Natural Wine – outlines of a definition

In fact I'm opposed to the idea of constructing a definition of natural wine. I believe that 'natural wine' is not in any way a conceptual idea with clear boundaries and definitions that include or exclude specific wines. Natural wine is not a concept really; it's just wine that is not manipulated too much. It's somewhat against the spirit of natural wines to propose a definition.

Furthermore the American Joe Dressner has already perpetrated a remarkable 14-point manifesto which cannot be surpassed in entertainment value or one-liners:

http://saignee.wordpress.com/2010/06/24/day-6-the-official-fourteen-point-manifesto-on-natural-wine/ .

You can also follow Cory Cartwright's two blog serials on the subject:

http://saignee.wordpress.com/31-days-of-natural-wine/

http://saignee.wordpress.com/2010/05/17/32-days-of-natural-wine/

The different postings are alternately entertaining, exciting, geeky and quite boring. But there's plenty of interesting reading.

Finally there's the Association des Vins Naturels, whose official charter can be found here: http://www.lesvinsnaturels.org/charte-signee-par-les-vignerons/ . Here you'll find specific instructions of what is allowed and what is not.

Nevertheless, when – despite all the reservations – I attempt to outline a definition, I do it because I hope to give an explanation of some of the intentions and ideas in the making of natural wines that goes beyond a specific set of rules. And perhaps initiate a debate that could be something else and more than a trench warfare for and against natural wines.

1. Natural wines are made from a wish of conveying an experience which has a concrete physical origin in an area or a vineyard.

It's the ambition that the wine shall tell a little story from out there; to one who's sensitive enough to listen. Wine can recount a place and a time bygone. Thus wine can be an experience that extends beyond the specific situation of 'man drinking wine'. Wine is first of all committed to taste good, but in happy cases the pleasure-oriented logic can be exceeded.

2. Natural wine is not goal-oriented and has no teleological approach. There's no desired direction, but a wide range of possibilities for succeeding.

First of all the wine must reflect the possibilities offered by the correlation between nature and the work with the vine and the wine. It is not necessarily made to please. That doesn't mean that one should drink all kinds of things that don't taste good, but a natural wine is only succesful if isn't forced in a specific direction. The winedrinker must always remain open and critical to whatever she pours down the drain. Furthermore, it is our concept of normality that decides what we perceive as succesful, and if one has lived a whole life with wines that are levelled off and predetermined in terms of taste, some natural wines can seem bizarre or even faulty.

3. Natural wine embraces a broad definition of what can be perceived as succesful.

In any case, wine is an acquired taste, and not all winedrinkers can embrace the same. Differences and diversity, however, must in this case - as in most cases - be considered an unconditional good. In practice it means that a lot of winedrinkers eventually change their perception of what wine is, and how it should and can taste. Natural wine demands a broad and spacious - but not uncritical! - definition of succesful wine.

4. Natural wine basically has to taste good and be nice to drink.

A lot of winemakers started to make natural wines, simply because they could drink more of it. In practice natural wine is always accompanied by a certain unrestrained hedonism and a great generosity. This is not a theoretical misrepresentation, but simply an empirical establishment(even though I shall refrain from declaring it statisticcaly significant, a quick survey showed a 100% approval, since all of the asked persons (my wife and myself, to be exact]) agreed totally with that conclusion).

5. Natural wine is basically grown without the use of chemical aids.

Wine must draw minerality and nutrition from the soil it grows in. In order for this to happen the soil must be full of flora and fauna. Soil work is a prerequisite for making natural wine, and the harvested grapes must be healthy and hold a vital yeast population. One chemical aid leads to the next as the natural balance of the plants and the soil is upset. Ideally the vineyard can be taken care of totally without the use of any chemicals. In practice, however, it is by no means all natural wines that are made totally without chemical aids, and sulphur and copper sulphate (also known as bordeaux mixture) are widely accepted preparations (and also allowed when making organic and biodynamic wine), but they are not desirable, and should be avoided as far as possible.

6. Natural wine is basically vinified without the use of cultured yeast, filtering, clarification, enzyme treatments or reversed osmosis. Sulphur is only employed in the lowest possible doses if at all.

Actually, large parts of the serious wine world will probably agree that they advocate as little intervention in the making of the wine as possible. However, there are big differences between the various forms of this (somewhat) reluctant interference and also between the degrees of tha actual reluctance. Maceration of white wines or long time maturing on the lees can produce notes which can make drinkers of conventional wines sneer. Filtering and clarification can make drinkers of natural wine shrug dispairingly and pour the wine straight out. The limits are fluid, and the answer is blowin' in the wine. Cultured yeast, enzymes and reversed osmosis, however, out of place in connection with natural wine.

7. A minimal addition of sulphur at the bottling is acceptable, but not desirable.

In recent years sulphur has been the great subject of discussion. Everybody agrees that too much sulphur is a fault; however, exactly when too much is too much, is a point of contention in many quarters]. The AVN lays down limit values for the contents of sulphur in wine that I can subscribe to, but I would like to stress that wines which keep respect these limits in my view can be too heavily sulphured, just as wines which do not respect/keep within these limits in some (rare) cases can comply with the definition of natural wine. The answer is in the wine.

8. Natural wines must be free and alive.

The fine thing about the natural wines is their life and twinkle. They must be free, unforced and uncontrolled. You cannot decide to make a wine that tastes like a 'natural wine'.

9. Natural wine doesn't have a static definition, but is an idea to pursue.

Of course it's not without problems to place the definition of natural wine outside the wine itself, but it's nevertheless the only way. There's no way to measure if a wine is natural or not. The answer is in the wine, but must be formulated by the winedrinker. The grapes don't harvest themselves and they don't crawl into the casks a year or so before the wine itself runs into the bottles. Wine is a cultural interaction between man and vineyard, exposed to wind and weather. There'll be a long row of borderline cases of wines where the definition 'natural' can and must be discussed, just as natural wines must be defined within a sliding scale of naturalness.

But would you drink this?

Wine production is responsible for about 50% of the pesticides used in France. Wine represents about 3% of the cultivated area. But never mind. Pesticides don't make it into wine, do they? Well..

In 2008 Pesticide Action Network (also known as PAN) purchased 34 bottles of conventionally farmed wine and had them analysed in a normal commercial lab. It was mainly wines from Europe, but all continents were represented; most of them were ordinary, cheap standard wines, but a few were expensive prestige wines with a retail price above € 200,-. Altogether 148 pesticide residues were found in the 34 bottles. All bottles contained at least one pesticide, on average the bottles contained more than four pesticides, the bottle that contained the most had residues from 10 different pesticides.

Luckily the EU has suggested limit values for residues of chemical products in wine. An exampel could be Folpel, which is an anti-rot preparation: 0,1 mg per liter has been suggested as a maximum limit value for residues in wine. 0,1 mg doesn't sound much, but compared with ordinary tap water, it turns out to be quite a lot. In water the limit value is 0,1 microgram per liter. 0,1 microgram is 0,0001 mg. Now we - or some of us at least - drink more water than wine, but still the maximum limits don't seem too reassuring.

By the way, Dear Reader, knows't thou what the following is:

• Tébufénoside
• Azoxystrobine
• Diméthomorphe
• Phtalimide
• Denamidone metabolite
• Cyprodinil
• Fludioxonil
• Fosforsyre
• 3,5 DCA
• Pyrimethanil
• Thirame
• Fenhexamide
• Iprodione
• Procymidone
• Phtalimide
• Quinalphos

Does't thou actually want to know?

Well. I thought not.

Drink natural wine!

Pierre Overnoy. On natural yeast and unnatural sulphur.

The below listed text is an extract of an extract. In 2008, french wine journalist and editor François Morel published a very useful book with lots of concrete knowledge and facts about natural wine, in which he, among other stuff, brings an unedited interview with Pierre Overnoy, winegrower in Pupillin (Arbois, Jura, France), about the making of wines without any addition of sulphur.

To sulphur or not to sulphur in wine is a hot potato these days – or years rather. And not without reason. Just ten years ago sulphur was not a subject for almost any winedrinkers in or outside the profession. The avantgarde of winedrinkers then were speaking of terroir at the most. They still are, but now lots of them also talk about sulphur. And it's true that great wines are made mainly in the vineyard, but – because there is a 'but' – it's regularly destroyed in the cellar. And a lot of winegrowers don't use any sulphur, even more claim not to. But as this interview extract clearly shows, making wines without the use of any sulphur is not something you just do like that. However, it's strongly connected with the notion of terroir. Which is interresting. Some claim that sulphur is necessary to 'tame' the wine and let the terroir express itself. Pierre Overnoy – who by the way is the winegrower all the other growers – all! – always turn to for an advice when the fat's in the fire and they don't know what to do – has never used sulphur in his wines. It has nothing to do with any hype or the fad of current times. Pierre Overnoy is born in the same small village he still lives in. His vineyards have been in the possessionof his family for generations and have never been in touch with any sort of chemicals whatsoever, and Pierre Overnoy has like his forefathers never used any sulphur in the vinification, so why should he start now? According to Pierre Overnoy it's a question of understanding nature which might sound too easy, or even corny, to claim, but it isn't easy at all, actually, he says, it's f..ing difficult. Not two vintages are the same, and just when you feel that you've cracked the code something unforeseen happens. But it's only when you've realized it – that you need to understand nature – that you are able to make wine without sulphur. Sulphur impedes the vineyards own yeastpopulation to develop naturally, and when you have destroyed that development, there's nothing else to do than to help the wine regain some sort of balance with chemical aids, something which according to Pierre Overnoy should be avoided at any price. And it's only when you have understood how to make wine without sulphur that you understand nature – and thereby become able to transmit it.

“Pour nous, ce qui est important, et qui détermine la date des vendanges, c'est un 'pH puissant' (lorsque P.O. parle de 'pH puissant', il veut non pas acidité basse, mais acidité haute). Parce que notre gros problème, c'est le suivant: les bactéries lactiques dégradents l'acide malique et le transforment en acide lactique, elles se reposent un peu, ensuite elles dégradent l'acide citrique, elles se reposent encore quelques jours, ensuite s'il y a des sucres résiduels non fermentés, elles les attaquent... Donc, avoir un pH puissant et ne pas avoir la fermentation malolactique qui se termine avant la fermentation alcoolique. Quand ça arrive, il faut avoir du froid pour refroidir la cuve, pour que les bactéries ne se développent pas... C'est un gros investissement. On a besoin d'un pH puissant parce qu'on ne tue pas les bactéries lactiques. Les sucres fermentescibles qui restent éventuellement, les bactéries peuvent en transformer une partie en alcool, mais elles peuvent les transformer en vinaigre. Il faut donc faire 'souffrir' les bactéries, par d'autres moyens que le soufre: physiquement plutôt que chimiquement. Donc la première chose, c'est d'avoir un pH puissant: les bactéries, elles vont souffrir par le pH. Pour obtenir ce pH puissant, il ne faut pas désherber chimiquement les vignes, il faut qu'elles soient travaillées. Si elles ne sont pas travaillées, les racines remontent et prennent la potasse en surface – même si on n'en a pas mis – et la potasse se combine avec l'acide tartrique naturel du raisin et fait chuter l'acidité.

Pour travailler sans soufre, il faut un bon pH et une grosse population de levures – en bonne santé. Si on a désherbé chimiquement les vignes, on a tué une bonne partie des levures et ce sont les 'Schizo' qui se développent, les levures Schizosaccharomyces qui donnent de l'acidité volatile. Il y a bien toujours quelques 'Schizo', mais il faut que ce soit les autres levures qui s'emparet du milieu. Ce sont soit les 'bonnes' levures, soit les 'mauvaises' levures, soit les bactéries qui s'emparent du milieu. Comme on ne travaille pas avec la chimie pour jour sur ces élements, on travaille physiquement, mais avec une base de vigne qui apporte les bons élements.

Après ça, si possible, il faut beaucoup d'acide malique, mais ça, on ne le maîtrise pas. C'est à la vendange que ça se décide: s'il fait très chaud, l'acide malique descend et on est obligé de vendanger. L'acide tartrique du raisin se dégrade par dilution, l'acide malique par combustion. S'il pleut beaucoup, on aura moins de tartrique et beaucoup de malique, et inversement.

Donc, il faut qu'on ait la bonne 'triangulaire': un pH puissant, une grosse population de levures en bonne santé et beaucoup d'acide malique, si possible. Mais le plus important pour nous, c'est la population de levures: avec ça, même si les autres éléments ne sont pas favorables, on va s'en sortir. Il y a une 'course' qui s'engage entre les levures et les bactéries, et il faut que les bactéries n'arrivent pas au point de s'attaquer aux sucres avant que les levures les aient dégradés... Les températures sont le moyen de jouer sur ce point, au départ, vers 8°, seules les levures commencent à travailler, puis les bactéries démarrent, et il faut laisser partir, on n'a plus d'autres moyens. Chez nous, la cuverie est réfrigérée, mais quand il faut laisser monter la température du rouge, c'est le blanc qui arrive: on a deux lieux réfrigérés et un appareil qui peut faire du chaud ou du froid sur chaque cuve. C'est pas une petite affaire de travailler sans soufre! Et même avec les moyens, on ne fait pas les malins!

On peut parfois être déclassé de l'AOC à cause de la 'typicité': la plupart des vins sont avec des levures industrielles et du soufre, donc c'est l'étalon, et notre vin n'est pas 'comme les autres', donc il n'est pas 'typique'... Si la typicité, c'est ajouter tout ce qu'il faut pour être comme tout le monde, alors... ! C'est comme dans une épicerie, il y a neuf sirops de menthe colorés en vert, un autre est blanc: il a 'un problème'... il n'est pas comme les autres, c'est le seul sans colorant, il n'est pas 'typique'. Quand les vins sont goûtés, comme aujourd'hui, par des jeunes qui n'ont pas connu les vins d'autrefois, ça peut poser de sérieux problèmes à l'agrément...

Pour la conservation du vin, on pense aujourd'hui qu'il lui faut beaucoup d'acidité. C'est vrai dans le contexte actuel, avec souvent trop de raisins sur le cep: l'acidité baisse, et les autres éléments ne peuvent pas prendre le relais... On a pourtant vu des vins de la Vallée du Rhône avoir une acidité extrêmement faible et se garder très longtemps! Mais il faut qu'il n'y ait pas trop de raisins sur le cep, et là, il n'y a pas besoin d'acidité pour garder le vin. Par exemple, chez nous, 1964, une année très chaude absolument sans acidité: tous les vignerons pensaient que le vin ne se garderait pas. J'en ai gardé quelques bouteilles: récemment, avec Marcel Lapierre et la petite 'bande' du Beaujolais, on l'a goûté, et personne ne l'a daté plus vieux que 2000!”

François Morel: Le vin au naturel, pp. 60-62 (Les Éditions du Vin, Le Rouge & Le Blanc, 2008)

Take me home

Paris calling. In the line of duty, I'm arriving with the late friday night plane and go straight to Verre Volé, where Cyril and his staff is hitting the roof and is throwing wine and food over the zink at an incredibly speed. A table for one? No. Perhaps a little later? Oh no, then the third seating will be coming in. But.. well, just a moment and with a wrinkle of a wand, a shelf that can be drawn from the wall and normally is used for cutting bread, is dusted, an old, rocking folding chair is found from the secrets - et volià: A table for un.

One has to lean a little forward, when waiters are going to the cellar, and take good care so that the folding chair is not using it's abilities for getting folded, but then the location is perfect; good food, good wine and a fabolous view to one of Paris' busy bistros. The room os meant for 14-16 eating guests or so, and the walls all the way around is full of wine bottles; just have a look around and decide. A large blackboard with todays - surprisingly many - dishes is carried around and squezzed inbetween tables. There's 28 guests not counting myself, and if it wasn't for the fact that three or four of theme were continuesely out on the street smoking, it would hardly be possible to serve plates and wine to the diminuitive tables.

Ahh. I'm leaning back a little, loosening up, but having second thoughts just in time not to let the chair show its full potential for deconstruction and smash me to the floor. So I'm sitting straight up again, sniffing in a glass of Allez Goutons from Dominique Derain; finally home. Always at home in Paris.

Copenhagen was april with some disastrous mixture of rain and snow and a cacophony of the colour grey; Paris is mild and open, and Cyril is arriving with large, and beautiful green asparagues with a vinaigrette, a bit of ibericoham and a glass of Melonix from Jo Landron. Fundamentally one goes to Verre Volé for the wine - a bit absurd as you're not aloud to drink without eating at the place - but the food is - again and again - striking me with wonder; always good and sometimes extraordinairy. The kitchen at Verre Volé is basically two large salamanders (it's an advanced toaster), an electric kettle and a electric pressurecookinglike thing mainly used for boiling potatoes in, which is then mashed and kept warm in the very same apparatus. Salades are mixed in the cellar, which is a temperaturecontrolled room just behind the bar, where many plates are made ready aswell. Sausages, caillette, parmentier and even rôtie de porc is prepared in the salamander. It's simple dishes, but of good raw materials and quite often that's exactly what one needs. Toulouse sausage with mashed potatoes and frissé salade; not too difficult, eh? In this moment of writing Verre Volé has been renovated, but as far as it's known kitchen equipment and style hasn't change at all.

Verre Volé is an important spot for natural wines and has for years, with a handful of other places - as Baratin in the 20. - been the leading spots for the Vins Nature-avantgarde. With it's location in the 10. arrondisement Verre Volé is not on Main Street for the tourists, but little by little the nerds and geeks of wine, has found the way out here. With a vigorous mixture of young parisians, who needs to be going out to eat and drink, but not necessarily has heaps of cash to do it with. Here you'll find natural wines from all outposts of France; strange winegrowers and strange wines, but all with life and a mission in the world. Not just to please, but to challenge, restaurate and intoxicate its audiance.

Salad of lentils with porkroast and a glass of Pineau d'Aunis from Puzelat. Third seating is on the go and Cyril explains that I can join a table with some friends of his, winegroowers from down south, but on the way from my breadstation and the three meters to the cornertable I'm trapped by the fourth seating, a handful of people from restaurants and a bottle of a very musically Anjou - Initial BB from Agnès and René Mosse - so it takes some hours, befor I reach the table with Cyrils friends. At this rather developed hour, Verre Volé is long sinced closed for the night and the shutters are down, but the wines is still floating and everytime someone is trying to escape, there's an unmistakenly sound of a cork leaving a bottleneck, and Cyril is arriving with a blind wine and large smile (occasionally with a large wine and blind smile; not that the difference matters too much). As the nightcap we're having 2004 Les Chênes from Vincent Laval and it makes the walk through the Paris night to some friends appartement both chalky and almost levitating.

Three hours later at a sofa bed in the tiny Paris flat of my friends, the appartements youngest participant (4yo César) is crawling underneath the matress to shoot mice with his bow and arrow (!). But it's Paris outside the windows. And a new tasting is waiting. Luckily you never get hangovers drinking natural wines. or.