Voor weblog lezers 6 halen, 5 betalen, fles is € 14,95 per stuk.
zaterdag, juni 25, 2011
De Telegraaf
Mooie vermeldingen van Kasteel Engelenburg en mezelf in De Telegraaf van vandaag:
Voor weblog lezers 6 halen, 5 betalen, fles is € 14,95 per stuk.
Voor weblog lezers 6 halen, 5 betalen, fles is € 14,95 per stuk.
vrijdag, juni 17, 2011
donderdag, juni 16, 2011
zaterdag, juni 11, 2011
Omzet mei 2011
OK, een beetje laat maar dan toch: de omzet in mei was toch weer ietsje hoger dan in 2010. Vooral dankzij een eenmalige order van 1.000 flessen, dat dan wel. Maar het telt allemaal mee en dus is het de vijfde maand op rij met hogere omzet. De komende maanden ga ik meer tijd besteden aan mijn scriptie en dus verwacht ik niet dat de omzet hoger zal zijn dan vorig jaar. Er is gelukkig een buffer, zit tot nu toe op + 27%.
vrijdag, juni 10, 2011
Paps
Na afloop van een proeverij met achteraf als commentaar van de klant:
"Wij hebben een geweldige avond gehad. Ruud, bedankt daarvoor."
donderdag, juni 09, 2011
Oogst 2011 in Zuid-Afrika
Een lange lap tekst, maar mooi geschreven en het geeft een goed beeld van de oogst 2011 in Zuid-Afrika:
2011 Harvest Report by Bruce Jack for the Cape Winemakers Guild
Encouraged by our sleeping barrels and hibernating vines we winemakers slow down in winter. Like a fireside trance it’s easy to feel cocooned by rain beating on roofs, or falling in great sheets across the Flats and out to a granite grey sea.
Winter would have been a peaceful time for winemakers once - a time for unhurried blending and sleeping in; a time for food like cassoullet and venison potjie.
These days, unfortunately, there’s a gnawing irritation in the back of our minds, keeping the stress levels topped up – it’s that shedfull of wine that needs to be sold; it’s those tanks that need to be bottled before summer arrives.
Sometimes, about halfway through a bottle of red you forget about that shed, and the exchange rate and the overseas agent who refuses to pay you. Then winter feels good and solid like the foundation you can build the rest of your seasons on.
This state fades with the edgy pulse of spring – like the vibrations of a tuning fork struck against an empty stainless steel tank.
Glare arrives. You notice it bouncing off the aeroplane wing as you return home from Russia or China or somewhere equally as challenging.
Subtle changes in wind direction bring new smells like the warm easterly laced with Buchu in the mornings off the Helderberg.
This season there was a real ambivalence to spring. The rejuvenation felt sluggish, because we knew we hadn’t had enough winter rain. We sensed soil moisture was depleted, and the moisture probe readings reflected that.
Between July and October last year the recorded rainfall was 80 mm less than the long-term average figure. This equates to 75% of the long-term average, which means it was a very, very dry winter.
Areas east of Cape Town, especially in the Overberg, were the worst affected. The winter rain seemed to be stopped by Sir Lowry’s Pass. The rain that made it to Grabouw and Elgin all fell there.
Dams in the Overberg just didn’t fill up properly. A similar pattern occurred to a lesser extent north of Wellington, but even in these regions dams were not filled properly and farmers had to go easy on the irrigation, resulting in lower yields for the co-ops.
And things weren’t much better on this side of the mountain. In Stellenbosch the average rainfall was less than the long-term average in every month between July 2010 and February 2011, except October and November; but these increases were generally so small across the Western Cape as to be insignificant.
Before summer fully warmed this season, that new arching sun was already commanding wind off the ocean, ruffling awake the fleshy-green crowns of vineyards and mirroring the wavy sea in swelling hills of wheat. Despite the drier soil everything grew well.
Spring blew in with a strong southeaster. But although it buffeted incessantly for months, it was without the horrendous gusts of 2009 and 2010 that snapped trellis poles or blew bakkies over in Long Street.
And it remained very dry. Nothing significant fell in January and February in Stellenbosch. The weather station at Nietvoorbij records 4.5mm and 4.4mm for January and February respectively. This pattern repeated itself across inland areas like Robertson, Breedekloof and further north.
In Elgin, usually an area that enjoys significant rain over the growing season, only 31.5 ml was recorded against a 42 year long-term average of 93.1ml. That is only 33% of the long-term average. So no rot in Elgin this year, and a really great vintage.
However, in Elim 36.3mm of rain fell in February alone, which explains why the area had to battle fungus and rot this year.
The long days of summer heat coloured the ripening fruit rapidly and totally. Colours across the board in reds are great this year. All the while, the continuous southeaster smashed the swells flat in False Bay. It was an unhappy summer for surfers.
The wind measurement data was significant this season for the amount (or accumulated volume) of wind that blew. December in particular was extremely windy and the volume of wind recorded was significantly greater than long-term averages. Often the wind didn’t die at night during December, which is unusual.
Vineyards planted out of the lee of the wind, in exposed areas were pummelled by the wind causing stress, while those on protected slopes (out of the wind) suffered sunburn and heat damage. But luckily, for many vineyards the worse wind came at the right time not to cause extensive damage at flowering or later after veraison.
Every now and then a baked-earth Berg wind gathered in the Karoo and came rattling over the escarpment smelling of old windmill grease. It sucked the life from vines leaves, beating down surrendering tendrils and depressing me on my vineyard trips.
We all nursed the thirsty soldiers through this summer, dripping life through irrigation pipes. Every now and again, stealing a worrying glance over our shoulder at the puckering dams, the low levels of which we haven’t seen for a few years.
Our traditional January heat wave arrived slightly later than usual and was followed up by a second blast of heat on the 27th of February when the temperature recorded at Nietvoorbij hit 370C.
For some reason (and I am still trying to get my head around this) the heat wave didn’t do what it normally does and force a corresponding spike of sugar accumulation, leaving tannin ripeness lagging.
In fact, a stand out characteristic for all areas has been small, concentrated red berries with wonderfully ripe tannin. Tannin ripeness kept up magnificently. On average we picked our reds (across all varieties) a whole degree lower than in 2010.
On the Helderberg in Stellenbosch Average Maximum Temperatures (AMT) for January and February were 31.30C and 32.250C respectively, pushing up the average temperatures to 24,40C and 25.340C for these two important ripening months.
Similar to the station at Nietvoorbij, this represents average temperatures over 2.50C higher than long-term averages. That’s a really significant number and indicates what we all experienced – a warm, high-tempo vintage.
An interesting detail the maximum average temperature data reveals is that it was warmer on the Helderberg in January and February than in Paarl, Robertson or Breedekloof. This may be because these slopes missed out on the cooling effect of the southeaster this year.
In fact our mountain vineyards in the Breedekloof showed the lowest AMT of all the other inland areas. There were often days when driving from Elim to the Breedekloof that the temperatures increased by around 80C as I passed through Stellenbosch and Paarl, but then dropped again by 50C as I got through the tunnel and onto the alluvial valley floor around Rawsonville.
As usual Elim was a different story altogether. Because of the consistently strong, moist southeasters which blew incessantly this year, Average Maximum Temperatures for January and February were 25.240C and 25.80C respectively, resulting in correspondingly lower average temperatures of 20.90C and 22.180C.
Like other cooler areas (Elgin in particular), the white varieties are brilliant, showing intensity and elegance.
A vine spends about 50% of its energy reaching skywards. If it is continually buffeted by wind, it gets upset and switches from vegetative growth to concentrating on reproductive issues like making the most delicious tasting fruit possible. In the wind it does this with an intensity of purpose that is reflected in the eventual wine.
And now suddenly the pause of autumn, like an intake of breath, pulls you up.
You look at your hands properly for the first time in months and wonder if the purple stains will stay ingrained in the leathery creases this year.
A sea fog from the south saturates the breeze with the smell of seaweed. Overnight it swings rampantly around to the north like it did on Tuesday this week, with teasing grey clouds.
Now the curtain of early evenings promises the relief-soaked applause of Cape rain on roofs again.
Sometimes it feels like seasonal rhythm is all we have left to tie us to life. I guess that’s why it makes sense to eat seasonal fruit and veggies.
Do an experiment this year. After avocado season, try not to eat avos until they arrive again in April next year. It’s a tough call, especially when you want to steal a piece of your kid’s pizza, piled high with avos. But, if you can hold back, the first taste of ripe avo next year will never have tasted so delicious.
Winemaking is not as easy a life as it once may have been. It’s a cut-throat business right now. Wineries are struggling to survive. Salaries don’t reflect the hours and intellect required to make it all work.
But, because our work ties us inextricably to the cycles of seasons, we can’t help feeling extremely privileged to be doing what we do.
We can’t help notice the shadow of autumn, because we’ve got malolactic fermentations to worry about. Our internal rain gauges were continually guessing and adding up the drops of rain as they fell in winter. Then the sexy angst of spring pushed addictive adrenalin through us. The harvest loomed and the days of the 2011 season have unfolded like an adventure.
I think the wines will reflect the wild ride. Those of us who were lucky enough to have a handle on our irrigation, and healthy vineyards to work with, will make some really exciting wines, maybe some of the best this century.
Bruce Jack
Autumn 2011
2011 Harvest Report by Bruce Jack for the Cape Winemakers Guild
Encouraged by our sleeping barrels and hibernating vines we winemakers slow down in winter. Like a fireside trance it’s easy to feel cocooned by rain beating on roofs, or falling in great sheets across the Flats and out to a granite grey sea.
Winter would have been a peaceful time for winemakers once - a time for unhurried blending and sleeping in; a time for food like cassoullet and venison potjie.
These days, unfortunately, there’s a gnawing irritation in the back of our minds, keeping the stress levels topped up – it’s that shedfull of wine that needs to be sold; it’s those tanks that need to be bottled before summer arrives.
Sometimes, about halfway through a bottle of red you forget about that shed, and the exchange rate and the overseas agent who refuses to pay you. Then winter feels good and solid like the foundation you can build the rest of your seasons on.
This state fades with the edgy pulse of spring – like the vibrations of a tuning fork struck against an empty stainless steel tank.
Glare arrives. You notice it bouncing off the aeroplane wing as you return home from Russia or China or somewhere equally as challenging.
Subtle changes in wind direction bring new smells like the warm easterly laced with Buchu in the mornings off the Helderberg.
This season there was a real ambivalence to spring. The rejuvenation felt sluggish, because we knew we hadn’t had enough winter rain. We sensed soil moisture was depleted, and the moisture probe readings reflected that.
Between July and October last year the recorded rainfall was 80 mm less than the long-term average figure. This equates to 75% of the long-term average, which means it was a very, very dry winter.
Areas east of Cape Town, especially in the Overberg, were the worst affected. The winter rain seemed to be stopped by Sir Lowry’s Pass. The rain that made it to Grabouw and Elgin all fell there.
Dams in the Overberg just didn’t fill up properly. A similar pattern occurred to a lesser extent north of Wellington, but even in these regions dams were not filled properly and farmers had to go easy on the irrigation, resulting in lower yields for the co-ops.
And things weren’t much better on this side of the mountain. In Stellenbosch the average rainfall was less than the long-term average in every month between July 2010 and February 2011, except October and November; but these increases were generally so small across the Western Cape as to be insignificant.
Before summer fully warmed this season, that new arching sun was already commanding wind off the ocean, ruffling awake the fleshy-green crowns of vineyards and mirroring the wavy sea in swelling hills of wheat. Despite the drier soil everything grew well.
Spring blew in with a strong southeaster. But although it buffeted incessantly for months, it was without the horrendous gusts of 2009 and 2010 that snapped trellis poles or blew bakkies over in Long Street.
And it remained very dry. Nothing significant fell in January and February in Stellenbosch. The weather station at Nietvoorbij records 4.5mm and 4.4mm for January and February respectively. This pattern repeated itself across inland areas like Robertson, Breedekloof and further north.
In Elgin, usually an area that enjoys significant rain over the growing season, only 31.5 ml was recorded against a 42 year long-term average of 93.1ml. That is only 33% of the long-term average. So no rot in Elgin this year, and a really great vintage.
However, in Elim 36.3mm of rain fell in February alone, which explains why the area had to battle fungus and rot this year.
The long days of summer heat coloured the ripening fruit rapidly and totally. Colours across the board in reds are great this year. All the while, the continuous southeaster smashed the swells flat in False Bay. It was an unhappy summer for surfers.
The wind measurement data was significant this season for the amount (or accumulated volume) of wind that blew. December in particular was extremely windy and the volume of wind recorded was significantly greater than long-term averages. Often the wind didn’t die at night during December, which is unusual.
Vineyards planted out of the lee of the wind, in exposed areas were pummelled by the wind causing stress, while those on protected slopes (out of the wind) suffered sunburn and heat damage. But luckily, for many vineyards the worse wind came at the right time not to cause extensive damage at flowering or later after veraison.
Every now and then a baked-earth Berg wind gathered in the Karoo and came rattling over the escarpment smelling of old windmill grease. It sucked the life from vines leaves, beating down surrendering tendrils and depressing me on my vineyard trips.
We all nursed the thirsty soldiers through this summer, dripping life through irrigation pipes. Every now and again, stealing a worrying glance over our shoulder at the puckering dams, the low levels of which we haven’t seen for a few years.
Our traditional January heat wave arrived slightly later than usual and was followed up by a second blast of heat on the 27th of February when the temperature recorded at Nietvoorbij hit 370C.
For some reason (and I am still trying to get my head around this) the heat wave didn’t do what it normally does and force a corresponding spike of sugar accumulation, leaving tannin ripeness lagging.
In fact, a stand out characteristic for all areas has been small, concentrated red berries with wonderfully ripe tannin. Tannin ripeness kept up magnificently. On average we picked our reds (across all varieties) a whole degree lower than in 2010.
On the Helderberg in Stellenbosch Average Maximum Temperatures (AMT) for January and February were 31.30C and 32.250C respectively, pushing up the average temperatures to 24,40C and 25.340C for these two important ripening months.
Similar to the station at Nietvoorbij, this represents average temperatures over 2.50C higher than long-term averages. That’s a really significant number and indicates what we all experienced – a warm, high-tempo vintage.
An interesting detail the maximum average temperature data reveals is that it was warmer on the Helderberg in January and February than in Paarl, Robertson or Breedekloof. This may be because these slopes missed out on the cooling effect of the southeaster this year.
In fact our mountain vineyards in the Breedekloof showed the lowest AMT of all the other inland areas. There were often days when driving from Elim to the Breedekloof that the temperatures increased by around 80C as I passed through Stellenbosch and Paarl, but then dropped again by 50C as I got through the tunnel and onto the alluvial valley floor around Rawsonville.
As usual Elim was a different story altogether. Because of the consistently strong, moist southeasters which blew incessantly this year, Average Maximum Temperatures for January and February were 25.240C and 25.80C respectively, resulting in correspondingly lower average temperatures of 20.90C and 22.180C.
Like other cooler areas (Elgin in particular), the white varieties are brilliant, showing intensity and elegance.
A vine spends about 50% of its energy reaching skywards. If it is continually buffeted by wind, it gets upset and switches from vegetative growth to concentrating on reproductive issues like making the most delicious tasting fruit possible. In the wind it does this with an intensity of purpose that is reflected in the eventual wine.
And now suddenly the pause of autumn, like an intake of breath, pulls you up.
You look at your hands properly for the first time in months and wonder if the purple stains will stay ingrained in the leathery creases this year.
A sea fog from the south saturates the breeze with the smell of seaweed. Overnight it swings rampantly around to the north like it did on Tuesday this week, with teasing grey clouds.
Now the curtain of early evenings promises the relief-soaked applause of Cape rain on roofs again.
Sometimes it feels like seasonal rhythm is all we have left to tie us to life. I guess that’s why it makes sense to eat seasonal fruit and veggies.
Do an experiment this year. After avocado season, try not to eat avos until they arrive again in April next year. It’s a tough call, especially when you want to steal a piece of your kid’s pizza, piled high with avos. But, if you can hold back, the first taste of ripe avo next year will never have tasted so delicious.
Winemaking is not as easy a life as it once may have been. It’s a cut-throat business right now. Wineries are struggling to survive. Salaries don’t reflect the hours and intellect required to make it all work.
But, because our work ties us inextricably to the cycles of seasons, we can’t help feeling extremely privileged to be doing what we do.
We can’t help notice the shadow of autumn, because we’ve got malolactic fermentations to worry about. Our internal rain gauges were continually guessing and adding up the drops of rain as they fell in winter. Then the sexy angst of spring pushed addictive adrenalin through us. The harvest loomed and the days of the 2011 season have unfolded like an adventure.
I think the wines will reflect the wild ride. Those of us who were lucky enough to have a handle on our irrigation, and healthy vineyards to work with, will make some really exciting wines, maybe some of the best this century.
Bruce Jack
Autumn 2011
dinsdag, juni 07, 2011
De komende tijd zal ik minder op de weblog schrijven. Dit is bericht 1261 dus er is genoeg terug te lezen. Facebook is wat directer en interactiever dus ik wil kijken of dat niet handiger is om te gebruiken. De eerste 100 volgers is al bijna een feit, maar ik ga voor minimaal 200 volgers voor het einde van de maand.
maandag, juni 06, 2011
Stem en win
Ik geloof niet dat ik veel kans maak om te winnen maar toch kan het geen kwaad om even op WineMatters te stemmen omdat er een mooie hoofdprijs te winnen valt:
www.bythegrape.com/enquete/
www.bythegrape.com/enquete/
donderdag, juni 02, 2011
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