Harvest Dreams

I have a sheet of paper in the back of my journal, a bucket list of hopes, dreams, and moments I'd like to achieve in this lifetime. Many have been crossed off, some simplistic, some complex. Learn to make a perfect egg, see all of my girlfriends meet the man of their dreams, and be wooed with wild passion. Swim with whales and not get eaten, and learn to make wine. Well, this past month, I can confidently cross that one off my list. In early September, a few students and I flew to Ribera del Duero, to harvest, and make wine with Bendito Destino, a collaborative venture with Guillermo Cruz and Terry Kandylis. We all have an idealogy of what good wine is, but the actual concepts involved in making it are extensive. Hand harvesting, hand destemming, boutique wine, and gravity press are words until your feet rot from excessively wet shoes. Your fingernails are permanently stained red, and you get your body in a vat of fermenting grapes and feel the temperature change and frothy residue on your legs. Working 17-hour days is not for the faint, and I can honestly say that had it not been for my co-workers, a decent filling meal mid-day, and a long siesta, I would have not made it. Ribera sits atop a plateau and despite being inland, the winds and continental climate bring a cool breeze and temperature shifts. Nights we huddled up after the final clean, popped beers, and scoffed down tins of sardines. Each day, sometimes twice, cartons of grapes would arrive as Guillermo and his team would bring in loads harvested late at night, or mid-day. We'd map out the plan of attack, and get practical lessons on colour, botrytis, and grape selection. Terry drove us to the various sites, showed us the vineyards that had been resuscitated, and now offered up bunches of Garnacha, Albillo, and Tempranillo. The landscapes were sweeping, a mix of dry desert and pine nut trees. The rivers cut through the scapes, and tiny cellars nestled into the hillsides. The natives of the region came to watch us, Guillermo and Terry told us that initially, everyone protested about trying to bring life to old vineyards, but when you taste the wines and see the passion emblazoned in both, you get it. One day, a man came as we were crushing, he walked about looking at every aspect of what we did. I got a bit nervous and asked my workmate Javier who this man was. He told me, he's a grower from the area, and the smile on his face was pure pride, his region was being represented well. He offered up a parcel of grapes, a single vineyard he was proud to show. That is the region of Penafiel, and more specifically Canalejas de Peñafiel. Every person we met, welcomed our little tribe with open arms, bottles of wine, and service unlike I've yet to see, we became family, and friendships were forged. I knew that it wasn't just a cross of a list that I'd accomplished, rather a part of me had mixed in and found itself.