Harvest — It’s That Time Of Year . . .

. . . when thieves steal grapes straight off the vines:

Thieves using a harvesting machine have stolen the entire crop of a Languedoc-Roussillon vineyard.

Grower Roland Cavaille his vineyards in Villeneuve-les-Beziers were targetted on Sunday night. Thieves took advantage of a full moon, and used a harvesting machine to steal 30 tonnes of Cabernet Sauvignon grapes.

You might be wondering, as I was, how one steals an entire vineyard, but the folks at Château Bauduc in the Bordeaux region say that it’s not as difficult as you would think:

One feature of so many Châteaux, which most wine lovers are unaware of, is just how spread out the parcels can be. Although some Châteaux, like the 33 hectares of Troplong Mondot in St-Emilion, have vines that surround the Château as a single entity, this is surprisingly unusual. A few of the great Cru Classés of the Médoc have as many as 40 to 50 different plots, many of which are quite a trek from the Château itself.

. . .

With a small amount of local knowledge, it wouldn’t be tricky to steal grapes under cover of darkness.

The sight and sound of harvesting machines, with tractors and trailers in tow, is very common right now. Around St-Emilion today, for example, I saw at least 20 machines in operation.

And it’s not just this one story — thieves also hit a Washington vineyard recently:

Sometime between Sept. 15 and Monday, someone slipped into Grand Reve Vineyard near Col Solare and took about 1.25 tons of Mourvedre, valued at about $4,000. Benton County sheriff’s officials have no suspects.

. . .

It’s not the first time grapes have been stolen on Red Mountain. [Grand Reve vineyard manager and partner Ryan] Johnson, who also manages the world-renowned Ciel du Cheval vineyard across from Kiona Vineyards Winery on Sunset Road, remembers in 2001 when someone went into a Cabernet Sauvignon block and stole several hundred pounds of grapes.

Johnson’s operation is high profile, literally and figuratively. His vineyard is just above iconic Col Solare and is the highest on Red Mountain, making the vineyard easily visible from Interstate 82. His operation also has received a lot of press from wine publications. This vineyard was planted in 2008.

“It’s a bit isolated up there, especially when Col Solare is closed,” he said. “If I was going to be a jerk, I’d steal from Ciel du Cheval or Klipsun, but you’d be more likely to get caught. There are not a lot of lights up by Grand Reve.”

If the thieves came in the middle of the night, they would have had to use five-gallon buckets pick the grapes, then dump them into a pickup, which a ton of grapes likely would fill. Something like that would take more than an hour, he figured. Johnson said whoever stole that amount of grapes likely is making a commercial wine “or a whole lot of garage wine.”

Latest Humpday Tipple: Cabernet Sauvignon

We tasted Cabernet Sauvignon last night:

I was really excited to try some high-end Cabernet/Bordeaux. There’s a thrill in going to the wine store and having the helpful clerk have to unlock the special bin that cradles some high-priced bottle. And it helps when friends pitch in to defray the cost.

I have to say though — and this was a unanimous conclusion by the Tipplers — that the fan favorite was the Chilean Cousiño Macul Cabernet Sauvignon. For me, it was the first time I’ve tasted a Cabernet that had clearly identifiable Cabernet qualities like berries and especially black pepper, which I’ve heard happens in Cabernet but never actually tasted or smelled. And at $15.99, this was a great deal.

Which isn’t to say that the Pride Mountain Cabernet at $74.99 wasn’t also really good — it was. Brother Michael, Jen and I tasted the 2007 vintage when we visited Pride Mountain back in March. I remember it being really good. I also assumed that I’d never get to drink it ever again because we just don’t buy $66 bottles of wine, even from the winery.

And then there was the Château Rauzan-Ségla Margaux. We got out our big fancy elegant decanter and let the thing breathe. There was a great buildup in my mind as the decanter squatted there all smug and knowing while we tasted the other five bottles. And then we tasted it. And it was only OK. And at $73.97, that was a little disappointing. (Though to be fair, it did taste good with the gouda cheese we had on hand.)

Maybe part of it, like Jen explained to us, is that Bordeaux wines aren’t supposed to be big flavorfuls of fantastic awesomeness that you sit back and chew on while your mind blows. Maybe we were drinking it too soon (this was a 2006). Maybe 2006 wasn’t a great Bordeaux year (it wasn’t). Or maybe, for all I know I know about how “Americans” love “big fruit” and such and how of course I don’t expect to want to have big jammy fruity drug trip-esque wine experiences, I actually kind of want big jammy fruity drug trip-esque wine experiences. I don’t mean that I want big jammy high-alcohol Zinfandels but rather that I have an expectation that when I’m drinking a good wine — or god willing, a great wine — and pairing that thing with good or even great food then some mysterious synergistic brilliance will take over and . . . I will have my mind blown. When a pairing is really good I sometimes joke that that particular pairing is “like taking drugs” — I think I’ve told a server that once or twice and they probably were like “Dude, you’re an idiot,” but it’s true — sometimes the flavors pop out and burst and turn into something even more wonderful than the sum of its parts — like viticultural MSG. And maybe this is what it means when they say that wines are crafted for “American” tastes. This all made me feel very small.

But going back to the Cousiño Macul — and we will, since it’s a great value! — the flavors in this New World wine shimmered in ways that you only dream about when you read tasting notes and believe in the back of your mind that for all your experience drinking wine you’ll probably never really understand what it means to detect notes of “bay leaf” or “wet hay.” With the Cousiño Macul we actually were able to detect some of those ephemeral flavors that seem to zip off the tongue of intelligent wine folks. That was cool.

Elsewhere, I was the joker who said the Château Rauzan-Ségla smelled like “lightning” — I was actually riffing off of Tippler Blakeney’s comment that it smelled like “static electricity.” In my gut, I understood what she was saying and I was trying to visualize that smell and I was grasping for words and I think it happened to be the exact moment when a storm was blowing through town and I saw lightning through the window . . . I didn’t actually think that Jen would write that down. But it was a distinctive smell, for sure. I think it was me wanting to feel something powerful and electric and being frustrated that the wine just kind of dangled a wine-ness out there with out letting you in. Or maybe I was kind of tipsy by that point — it’s perfectly possible.

More wine later . . .