valley that I call home started with a move from Northern New York to Northern New Mexico. Looking back now, I realize that moving ‘Out West’ evolved quite naturally. I was slowly getting restless as a teenager in Tupper Lake, landlocked in a small mountain town at the center of the Adirondack State Park. My home life was horrible; a situation that I desperately needed to flee. Thankfully, high school was a place I could escape to. It was a destination where I could work on projects that interested me and socialize with other like-minded people.

In addition to my adventurous experiments with winemaking in tenth grade, I found many other outlets for creativity. I primarily focused on getting perfect grades (so that I would get positive praise at home), but other activities that interested me were creating art, playing sports, working backstage on theatrical productions, and looking for love in all the wrong places. When I finally arrived at high school graduation, my strive for perfection had paid off. I graduated as Class of 1987 Valedictorian and immediately headed off to university the next fall to study art. My travelling had officially started!

     I admit that my time in university was a lot of fun, coupled with a lot of learning. But, I grew fidgety once again. By the time I was a senior, weekly phone calls with my mother had become stern speeches on why I should stay in school and graduate. Her persistence kept me engaged long enough to finish my commitment. I completed four years of art school, earning an Associates of Applied Science degree in Commercial Illustration at Cazenovia College in Central New York, and a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in Sculpture at Purchase College, State University of New York, just north of New York City. I attended my very last graduation ceremony in 1991 with immense joy. Yay!

Now what do I do? How do I earn money? Where do I live? So many questions came to me, from both my own head and from the mouths of every working adult I knew. I had no answers or firm ideas. I felt lost. Yet, there was one thought, one inspiration that had chanced my way just before graduation. Maybe I should explore the possibilities of it.?

     In early May of 1991, my girlfriend at the time, Sallie Ann, also a Sculpture major, asked me if I wanted to go with her to visit some family friends ‘on the Island’. They had just returned from a vacation in Santa Fe, New Mexico and wanted to share their adventure with food and a slide show. “That sounds fun,” I said, and so we headed off for a Saturday afternoon presentation. We were, to say the least, simply amazed by the photographs and stories of their escapades.

The images were spectacular enough for the New Mexico Chamber of Commerce, showing rich blue skyscapes and sunsets, historic adobe buildings, colorful desert wildflowers and cactus. There were deep, dark blue, mysterious looking mountains as a backdrop to rainbows, thunderstorms and sun. “New Mexico has 300 days of sunshine,” they said. That sounded mind-boggling good to me. During the long cold winters in New York, it is normal to only see the sun a couple of times from October through April. In Colorado, people call into work for a powder day; in New York, they call into work for a sunny day.

When Sallie Ann and I got back home, the experience stuck with us. Talk of traveling to New Mexico after college started to become regular around our apartment. We could just load up some clothes and a few belongings into her new Honda Civic and go. We had a mutual friend, Tina, from New Jersey that graduated with us, and she was driving to Tempe, Arizona to attend graduate school. What if we traveled with her, a little Art Convoy heading west, camping along the way to stretch our dollars and see America? We could just show up in Santa Fe and start our lives fresh. What would we find? Where would we live? What kind of jobs would we get?

This all sounded increasingly exciting to us, and Tina was onboard for the adventure. The spell of the “Land of Enchantment” had been cast, and we decided to move to Santa Fe immediately. We headed out, meeting Tina in New Jersey and started camping out across America. Our Art Convoy weaved its way through New Jersey, Delaware, Maryland, West Virginia, Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, and, finally arrived in New Mexico.

There were many memorable highlights for me along the way, including my first wine experience as an adult. However, these stories will have to wait until my next reminiscing account of traveling ‘Out West’. I’ll talk to you soon from a campground somewhere in Kentucky. Salute!

I made my first wines in high school

     In high school, I was a straight-laced, nerdy geek: studying ferociously for tests, memorizing geography and history, and always trying to get A+/100 scores. It was a drive for perfection that I inherited quite honestly. As other kids were amusing themselves by playing sports and goofing off, I was having fun with education.

     As it turns out, I also had a deep fascination with math and science. Ninth grade Algebra and Chemistry went so smoothly that I headed full steam ahead into Trigonometry and Biology the following year. My brain couldn’t get enough of solving problems, using formulas, and learning what made the world tick. There seemed to be a new learning adventure waiting for me every time I flipped a page in my text books.

     One day, I showed up for tenth grade Biology with Mr. Grulich and my life changed forever. You see, that day is the day that Mr. Grulich taught us about microbiology: tiny, microscopic creatures that couldn’t be seen, but comprised a totally invisible universe unto themselves. As Mr. Grulich talked about Louis Pasteur and the visible discovery of microbes through the use of microscopes, the inevitable subject of fermentation came up. By using microscopic creatures, men and women were able to create wine and beer.

     Wow! This was a revelation that blew my mind. As an artist uses paint and canvas to create paintings, as a cook uses raw vegetables and meat to create dinner, a winemaker could use grapes and yeast to create wine? All you needed was yeast and sugar? Well, that was enough information for me to start my own experiment at home in my lockable armoire!

     Being a cook for quite some time already, I looked around the kitchen at home for something, anything to make wine with. I found bread yeast. Microbes. CHECK! Scouring the freezer turned up some frozen orange juice. After adding warm water to this, I enthusiastically blended in some white sugar from the pantry. Fruit and sugar. CHECK! I then rehydrated the yeast and added it to the sugary orange juice mixture. Finally, I funneled the frothy orange concoction into a clean milk jug and added a balloon to the top, placing it into my armoire. My covert fermentation operation was officially underway.

     Now, all I had to do was wait. This was a time in my life when my mother repeatedly verbalized that “Patience is a Virtue.” I had no idea what she was talking about, and it took me decades to learn what she meant. I constantly checked my experiment, sometimes up to four times per day. I watched it transform from a lifeless, cloudy liquid to a boiling effervescent life form, inflating the balloon to its max. Eventually, the balloon deflated and there seemed to be no more activity. It must be ready to drink, I concluded.

     I poured myself a big glass of still fizzy “wine” and sipped it slowly on the couch. Surely, the wine was going to make me feel a certain way. How long does it take to feel anything? What will it feel like? Blind faith coupled with scientific enthusiasm kept me sipping, and sipping, and sipping. I had no answers to any of these questions, but I did know one thing immediately: it tasted absolutely awful! It was yeasty and acidic and made me feel horrifically bloated.

     I wasn’t feeling any specialness from this beverage, until I stood up: BOOM, it hit me! I felt pleasantly light headed and more than a little loopy. It felt like going around on a merry-go-round and feeling the high of extreme dizziness. Wow! Intoxication was a different feeling altogether, and I enjoyed it.

     By this time, it had gotten dark and started raining. I was quickly getting hungry; my first case of the “wine munchies”. I decided to ride my bike a couple of miles to get a burger and satisfy my cravings. When I got on my bike, the real adventure began. It was one my best bike rides ever, racing through huge rain puddles, tripped out by the reflections of lights on the wet streets, and drunk ordering through the drive-thru. What a great time. My first wine “trip” ever.

     I was hooked, but only for a short time. Again, patience wasn’t a virtue quite yet in my life. After finishing the Orange Wine, I moved on to one more batch: this time the featured frozen juice concentrate was Welch’s Grape juice. That was to be the end of my winemaking in New York State. More winemaking adventures were to re-appear for me in Denver, Colorado. But, that’s another story for this Colorado winemaker…

Taste the answer in every bottle

After moving to Tupper Lake, I became more and more interested in the expressive outlet of art. This early development of artistic experience and skills directly influenced my future careers in cooking, business, and Colorado winemaking by giving me a foundation to approach projects in a creative way.

Art classes started very early in my life. Every grade in elementary school had time dedicated for creating art. I loved it all: drawing with crayons, painting pictures with fingers and brushes, building structures with glue and popsicle sticks, making paper mache sculptures, cutting and pasting fabric into collages.

There were no rules as far as I was concerned. It was fun and easy, tapping into a part of my brain that reduced anxiety and stress. A flowing of feel-good energy seemed to take over my whole being when I was playing with art.

As the years progressed, my passion for creating art intensified. By my high school junior year, I had met all academic requirements for math and science and decided to double up on art classes. I supplemented my learning with wood and metal shop classes, getting more of a taste for sculpture. Figure and still life drawing, matting and framing, photography, and taking field trips to art museums all added to the experience. I was in heaven and a state of a wonder at what the world had to offer.

When it came time to choose a direction for college, it was a no brainer. I focused on Commercial Illustration and Sculpture, which meant that I would have fun classes in Painting, Figure Drawing, Photography, Video, Art History, Environmental Installations and Wood Shop.

One question, however, kept popping up in each class. Almost every teacher in my four years asked the same question. One that would perplex my colleagues and I, annoying us over and over and over. A question that now ranks in my mind as the most important question for a creative person to be asked: “What is the difference between ART and CRAFT?”

I don’t remember any of the answers that were given to this question at the time. However, after living a creative life through art, food, business, and Colorado wine, I finally feel confident in my answer…

ART is almost indescribable, like the words Umami and Terroir. It is, in essence, the creative spirit and collective inspiration of an individual. Additionally, the term ART can be attributed to the final product, as in “this bottle of Colorado wine is a work of ART!”

CRAFT, on the other hand, speaks to the process of each creative project: from idea, to design, to collecting materials, to using these materials in a unique way. Even the way a creation is presented to the audience is part of the process, or CRAFT. The term CRAFT can also be a verb, as in “he is crafting a Colorado Wine.” In short, the process to create a work of ART is called CRAFT.

So, why is this question important to me? I feel that being consistently aware of ART and CRAFT in my daily life helps me focus energy as a creative person. It assists me in reaching new heights with my products, whether it be a painting, a special meal, or a new batch of wine.

Answering this question daily also helps me remember that there are no rules. For me, winemaking is fun, easy, and taps into a part of my brain that reduces anxiety and stress. A flowing of feel-good energy takes over my whole being as I craft bottles of liquid art. Through this daily meditation, I hope to create some of the best Colorado wines in the Rocky Mountain region.

The beginning of my Colorado winemaking career

I’ve been reading other winemaker’s stories lately. Particularly fascinating to me have been the beginnings and development of California winemakers such as Mike Grgich, Warren Winiarski, Merry Edwards and Paul Hobbs. As a passionate winemaker myself, their long lasting dedication to careers in winemaking and the wine business inspire me on my journey to craft the best Colorado wine in the Rocky Mountains.

In my research for more stories, I recently came across an interesting article by Cathy Huyghe. Cathy writes about the people, business and politics of the wine industry. This specific article was written for Forbes and is called, “The Most Important Question to Ask a Winemaker,” and got my attention immediately. She starts her article with a challenge and the inspiration for my blog, saying, “This gets my vote as the most important question to ever ask a winemaker: Ask them to tell you their story. And then ask them to tell their story… without mentioning the wine.” Cathy credits the idea to a colleague of hers, Dr. Damien Wilson, director of the Wine Business program at the Burgundy School of Business in Dijon, France.

So, this is the beginning of my story, the story of a Colorado winemaker being born…literally.

I was born Stephen Francis Flynn in Jersey City, New Jersey, one of two identical twin babies. My parents were working in Manhattan and living in Jersey at the time. They had both grown up on the north shore of Long Island, and we all moved back there shortly after my birth. The future looked bright and positive for my folks, being surrounded by family to help raise the babies and both having new higher paying jobs.

But, my mother was growing restless. She was uncomfortable during the hot, humid Long Island summers, and the constant growing noise of crowded Suburbia was weighing heavy on her peace of mind. It was time to make a drastic change. She desperately wanted to raise her boys in a quiet, peaceful place. A place that had cool summer nights. A place that had inspiring views far away from the concrete jungle that Long Island was becoming.

Such an place existed, and she found it: Tupper Lake, New York. A quiet lumber industry community in the picturesque Adirondack mountains of northern New York State. This is where she would plant her new family’s roots, and where I would become extremely passionate about the true loves of my life: Art, Food and Colorado Wine.

There has been much conversation among Colorado winemakers and grape growers about sparkling wine production and the many forms it could take in our state: Méthode Champenois (the style produced in the Champagne region of France), Charmat-method (the style produced in Italy for Prosecco), forced carbonation (the style used in hard ciders and beer), and Pét-Nat (short for Pétillant Naturel, which translates to “Naturally Sparkling”).

I’ve always been fascinated by bubbles in wine. It’s magical soft texture, high acidity dancing on my tongue, and the swirling trails of bubbles that travel up from the bottom of the glass. Colorado grows plenty of white grapes that lend themselves to the style, so I thought it would be a great wine to include in the Vino Salida lineup eventually, but I had heard that it was a difficult style to produce.

Then, while traveling in Quebec with my mom in May 2018, just south of Montreal on La Route de Vins, I spotted a small vignoble (winery), Château de Cartes (House of Cards). We pulled in and tasted through the interesting and tasty wines and ciders. The gentleman pouring the wines for us turned out to be the owner and winemaker, Stephane Lamarre! We got into a very long and fun conversation about his winemaking journey and products and my winery in Colorado. I noticed that he had a Pét-Nat on the tasting sheet, but it was sold out. I told him that I heard it was hard to craft this style of wine, but he assured me that it was easy.

He suddenly got a twinkle in his eye and smiled the biggest smile I’d ever seen in Quebec, and said, “I’ll be right back”. He disappeared down a staircase, which turned out to be his sparkling wine aging room complete with riddling racks, and came up with an unlabeled bottle with a crown cap. He popped the cap off and proceeded to pour the three of us a generous tasting of his next Pét-Nat to be released in July 2018. I was amazed and thoroughly inspired. It was a spiritual experience, complete with magic and mystery. Bright fruit aromas and acidity, supple bubble textures, and just a touch of yeast. I couldn’t imagine that this was an easy product to make. Either way, he had done a fine job crafting a damn tasty wine.

A couple of months later in August 2018, back home in Colorado, I was touring the Ambelos Vineyards in Palisade with grower Neil Jaquet. Neil has some Aromella and Traminette grapes growing (both cold hardy varieties) and mentioned that they would probably produce a tasty sparkling wine since they had a genetic pool of Gewurtztraminer and Muscat, both aromatic vinifera grape varieties. I told him the story of my Quebecois Pét-Nat experience with Stephane, and we both got excited about a collaboration. Neil would harvest the grapes at the perfect moment for a sparkling wine (high acidity and low sugar), and I would consult with Stephane to craft a Vino Salida Pét-Nat. It was easy, after all, or so I’d heard. I called Stephane, and he was in!

Timing goes very fast with this style of wine, as it turns out. The grapes were picked at the end of August and crushed and pressed. Fermentation went fairly quickly, but slowed down by the middle of September. The wine was coarse filtered, a yeast addition was made, and then bottled on September 22. Everyone involved was quite nervous, as we were waiting for the wine to continue to ferment in the bottle (hopefully not exploding) and form the tiny bubbles that define a sparkling wine.

By spring, we had tried several bottles (okay, maybe more) and determined the Colorado Pét-Nat a success! Labels were ordered, and we released our first Pét-Nat in August 2019. Our customers have been pleasantly surprised that this is a Colorado-grown product, being so sophisticated in taste and appearance. We have toasted many times to the success of this cross-cultural, international collaboration with Stephane and look forward to another experimental Pét-Nat for Harvest 2020. Maybe a Rosé crafted with red grapes. All in all, with the nervousness aside, Stephane made our Vino Salida experience with Pét-Nat easy. Merci Beaucoup, Stephane. Santé!