4.7.2020 Release Letter
Hello everyone!
Welcome to the inaugural release of Filomena Wine Company. This has been years and years in the making (you’ll notice my logo says “Est. 2014”). Thank you all for being patient and supportive, it has been quite the journey. A journey of which I think the women whose names grace these wine bottles would be proud. My nona (grandma), Elaine Filomena Baratte, played an immeasurable role in my upbringing; as I’m sure her nona, Filomena Pedrazzi, did for her. I wanted to honor them in whatever small way I could with my label, which is why I named it “Filomena Wine Company”. The logo was also inspired by my nona’s handwriting (shout-out to designer Justin Wood).
For those interested, there are expanded stories of the vineyards and how I started working with their respective grapes in the “Vineyard” tab of our website. Read a bit about the wines on this release below and enjoy!
2015 Griffin’s Lair Syrah
I have had quite a long history and journey with Griffin’s Lair, relatively speaking of course. There have been more harvests in my winemaking career working with fruit from Griffin’s Lair than not, having first worked with the fruit even before my time at Bedrock. However, it wasn’t until I worked at Bedrock that I would get a chance to work with this amazing Syrah for my own label (extended story on the website).
The second week of September in 2015 I found myself staring at two macro bins full of dark, soft marbles, connected by their green skeletons (clones Alban and 470 to be exact). I’d forklifted macros off trucks to the scales and onto the fruit processing line countless times, but this was different. These were mine, like really mine and I could do whatever I wanted with them. I could just hop in and lay in them if I really wanted-- who’s going to stop me? Well I did hop in the bins, but it wasn’t for napping, it was for foot stomping.
Some recent tastings of Northern Rhone royalty, Auguste Clape’s titular Cornas bottling, along with my experience in New Zealand with Trinity Hill and Warren Gibson’s La Collina label, led me down the path of 100% whole cluster fermentation. The added pepper and savory notes the stems would contribute on top of what was already a dark, black olive, meaty Syrah may seem like overkill to some, but what’s the fun of winemaking if not for a little experimentation. In addition to 100% whole cluster, I decided not to inoculate with yeast for primary fermentation, but to let the indigenous yeast living on the grape skins and in the winery do their job. I also opted to let the newly fermented wine sit on the skins for about two weeks post-fermentation before pressing to let the chunky stem tannins mellow out and become a touch rounder. The pressed wine was barreled down to one neutral 500L puncheon where it sat for 16 months before being bottle-aged for 3 years.
Tons of dark fruit and spice on the nose, almost with the intensity of a digestif. A touch of blackberry and clove, pepper notes from the whole cluster, and hiding just under the surface, that varietal savoriness of Syrah (though you have to look for it a bit in this wine). We picked after the September heat spike in 2015, so the ripe fruit character wants to elbow the savory out of the picture, but hold steadfast and find that umami; it’s worth it. Both feral and ferric up front on the palate, quite lifted towards the finish, really waking up the taste buds. Deep fruit behind the finish towards the back of the tongue that lingers for a conversation with you, “How was that? Pretty good, huh? Don’t worry, I’m not goin’ anywhere. Take your time on that next sip”. The bottle aging has also really worked its wonders on the tannin structure of this wine: resolved, respectful, and befriending of the fruit on the back of the finish.
2018 Ricci Vineyard St. Laurent
Now, I’ve always prided myself on liking the weird, outlying stuff. I mean, I have a Jean Machi Giants jersey for crying out loud and even the most hardcore SF fans would have trouble recalling that wonderfully rotund middle relief pitcher. Baseball fandom aside, St. Laurent is weird in the best of ways. I wouldn’t say it is as wonderfully rotund as Jean Machi; in fact, it is usually quite the opposite, filled with bright red fruit and medium acid on the palate. However, on the nose it can be quite a bit more brooding and savory. And that makes sense considering how it is thought to be a genetic cross of Pinot Noir and Savagnin.
The St. Laurent grape started its journey in the small village of Saint-Laurent-Medoc (imagine that), in Bordeaux. It then migrated across France, through Alsace and Germany in the mid to late 1800s, to where it is mostly planted now: Austria and their northern neighbor, the Czech Republic. It made an even longer journey at the turn of the millenium, however, when Dale Ricci, owner and operator of Ricci Vineyards, imported budwood from some of the last remaining vines of St. Laurent in Germany to plant on his home vineyard in Carneros.
The next journey the St. Laurent would make is into two macro bins destined for Filomena Wine Company. As I pulled up to the winery with the fruit, I was going back and forth in my head about how I wanted to make this wine. There was no time to dawdle, as it was a busy harvest day at Bedrock. The musings over my new grapes would move to the back of my head as we worked through the daily tasks. Finally at the end of the day, I had almost unconsciously made the decision to try some partial carbonic maceration with the ferment to try and coax a bit more unique flavor out of the grapes.
I dumped one bin into the fermenter whole cluster (without foot-treading) while destemming the other bin over the top of that fruit. I followed with a heavy scoop of dry ice and sealed up the tank with shrink wrap, creating a totally anaerobic environment. During carbonic maceration, in the absence of oxygen, grapes begin to enzymatically ferment from the inside out as well as start to break down any malic acid present. The results are bright, red fruit flavors and aromas along with less impactful tannins. You have to be careful with the stems though; because carbonic usually results in a much lighter style wine, the tannins can sometimes skew out of balance and be perceived as too bitter (experimentation for the win!). To cope with that, I only left the tank sitting purely anaerobic for about four days before unwrapping it and foot-treading the ferment, letting the indigenous yeast finish the job. It was pressed as soon as it was dry and, in order to maintain some of that brightness on the nose and palate, I kept half of it in a stainless steel barrel and the other half in a neutral 400 liter puncheon for 9 months before going to bottle.
Raspberry, black tea, and sage on the nose, a fair amount of green spice character from the stems. Bright acid up front on the palate, almost citrusy, tannins don’t peek out until the finish’s finish, though they reveal themselves more the longer the bottle is open. Extremely quaffable, each sip beckons another until you tip the glass back and realize it’s empty...but you know how to solve that problem.
Thank You’s
First and foremost, a most sincere thank you to Colonel Morgan Twain-Peterson MW and celebrity winemaker, Chris Cottrell. Not only did you have faith in me to be master of the Bedrock cellar, but you guys gave me the chance to start my own label and supported me every step of the way. I will be eternally grateful for all you have done for me, you guys are the best and only continue to get better.
Thank you to my parents, Theresa and Chuck, for drinking wine at dinner while I was growing up and for all of your support, all forms of it. And to the label’s namesakes, Filomena Pedrazzi and Elaine Filomena, thank you for your values and dedication as matriarchs of the family.
A huge thank you to the growers who have allowed me to work with their fruit and do all I can to make interesting and thought provoking wines. They work tirelessly throughout the year so that we can stomp around on their fruit a bit and say we made a wine. I have the utmost respect for them and remind myself every day how lucky I am to have the chance to work with their fruit. All wine begins in a vineyard, but great wine begins in the mind and soul of a grower.
Thank you to Joan and Jim Griffin for being loving founders and stewards of Griffin’s Lair. The property was sold to another very experienced wine-growing bunch, the Flynn and Colb families, in early 2018. And though Jim sadly passed away later that year, I swear I can still hear him tinkering down in the barn every time I walk the rows at Griffin’s. We love you Joan, we miss Jim, and dedicate this inaugural bottling and release to his memory. Thank you Joan and Jim!
And of course, the other half of this release. Thank you to Tyler Kohfeld (no longer “Tyler Softball” in my phone) for connecting me with his family’s vineyard. And to Dale Ricci for having a curious enough mind to give both a young winemaker in me and a relatively unknown variety in St. Laurent a chance. Redeveloping blocks in a vineyard is a huge investment, both in time and money. And you’ve entrusted me with that precious fruit, so thank you Dale!
A shout-out to all of the Bedrock harvest interns, both in the vineyard and cellar, that helped me and my wines through our journey. There are too many to list, but you know who you are. And to the Bedrock full-timers, Cody, Seph, Sarah, and Jake, thank you for all the hard work you do every day. You’re all the real MVPs and don’t ever forget it.
Potentially the biggest thank you to my incredible, outstanding, amazing, and fantastic fiancee, Kat Frasco. You have been with me through every step of this journey, gotten your feet grapey, put up with my shenanigans, and been the best dog mom to Kuma. On top of all that, you even designed our awesome website. I love you and can’t wait to see where this train takes us.
And thank YOU for taking time out of your day to read a little bit of rambling about where my journey into making my own wine started and where it is headed in the future. We hope you enjoy the wines!
Cheers,
Luke, Kat, and Kuma
