wine

rather than moan about 09.11 and/or its exploitation...or update you on "house world" (things progress but nothing major yet)...or enthrall you with the latest work story (all is well)...I'm pleased to report I'll be making wine this Saturday.

huh? an alcoholic making wine? well, making ain't drinking. even if I wanted to, it won't become alcoholic until after it ferments. most importantly, this is something I have been wanting to participate in with my in-laws as long as I can remember. they make wine once a year and it is something I have wanted to photograph for several years.

my wife's parents are first-generation Italians...born and raised on the boot until coming over to America in their twenties. they owned a deli for years, and they still make their own sauce, pastas, bread, sausage, cannoli and WINE. note: they also have a supernatural ability to buy fruit that tastes like ambrosia, picked straight from the garden of Eden.

I remember the first family dinner I attended. A tall glass was set at my place and my father in-law proudly brought out a rather questionable looking bottle (he reuses old wine bottles and even green-glass drinking water bottles). It had no label on it and a twist cap. He offered me some of his home made wine and I agreed. He started pouring and, despite my pleas, filled the 12 oz glass. After finishing this glass of wine, I felt it. I was buzzed. We now refer to his wine as shot wine due to the higher level of alcohol. As far as other characteristics, it is always red, usually fruity and closest to a nice Chianti in comparison. A great homemade table wine with a kick.

I noted a few times I would love to help them make wine. Once a year around September they make as many as 4 full-sized barrels of wine (perhaps somewhere around 100 gallons), bottling enough for the year. Last year I finally got the call and it was short notice...the day they were making it. As a result I did not make it. This year I was tapped a few days in advance. In fact it happened tonight. We were at their house having dinner and they asked me to join them.

My father in-law took me out into the garage where he has already brought his press up from the basement. This will be used to crush the grapes. He also showed me a row of grape containers...the row is six containers long and stacked four containers high in the corner of the garage. We're looking at about 30 cases of grapes. I need to find out more specifics as far as what kind of grapes. I'll verify all of the facts here as well.

He brought up the barrels too and put them in the backyard. These wooden casks were originally used to hold whiskey. My father in-law purchased them years ago from a distillery for about $10 apiece. Based on the markings from the distillery, some of these barrels are more than 30 years old. Moving to the backyard I see the barrels have been turned upside down. The bottoms have been filled with water to test for leaks. And, even after being 30 years old and having been used for several years to make wine, the distinct scent of whiskey on this pleasant fall evening was quite odd. Luckily whiskey was never my hard liquor of choice.

Perhaps the barrels' past is one of the reasons why his wines have such a high alcohol content?

Saturday I will arrive around 8:30 in the morning for the following process: press the grapes, filling the barrels with the grapes and the juice. After that, they sit and ferment. No yeast is added. It seems too simple, and I will confirm or deny this shortly. However my father in-law assures me it is. So we just have to press 30 cases of grapes and we'll be done in no time. No, we will not be stomping grapes with our feet. However, my father in-law claims as a small child he did this with his cousins.

I'll be armed with my camera, plenty of film and a pad and pen for taking notes. This one of several talents my in-laws have that simply amaze me. And while I may never make wine myself, I want to preserve this in some fashion for "future generations." What they can do is very special and arguably not many individuals make wine. But more important to me is that the food and drink my in-laws make do more than make me fat and happy, they are a bonding tool.

Nearly every Sunday, all five of my in-laws daughters, their husbands and their children come over for dinner. Two dozen people gather and for a few hours eat, talk and hang out together. Not having grown up in a similarly close family situation, this has been an amazing event for me. Whether you know it or not, it brings you closer together. Sure you still complain about the typical in-law issues and the kids can grate on you or something else can get on your nerves, but for the most part everyone sits down together as a family and eats.

Having grown up with it, my wife and her sisters are used to it. They are also used to the tasty homemade Italian feast that is whipped up on a weekly basis for them in mass quantities. Editors note: the pasta is not usually homemade, cannoli is a rare treat, but there is still plenty of food including at least one form of meat and the fruit is served at the end of the meal. If I were on death row, my last meal would include my mother in-law's eggplant parmesan. It could probably consist of just that item and I'd be happy. Since they are all used to this event, not ONE of their daughters have learned how to make these dishes. From bread, sauce, pasta and sausage to wine, cannoli and eggplant parmesan...these recipes, these dishes and these traditions are all in the hands and heads of my mother in-law and my father in-law.

I tell my brother in-laws that this can be compared to a very fast train heading down the track. If and when something terrible happens, it will not be pretty. Much more than food will be lost. So I pester my wife to learn ONE of her mother's recipes (yep, eggplant parmesan). So far no luck. In addition to continuing to pester her, I am going to try and learn myself. I'm starting with the winemaking and hope to work my way up to pasta. I'll keep you posted.