The start of my backyard vino project.
If there's anything in my history that even remotely resembles a family business or legacy, it's art and wine, and given my little obsession with trying to make everything myself I just couldn't resist trying to make my own wine. And besides, I couldn't pass up free grapes.
My dad grows grapes in the Napa Valley (in the ultra-desireable Howell Mountain region if we want to get technical... and boastful). His pretty vines:
This is what I was after, the "second crop" or little bunches that are too time-consuming to pick for profit and that aren't quite ripe when the first crop is picked:
My brother, helping to pick:
My dad and brother, taking a break from picking. Note the essential tool of this enterprise, those handy recycled kitty litter buckets:
Ready to crush:
Putting the grapes through the crusher we borrowed from my dad's friend. Thank goodness. I thought I'd have to do it by hand and it would take hours. This little toy took about 30 minutes:
All crushed and ready to take home in those handy kitty litter buckets:
My dad knows all the right people for this little project. His friend hooked me up with the right kind of chemicals and enzymes and yeast, and top secret protocols from the winery he works at. The brew is now happily fermenting in a big bin in my backyard, awaiting daily punchdowns and the next step in what is looking like it will be a very long and involved (but hopefully rewarding) process.
My dad grows grapes in the Napa Valley (in the ultra-desireable Howell Mountain region if we want to get technical... and boastful). His pretty vines:
This is what I was after, the "second crop" or little bunches that are too time-consuming to pick for profit and that aren't quite ripe when the first crop is picked:
My brother, helping to pick:
My dad and brother, taking a break from picking. Note the essential tool of this enterprise, those handy recycled kitty litter buckets:
Ready to crush:
Putting the grapes through the crusher we borrowed from my dad's friend. Thank goodness. I thought I'd have to do it by hand and it would take hours. This little toy took about 30 minutes:
All crushed and ready to take home in those handy kitty litter buckets:
My dad knows all the right people for this little project. His friend hooked me up with the right kind of chemicals and enzymes and yeast, and top secret protocols from the winery he works at. The brew is now happily fermenting in a big bin in my backyard, awaiting daily punchdowns and the next step in what is looking like it will be a very long and involved (but hopefully rewarding) process.