Grenache was not love at first sight nor taste for me. But it earned my respect and fanned the flames of curiosity, and now it’s a love near and dear to my heart.
A friend of mine has a vineyard in in Agoura Hills, in the canyon, high in the hills at about 1000’ in elevation with ocean fog. He was growing Syrah and Grenache and I was itching for some Syrah cuttings so I offered to help prune. I was not enamored with Grenache because, why have Grenache when you can drink Pinot Noir…Both Pinot and Grenache are light wines, but Pinot has the acclaimed for being difficult with higher acidity and frankly a little more clout. To me, Grenache was like wearing a Cartier knock-off. Why would you wear something that was obviously inferior to a name brand. The Duke of Bourgogne in 843 drank Pinot Noir, which was annexed to France 1477. To this day, no one can grow anything other than Pinot Noir, Chardonnay or Gamay in Burgundy, France. Pinot Noir, having that distinction, held its quality and value for over 1000 years. So why would anyone drink Grenache? Yet, while pruning I ended up with a fist full of Grenache cuttings.
My Syrah cuttings, I babied. I put them in the fridge in a damp towel until the Spring Solstice. I then put them in a tray filled with diluted kelp extract for two days. I had previously tilled the soil and double checked the pH, perfect at 6.3. The soil was a mix of 30% red clay, 30% worm castings, and 30% nutrient rich soil. The rest was a mixture of banana peels, orange peels, apple cores, melon rinds, moss, lava rocks, sprinkles of gypsum, pennies, and rusty nails. I carefully staked the cuttings to stakes and then watered with distilled water, mixed with kelp, and a drop of hydrogen peroxide to bring down the pH of the water to 6.5. I then covered the area with coco bean shells to insulate the soil. I made a water concoction three times per week for my Syrah babies. Once per month, I added bat guano. If you know anything about me, I gag easily at smells. Yeah, one a month, I was literally heaving for the love of Syrah.
The Grenache cuttings, on the other hand, I put in a planter in the corner, the same day we pruned in February. It got the water from the hose (7.3 pH), when I filled the dog’s bowl, every other day, when I remembered that I put them in the corner, and soon forgot about them completely.
By mid-summer, half of the Syrah cuttings had made it, but looking somewhat dismal. The unloved and unwatered Grenache, on the other hand, was flourishing, every single one. So, in my neat rows of Syrah, I took out the dead Syrah sticks and replaced them with healthy Grenache. Grenache had my attention, so I didn’t discriminate and gave them the good water too. I stopped watering once they were dormant in October, mostly because I don’t go outside when it dips down to freezing temperatures like 65 degrees. I don’t want to catch pneumonia and die. I also don’t go outside when it’s especially humid or foggy. My hair frizzes. So, I forgot about my little lovies for months, until spring, when we were all done hibernating. A few more Syrah had passed on but all Grenache were doing well. So, I put in end posts and a drip line and stopped worrying about the water’s pH. Except once per month, the babies got special water, made with love. High Santa Ana winds came up the following October. An end post fell over and split a Grenache in half right in the middle between the two newly formed cordons. I took some duct tape and toothpicks for a splint and taped it together, because that’s what they do in Texas. A month later, it had magically grown back together again. Well, what do ya’ know? In awe, I carefully removed the tape. I checked all of the drips that day and proceeded to the beach with a good book. Weeks later I went and check on the kids. The dog had chewed up the drip line and the newly repaired Grenache was sitting in a pool of water and mosquitos. I used a stick to percolate the dirt (too much red clay) and repaired the drips. I’ll be damned if that Grenache didn’t survive just to show me what’s what.
Okay, so Grenache piqued my curiosity. It survives floods; it survives in high winds; it survives in drought. It’s the perfect grape for SoCal. (It also survived a 3.2 earthquake, but that’s nothing to write home about). My Uncle Bobby says that California is going to fall right off into the ocean, on account of all of the sinning out here. In a few million years, if that happens, I’m sure Grenache will survive that too. Now, I wanted to learn about her.
