Grafted In (Part I/II)

A Heritage
For those outside of wine, you may not be familiar with some of the viticultural history of the Napa Valley. Today, the Valley has become synonymous with “Napa Cab” which refers the widespread planting and popularity of Cabernet Sauvignon. Napa’s earliest agricultural history was planted to field blends of “mission grapes,” diversified fruit tree orchards and even livestock. The now famous “Judgement of Paris” put the New World on the map of wines, and vineyards of old were ripped out and planted to the now profitable Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon. As I previously mentioned, there were a few families that held on to their heritage plantings, including the Frediani’s who continued to cultivate Charbono, Petite Syrah, Grenache and Zinfandel.

Foundation Plant Services

Heritage vineyards not only have a rich political and economic history (think prohibition), but they have also had to endure tough biological threats as well. In the agricultural world, grapes are particularly susceptible to Red Blotch, Pierce’s Disease and the vectors of such diseases like the Glassy Winged Sharpshooter. Back in the late 1950s, severe virus disease struck California vineyards and spurred UC and USDA scientists to develop methods for grape virus disease detection and disease elimination. One organization, Foundation Plant Services (FPS), was formed as the only dedicated grape importation facility in the United States. Highly sought-after foreign grape selections are processed through quarantine for the grape and wine industries.

Ring Ring

Me: “Hello, my name is John. I’m looking for clean (disease free) Charbono.”
FPS: “One moment while I check. It looks like we have 30.”
Me: 30 uhhhh?
FPS: 30 total plants.
Me: (interupts) I’ll take them, all of them.

Sunridge Nurseries

Let me summarize the aforementioned for a brief second. There were only 30 Charbono plants in the entire United States which had been tested and certified to be disease free. 30. This meant that our desire to plant Charbono just got more complicated: First, we had to find a willing an able nursery to accept our project. Second, the nursery would haVe the slow and steady task of taking 30 “mother” plants and creating over 550x “daughters” from the clean material. We’re forever indebted to Julian Clymer at Sunridge Nurseries who took our call and was willing to entertain our project in an effort to “bring Charbono back.”

And so it is. Charbono is back. We have planted roughly its’ 60th acre. The new heritage continues.

Grafted In (Part I/II)

The plants are here, all 550x of them, and it just got serious. Here’s a reminder about how we got here.

A Quick Recap

Work related travel frequently brings me through Napa Valley, and over time I have grown accustomed to stopping at one of my favorite wineries in Calistoga, T-Vine. On one occasion in early 2018, I was tasting through a flight when the tasting room manager wandered off menu and had a little fun. “Try this…” Here’s a varietal that has less than 60 acres in the United States. Here’s a plant that loves the hot days and cool nights of Calistoga. Here’s a varietal that we just can’t get enough of (literally). Enter Charbono.

Where can I get this?

After leaving the tasting room, I checked-in to my hotel and immediately got to work. I searched every major commercial grape nursery in California for Charbono. I searched databases, fired off e-mails, and even looked overseas. Nothing. The prospects for securing Charbono plant material from a commercial nursery was not looking good. And just like that, a calling of sorts ensued.

You know when you get excited about something, you occasionally throw out discretion? That’s me. After returning home, I shared my newly purchased bottle of Charbono with Sarah and got a little gutsy. “The Charbono was sourced at Frediani Vineyards in Calistoga, I’m just going to call them before my next trip.” And so I did. I called the patriarch of Charbono, Jim Frediani. I left a message a week ahead of time, telling him of my next trip to the Valley.

First Stop: Frediani Vineyards

Leaving a voice message at the home of a heritage grower and owner of one the most storied properties in the Napa Valley is just plain foolish. What business do I have, a nobody, in calling him? Hubris, I guess…

The phone rang. A week had gone by and I had actually forgot that I called. As I was packing the night before the trip, Jim Frediani called me. “John, got your message. Sounds like you are headed out this week. Stop on by. We’ll chat.” And so I did.

As I approached the driveway, I knew that I was setting foot on hallowed ground. I say that because the Frediani property offers a stark contrast against the backdrop of newer, more curated operations owned by those without a long history in the Napa Valley. Instead, the Frediani’s property looks worn in, like a baseball glove with patina. Vintage tractors, step-side trucks, and a dusty post and beam barn. Not refurbished antiques; real family heirlooms.

The Frediani family has been cultivating grapes in Calistoga since 1901. As for their Charbono, Jim suspects that it was planted around 1935. As we toured the property side by side, he regularly consulted his pocket notebook which carefully documented each planting block by block. T-Vine describes the timelessness that is embodied at the Frediani property: “The Frediani Vineyard is a museum of old vines and long-forgotten Napa Valley varieties. In a day and age where most heritage vineyards in Napa Valley are being ripped out and replaced with more profitable Cabernet Sauvignon, the Frediani Vineyard remains a place of refuge.”

As our hot and dusty tour came to an end, Jim pulled into the shade so we could chat. I told him that I loved his Charbono, that I wanted to grow it, but that I was having a hard time sourcing it. He paused for a bit, and then told me a story: “John, a young winemaker about your age came out to the property to check out our grapes and help with a pick. I couldn’t believe how well he was dressed; I don’t know if spends much time in the vineyards.” Jim indicated that nobody wants to be a grower; “winemaking is sexier”. He then turned and said to me in a satisfying tone, “I like that you want to grow, and I’ll help you if you want it.” Jim Frediani then proceeded to offer cuttings from his Charbono and make them available for grafting, free of charge. I came here hoping for just a bit of free advice; instead, he offered his very heritage.

Grafted In

This is all just so humbling for me. Thus far, most of the people that I have encountered in this industry have helpful, almost in a paternal sense. In every way, I feel like I am being grafted-in (no pun intended). There’s a rich history with some truly wonderful people, and they want you to share in their experience. It’s like a father saying to his son, or a teacher to his disciples, “this is bigger than us.” Friends, this is bigger than wine from rare rootstock, this is the way it ought to be.

Lérins Abbey: Saint-Honorat Island

The Enneagram 5’s heaven: live on an island, ignore your visitors, and cultivate a wildly beautiful space with intoxicants.

“The 21 monks that currently make up the community of the monastery of the Cistercian Congregation of the Immaculate Conception, have been cultivating their vines with skill and passion since the middle ages. Every stage (pruning, disbudding and harvest) is carried out by hand. The wine estate now comprises eight hectares with which monks have produced high quality wines recognised by professionals, but also liqueurs for 150 years.”

We're part of a cult.

I get a lot of raised eyebrows when I mention that we’re planting…Charbono? The nerd in me immediately breaks into details: “It’s rare” (blah blah blah #economics)… ”It loves diurnal weather patterns” (blah blah blah #hotdays) etc. How about something more simple: “I love it.” I’m not great with expression; for that, I’ll rely on artists like Matt Morris. He loves Charbono so much, that he’s the leader of a cult and even made a documentary about it. Here’s the “notes” from their last meeting. Could it be said any more perfectly?

Welcome Pepper!

Please welcome our new little guy. Sarah fell in love with this little guy’s brindle coloring and exclaimed, “Pepper!” It was game over.

Unlike Abbey’s whimsical coming to (Wine + Charity Auction = Abbey K.), our search for a “Livestock Guardian Dog” (LGD) was intentional. First, we knew we wanted to have better weed control without herbicides (money sink) and mowing (time sink). We also wanted to build up the soil, not chemically torch it. That’s when we knew that goats and sheep would be part of our future.

That said, we have been reluctant to run sheep and goats until their safety could be assured. Enter Pepper. Pepper’s parents are sheep protectors at Lori Kautz’ farm in Calaveras County. Pepper is (wait for it), (1) Spanish Mastiff, (2) Maremma, (3) Anatolian, and (4) Great Pyrenees. ALL wonderful LGD breeds, perfectly wrapped up in one Pepper!

Pepper K. DOB: 11/21/18

Merry Christmas!

The Golden Rule(s)

We have come to develop guiding principles which govern our stewardship of the land. First: “treat the land the way we’d want to be treated.” The simplicity here is almost silly. But here’s the test: Do our rhythms and practices bring life? If I were a honeybee, would I stop and forage in the abundance? If I were a grapevine, would I produce good fruit? 

The second conviction has to do with manual labor. If we didn’t like work, we wouldn’t have started a farm. That said, I deeply despise rhythms that constantly pit me against the land, especially when the routines don’t bring life. For example, nothing thrives on endless mowing, spraying, weeding, etc. Not me, and certainly not the land.

Cover Crops 

Today we planted a cover crop as way to reflect both of these guiding principles. The Organic Growers School concisely notes that “a cover crop is a crop you grow for the soil, instead of for your plate (emphasis mine). Cover crops add organic matter to the soil, and add nitrogen in a slow-release way that plants can handle. Cover crops can also act as mulches if managed correctly, improve soil physical properties in just one growing season, and attract beneficial insects and pollinators to your garden.”

We have chosen to plant two proprietary mixes from Kamprath Seed. The “Vineyard Mix” was sown between the vine rows and is composed of radish, mustard, oats, peas, and beans. This will be mowed at maturity and will decompose into the topsoil. The “Dryland Pasture Mix” is primarily composed of rye, clover and vetch. This blend was sown in the areas that will eventually contain our livestock, and will grown into a nice organic snack.  

A Little Theology

All of this “work” feels more like a privilege. With the help of others, we’re literally breathing life back into a physical space. There’s a Biblical principle here. Isn’t it interesting that Adam was given the responsibility to “work and cultivate” the Garden of Eden prior to the serpent’s deception? The sequence of events tells us something; namely, that work was never intended to be viewed as a punishment.

Work isn’t just “not punishment.” Our ability to tame wildness, introduce order, and navigate complexity are all indicators of what it means to “bear God’s image.” And when we bear God’s image, we are breathing life into the world around us, just like God breathed life into us. 

Natural Selection in Progress

The olives are in. Many thanks to our volunteer crew who took a big chunk out of the hardest work. It also created an opportunity shortly thereafter for the three of us, alongside Farmer William, to enjoy planting a few as a family. We we’re motivated: October weather was expected to provide ideal growing conditions, and it sure delivered. We had one good rain prior to planting, our daytime highs remained throttled in the mid-eighties, and the overnight lows were very comfortable. 

Oh Deer

Prior to planting, we spent a good portion of our Summer securing the most vulnerable portions of our property from deer. Shortly after planting, we noticed that the deer had taken a liking to our little trees. We moved in quickly to place tree cages around each planting and began using
motion-activated sprinklers (which I LOVE) to deter pests. We’ll monitor munching activity this Winter to ensure that all deer access is blocked prior to planting the grapes. 

Only the Strongest Survive

We followed the same process for each tree: (1) dig a healthy clearance and remove rocks, (2) build a mound of good soil with a mineral dust amendment, and (3) water in each tree with a mixture of beneficial bacteria, kelp extract and molasses. Even prior to feeding our deer, we had 1-2 plants show signs of unhappiness fairly early. Farmer William reminded me that “If they don’t make it, they don’t belong.” He’s right. For the trees that got a nibble, I’m sorry. But those that bounce back in the Spring will be ready for the world. 

But First, Olives.

We're planting olive trees, about 50 of them, and you are welcome to join us on October 6, 2108. I'll call them "plants" for now, as they're quite small. But they'll grow nicely into the 12' x 15' rows that we've staked for them. With a little irrigation, scarce pruning and tender care we should have more than a few gallons of olive oil to spare. 

We chose the Arbequina (Olea europaea "Arbequina") cultivar. Unlike Charbono (the rare grape varietal that we chose), Arbequina is quickly becoming the cultivar of choice for new plantings in California. Mild, buttery, and abundant in production, farmers in the West love it. Arbequina is also cold-tolerant, which is important for our occasionally cold Winters. 

While olives trees have always been a part of our plan, we decided to get a jump on planting this Fall to space out what will be a very busy nine months on the property. With the expected delivery of 550+ grapevines in the Spring, planting the olives now seemed like a wise way to spread our work around. 

Olive Trees, Vincent van Gough (1889)

What are we planting? Part Three

We've talked about our warm climate. We've talked about varietals off the beaten path. What we haven't talked about, is what we're going to do with a few tons of grapes. Our guiding principles have been fairly simple: plant something that we enjoy, ensure that our terroir can support it, and find a local winemaker who can make a beautiful expression with it. 

We also like a good story. There's a little known grape that has less than 100 acres planted in entire United States; compare that to the widely planted Cabernet Sauvignon which has 90,000 documented acres in California alone. That little known varietal is Charbono. Widely planted in France and Argentina, this red grape has a "cult following" and we hope play a very small part in its comeback. 

Despite its popularity overseas, Charbono barely hung on to its footprint in California as growers chose to plant more popular varietals. Further, disease pressure put a strain on the species and there is no commercial supply of Charbono graftings available to purchase today. That's why we're excited to partner with UC Davis' Foundation Plant Services to obtain a small selection of certified clean and healthy, own-rooted Charbono. They'll provide the plant material to a well known nursery this Fall who will in turn, deliver our plants for the 2019 Spring planting for The Vineyard at Springfield. 

What Are We Planting? Part Two

As California residents, we've always had access to beautiful expressions of popular varietals. Mass-produced Cabernet Sauvignon and Zinfandel were the gateways, but handcrafted wines from Napa to the Central Coast were never too far away. What I didn't know, however, is that wine distributors were protecting us. 

From the moment we moved to the Sierra Foothills, that all changed. We were immediately introduced to varietals that we had never enjoyed before. Powerful reds manicured perfectly by our environment like Hatcher's Alicante Bouschet and Barbera, and unconventional whites like La Folia's Fiano. 

Here in the Sierra Foothills, we must give credit to early pioneers who took a risk planting off the beaten path. Over the last three years, I have come to appreciate the humble, yet pioneering role that our vineyard consultant Stephen Collum has played. Locally he has encouraged small-lot vineyards like ours to take a chance on planting beautiful yet rare varietals that our well suited to our terroir. And that is exactly what we are doing. 

Next up, the reveal. 

What are we planting? Part One

For the last three years, we've wrestled with the idea of choosing what to plant. At first the struggle seemed trivial, but when you intend to do "life together" with these grapes, you should probably plant something that you like. We have learned to balance what we can't control (e.g. our geology, topography and climate) alongside those things that we can (e.g. varietal selection, production goals and farming practices). On the latter, we've picked up a few convictions:

1. "Grow what belongs here. Be patient." Pick a clone that can thrive in our heat, instead of trying to force something that doesn't belong. Colleen McGlynn at DaVero (Healdsburg, CA) influenced our thinking here:

"But what really matters is that our climate is Mediterranean, characterized by hot, dry summers with cool nights.  Which is exactly like the Italian peninsula — and exactly the inverse of the climates of Bordeaux and Burgundy which have cooler, wet summers with warm nights, and are roughly 1000 miles north of where we are."

2. Focus on grape quality over grape quantity. This conviction is less concerned with return on investment  (e.g. crop yield and price-per-ton) and instead focused on fruit quality. We should drop fruit to increase quality, harvest by hand, and eliminate bunches that don't appear healthy. In other words, simply do it right. 

3. We should treat the land the way we would want to be treated. Our farming convictions will be taken up in detail another time. That said, it is worth noting that the "natural world" knows a thing or two about producing fruit. Carolyn Czapleski at Canard Vineyard (Calistoga, CA) reminded me that "grapes have been here for awhile, they know what to do." We'll make an effort to stay out of their way, and provide assistance only when needed. 

Now, what are we going to plant?!? 

Welcome to our Story

We've been up to a few things lately, namely this project we call "the Land." 

As you can see, Sarah and I have been documenting milestones for our personal use over the last two years. Now, we're inviting you to walk alongside us as we reflect upon life, homesteading, and homemaking in the Sierra Foothills. 

We have wrestled with the idea of "going public" with this project, but kept returning to the idea that each of us benefit daily from those who have been vulnerable enough to share their own stories, or at the very least helpful by passing along wisdom. 

Having been shaped by the stories of others, it is now our time to invite you into ours. 

Peace to you,
J&SK

Definition of a Good Farmer

A good farmer is one who:

10. Realizes that he knows next to nothing of all that there is to know, that he is dealing with eternal laws that he did not make and cannot alter, and that the most brilliant achievements of human knowledge are simply the closest obedience to these laws.

Philip Britts

For his complete list, visit: Plough

Farmer-poet Philip Britts was born in 1917 in Devon, England. Britts became a pacifist, joined the Bruderhof, and during World War II moved to South America. There, in 1949, he died of a rare tropical illness at the age of 31, leaving his wife, Joan, with three young children and fourth on the way.

Deer Eviction Notice

Taking Shape

Winter

Don't Trust A Girl With Clean Boots

I can still remember the phone call in which I told Sarah about the opportunity to move to the Sierra Foothills: "That will never happen" she replied abruptly.  

Her comment captured the moment well; we had a great home in a wonderful neighborhood. Family down the street. Two great jobs. A baby on the way and a baby's nest in progress. We had no reason to leave Orange County. 

Enter Sonora. Quite literally, our first season here felt like we were wandering through the wilderness. As new parents, we also had to create a new community, new vocations, new rhythms, and new identities. 

When everything is new, it's hard to be you. 

Three years later, things are different again. I have watched a new momma become a momma, and now in many ways, a mentor momma. She has resisted the identity as "momma held hostage by toddler" and has embraced an identity as the chief steward of our family. While Bill Murray's Groundhog Day could drive anyone crazy, Sarah wakes up each day and embraces our son with love, tenderness, instruction, and stability. She is a living example of self-denial to me, and to our family. 

On a lighter note, I have also observed a change in what is "life giving" for Sarah. Never one for gardening or work outside, she has slowly "turned a new leaf" (see what I did there) and takes to the outdoors tending our garden and chickens, growing food for our family, and inviting others into her new interest. This girl's boots are never clean these days, she works to hard in and out of them. 

Back to Work

It's been awhile since I spent meaningful time at "the land." A summer of travel, landscaping at home and excessive heat kept progress back. It's time to get back to work.

Harvest Help

Metzger Farms, a revolutionary farm before revolutionary farming was cool. Head-trained Barbera in San Andreas California.