| Winter
2001, Premier Issue

Wade
Wolfe, winery manager for Hogue and owner of Thurston-Wolfe, arrived
in Southeast Washington in 1978 with a doctorate in viticulture
from UC Davis. At the time, Clore was a consultant for Chateau Ste.
Michelle, for whom Wolfe was working.
“I
spent a large part of my first summer wandering around looking at
vineyards, getting a feel for the terrain here with Walt,” he says.
“He showed me a lot of vineyards, the history behind them, why people
did certain things, what they were doing right and wrong.
“We
are a young industry,” says Wolfe. “We’re still learning our potential.
But we’ve learned a lot, through the University and research, from
the groundbreaking work by Clore and NagelÊand the subsequent work
on the cultural level, by Sara Spayd and Bob Wample.” Wample, Clore’s
successor, was the viticulturist at Prosser, until he took a position
in California.
Clore
turned 90 July 1. After his wife Irene died, he moved to a retirement
home in Prosser. The food’s good, he says, and they let him drink
wine. He still consults with Stimson Lane, the parent company of
Columbia Crest and Chateau Ste. Michelle.
“Walt
was out scratching around in the 50s, in areas that became our vineyards,
looking for perfect sites for classic European grape varieties,”
says Ted Baseler, president of Stimson Lane, owner of Chateau Ste.
Michelle, Domaine Ste. Michelle, and Columbia Crest. Clore’s work
is not done.
In
recognition of that work, says Baseler, Columbia Crest’s 1999 Reserve
will be named the Walter Clore Private Reserve Red.
If
Clore has any regrets, it is that one of his favored grapes never
caught on in Washington. Recent figures from the Washington Wine
Commission indicate 29,000 acres in Washington planted to Vitis
vinifera varieties, and growers continue to experiment with
new varieties.
Limberger,
re-spelled “Lemberger” by the marketing folks in an attempt to disassociate
the grape from the cheese, caught the affection of Clore. It also
caught the interest of Julio Gallo, who spent considerable time
in Washington evaluating its young grapes and wine. In fact, he
preferred it to Washington’s Cabernet. During one visit, Clore asked
him if he’d be interested in the variety.
Sure,
said Gallo, “But I want a whole trainload. I have to have a million
gallons to put anything on the market.” At the time, the only Limberger
vines in the state were at the experimental vineyard in Prosser.
So much for Gallo of Washington. Even now, with proven potential
and with fine Limbergers produced by Hogue, Thurston-Wolf, and Kiona,
the Limberger grape remains confined to a mere 100 acres in the
whole state. Still, Clore has not relinquished hope.
“Push
the Limberger,” he says as I leave his apartment.
In
his preface
to The Wine Project, Clore writes of his growing up in a
teetotalling Methodist household and of his gradual understanding
of wine not only as a horticultural challenge, but as a civilizing
influence.
Following
his lead, Vicki Gordon wants to change our culture. This desire,
which many Washington wine people seem to share, has to do, it seems,
with the social and cultural meanings of terroir.
“We
need more wineries,” she says as we drive from the Gordon Brothers
vineyard to the tasting room on the outskirts of Pasco. “We want
one on every corner out here.” This is not a sentiment you would
hear from a shoe merchant or a grocer. Neither would you hear it
from a wheat farmer. More shoes, more groceries, more wheat simply
mean lower prices. And more wine?
To
Vicki Gordon it means a change in how we think. A change in how
we live. A change in how we do business.
“From
vineyard to bottle to table,” she says, “you maintain a sense of
place with wine. When you go to the dinner table, the only thing
you know where it came from is the wine.”
Even
though many of the grapes in Washington are being grown by former,
or current, wheat farmers, there is a dramatic difference in how
their product reaches the consumer.
Himself
a former wheat farmer, Rick Small says he knew he would need to
be more vertically integrated to make it in farming. “We produce
wonderful wheat in Washington, but it’s all com-˜ mingled. You don’t
get anything extra. You don’t get the recognition. No one comes
up to you and says, gee, I just had the bushel of wheat that you
guys grew over on that hill. And I realize this wheat doesn’t make
bread. It’s too bad.”
Small,
the Gordons, and others I talked with want to see Washington agriculture
further explore that vertical integration, the direct marketing,
the connection to the consumer that Washington wine has accomplished.
Not only do they like to know where their wines are going, they
like to know where their food’s coming from.
The
model, however, is valid only to a point. Ted Baseler of Chateau
Ste. Michelle observes that wine grapes are different from other
crops. They are not commodities, he says, and they have tremendous
differentiation.
The
first distinction is price variability. “If you go into a grocery
store and look at apples, there might be some minor price variation,”
says Baseler, “but it’s a small percentage difference. But if you
look at wine, you find a product with dramatic variation. A wine
list can include an $18 bottle and a $1,000 bottle.”
Those
variations are dictated by quality, scarcity, and image, says Baseler.
He calls wine a “cultural crop.”
Admittedly,
no one envisions an end product for wheat, or even apples, that
could result in such variation. However, says Small, “I’ve always
argued that other guys in the Walla Walla Valley should do more
of the same. I think the guys who grow onions could do it.
“Our
way of doing ag in the United States is to just produce the raw
product, with value stuck on by big corporations; and agriculturistsÊthe
people with dirt under their nailsÊare just getting screwed.”
Small
praises the new White House-Crawford˜ restaurant in Walla Walla
for giving credit to individual farmers for the local food that
they serve. Producing local food for local markets and drawing in
outside visitors to enjoy those local flavors is the direction many
desire.
And
wine provides the lead. Tourism and hospitality are not a panacea
and are not without associated problems, but they can help effect
a change toward making agriculture more diverse, more consumer oriented,
more cultural.
There
are 200 commercially grown crops in Washington, says Jeff Gordon.
Let’s explore the sense of place expressed by those diverse crops.
Much
associated with wine remains to be explored, he saysÊnot just the
microclimates and differentiated terroirs that give wine their
quality and character, but also the food and culture and tradition
that follow.
“The neat thing about Washington right now,” says Gordon, “it’s all
frontier.” |