Many wine enthusiasts are aware that cabernet sauvignon is the result of a crossing that happened long ago between sauvignon blanc and cabernet franc, but have you ever wondered just how we know that? Why do we know the parents of some grapes and not others?
Arriving at night at an airport at the end of a journey, sometimes it’s hard to realize how remote a location you’re in until you start driving around the next day. This is what happened to me when I landed in Yerevan, the capital of Armenia, a few weeks ago.
Fan: Do all wine snobs always wave their pinkies in the air? Law: I drink beer, so I don't know. The "wine snob" is a pernicious villain in modern America, a witch of Salem that must frequently be rooted out and publicly flogged.
Imagine investing years of work developing and marketing a wine brand, and then being accused of infringing a deep-pocketed company’s trademark. It would stop you dead in your tracks.
As I strolled through Jean-Pierre Wolff’s vineyard, I found myself asking, “what do turtles have to do with wine?” I pondered if the turtles emerged from their home to help with harvest, if the shelled creatures imparted a bit of nuance to the terroir of the vineyard.
In every wine region there is at least one wine that manages capture one’s personal impressions of that region—its colors, smells, and the energy of the place.
Little did I know, seven years ago, in 2005, when I sat down to prepare the petition to establish the new Wisconsin Ledge AVA for northeast Wisconsin, that I would end up with a 200-page document, over 100 exhibits, and just over 2500 hours of invested time.