Good Friends We Have Had, Good Friends We Lost

'Brut Force With a Touch of Finesse'

The single-most enlivening part of my time in the wine industry, without a doubt, has been the people I’ve met. People drive me. Their quirks, life stories, clothing choices, cleanliness, eating habits, accents… they’re fascinating. From high-profile sommeliers to legendary winemakers and writers, I’ve shared some amazing dinners, been welcomed into people’s homes, and popped some stellar corks at my relatively young age. Those who have made my experiences most worthwhile up to this point, however, are all the young people I’ve met during my stint as a ‘traveling winemaker’. Sadly, last week I learned that one of those bright young stars is no longer with us. 

Niki Dow was a young guy from New Zealand I met last year during my brief ‘harvest’ time in California. He shared a tiny room in a modest suburban Santa Rosa apartment with some friends who were working at a different local winery. He was a seamless counterpart in the cellar. His constant, quick-witted grin was enough to make you laugh in even the most stressful situations, or elicit laughter in the calmest of times. He put up with the crazy antics of his Moldovan roommate ‘John’ who didn’t speak a lick of English, and even managed to convince us all that John was a good guy at heart, despite some of his outward antics. Niki lightened the mood for anyone who cared to share in conversation. His eloquent stories of his rugby days from college made me wish I could have spent time as a fit young kiwi bloke; I was stoked to get an old rugby shirt of his when he moved back to NZ, even though it had a few holes in it and plenty of stains from a tough vintage. His physical aptitude was apparent, and he seemed to be the type that succeeded in every task he took on. Nonetheless, he possessed the ‘Kiwi-Humble’ I’ve come to know and love; so overwhelmingly sarcastic and jabbing (in a lighthearted sense) upon first impression, but in the end full of compassion and friendship. Nik, as I knew him, embodied all that I’ve come to love about harvest. A young person, fresh out of school with the world ahead of him, when it was easier to find a fulltime, well-paying job at home and settle into normalcy he embarked on a journey to follow his dreams, better his craft and expand his world outlook.

With a number of vintages under my belt I’ve gotten pretty good at saying goodbye. We, as seasonal harvest workers spend so many hours together in a relatively short timeframe. Best friends are made alongside the wine, and when it’s all said and done, everyone usually parts ways and moves on to the next job. I have fostered some high quality friendships and kept in touch with a few people, but have also lost touch with many more I was sure to see again. The wine industry is so small though that you never know when you might one day cross paths with an old friend. I somehow figured that would happen with Nik so his passing hit me like a bag of bricks. Maybe it’s also because it could have been me if I hadn’t decided to stay home this vintage. Maybe because it’s a harsh realization of hope, so quickly lost. He was in Portugal working for a world-class Port producer, a job that isn’t given to just anyone. Only 23 years old, he was surely brimming with excitement and infusing the locals with his positively high-octane energy. They were surely challenged, yet humbled by his work ethic, so notable it has inspired a Facebook tribute group called ‘TheLegacy of the War Donkey-Niki Dow’.  I encourage you to check it out.

After sorting through the emotions in his passing, I move forth with a renewed energy and outlook. I’ve reached out to a few old friends who deserve a better effort from me. I’m going to do a better job of busying myself with work that I truly love, push myself to physical and intellectual extremes, and be sure to laugh a little more often, knowing that today could be my last.

Cheers to you Nik! You will be missed, but your legend will live on and inspire us all.

New Directions

Ciao all.
Sorry I've been a bit lax in my posts lately. I've been busy, been in a funk, been trying to try my hand at other things, and been writing for tktwincities about food and wine in Minneapolis. I'm back. I've decided that I need to have a new focus with my wine writing. There are soooooooo many wine blogs out there, but I won't say too many because I'm so glad to see that so many people have taken their passion for wine, put it up on the web, and shared it for everyone else to experience and soak up.

I feel that my most common passion stems from experiencing wine from a number of aspects, hence 'feelthewine.' I've thought long and hard about how much of a problem I have with the 100 point scale, and the fact of the matter is, if the setting is right, more times than not, I'll rate a wine in the high 90's, unless of course it's a total dog. I'd like to focus on what kind of wine goes best with certain situations. I'd like to tell stories about what I am doing and why I choose certain wines to go with it. Have you ever had a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc after mowing the lawn? The crisp freshness relaxes your sweaty being after a few hours slaving away, while the grassy-ness comes out even more as the fresh-cut-grass aroma emits from the terroir surrounding. Wine pairing is not just for food in my eyes. I'd like to highlight the back stories about the producers, which helps immensly in knowing and appreciating a wine. Knowing that the vines are over 100 years old or that the winemaker has no formal training in wine-making and used to be a skateboarder are HUGE in my eyes when appreciating a wine. With an upcoming trip to Burgundy to work the harvest I'd also like to capture stories and experiences that most of you won't likely ever encounter in your daily life. I'm working on adding a video element to the works. Until then, please keep your eyes peeled for things to come. Most importantly, I really really want all of my readers to bring forth suggestions as to what they would like to see from my content. Most of you know me, my strengths and weaknesses. What do you think I should focus on regarding wine? Please be honest, open, and don't hold back. Be with me on the journey and I can't wait for things to come.

Cheers,
DW

email me: dougrweber@gmail.com
or comment below.

The Year of Syrah

Happy New Year Everybody!

Every past year's end spurs new ideas and resolutions. I am quite content and inspired at how I've grown in the last year; It opened with a fit of madness in a square in Florence that was followed by a couple months exploring the Renaissance city and its environs, a stint on a farmstead in the Umbrian Countryside, and a brief respite at home in Cedarburg. Soon-after I moved to Minneapolis to commence a new chapter in the city and a new wine-buying job in the North Suburbs. My job is steady and life is good, and I look forward to the year to come.

We had a meeting today at work focusing on projections for the new year. It has been deemed, unofficially, as 'the year of wine'. I hope that as the economy takes an upturn, that wine will continue to grow in the daily lives of my friends, family and customers. It has led me, inadvertently to come up with my own new year's wine resolution (among others). Drink more SYRAH! While I've honed in on the popular tastes and trends of the wine-drinking public, I feel that this lovely, large grape has so much unexplored and forgotten potential as a whole. My goal is to drink more of it, learn more about where it comes from, how its made, its history, and pass that on to anyone I can. From Hawke's Bay in New Zealand, to blends in the Rhone region of France, the beefy Shiraz's of Australia, or the progressive juice in Washington, there's much to be said, and discovered.

I'm about to uncork a bottle of 2008 Zepaltas Rosella's Vineyard Syrah from the Santa Lucia Higlands in central California. Although I'm partial to this producer, one of my favorites not only because I worked there, but because the wines truly tell a story, the bounty that awaits is tickling my tongue. Such a versatile food and party wine with quite a bit of character, there's no reason that people should say, 'Syrah sucks'! It's complex enough to baffle in a blind tasting, yet in the New World, approachable enough to quench the palates of the more pedestrian palate. Therefore, I hereby declare 2011 as 'The Year of Syrah'. Bear, and drink with me friends. We are in for an interesting and enlightening next few months.

Cheers.