Today
in the Georgia Lowcountry, the temperature is hovering in the upper eighties,
the humidity around ninety-five percent. My yard is filled with pines and live
oaks, which remain thick with green foliage, and there is not a single leaf
falling. Yet it feels like autumn, even if there is no nip in the air.
The
clarified light gives it away, this turning of the seasons. That and the smell
of muscadine wine fermenting in my downstairs bathtub, the closest thing I have
to a cool, dark basement. When I was growing up, that pungent pong signaled the
end of summer. It meant that the grapevines had finished producing, and that my
father would be turning his attention from planting and weeding and harvesting
to home brewing. And it meant that we’d have bottles of sweet wine ready for
the grown-ups to drink on Christmas Day (and for us youngsters to enjoy in the
fruit filling of my mother’s Lane Cake, a treat she baked only once a year).
I’m
one of the grown-ups now, thank goodness, so I can have my cake and drink my
wine too. My father no longer makes wine, so he gifted me with his giant glass
brewing jars—the ones currently taking up all my spare bathtub space—and his
secret recipe, which isn’t really a secret at all—I share it below—but I call
it that because it makes a better story.
There’s
nothing fancy here, folks. The yeast is regular old yeast like you find in the
baking section of the supermarket (though I’m experimenting this year with
yeast specifically for white wines). There are no specially engineered bungs
and airlocks, no hydrometers and pH sticks. Just big glass jars with balloons
on the neck that inflate as the mashed-up fruit ferments.
As
I move into my fifties, I find myself coming into skills that I never had as a
callow youth, gifts I inherited but could never fully utilize. My green thumb
didn’t develop until my forties, and neither did my winemaking abilities. I
think it has something to do with patience and attention, an appreciation of
slow time, a willingness to settle into cycles and seasons.
My
2018 vintage is already bubbling away. If you’re in my neck of the woods on
Christmas Day, come by and I’ll share a glass. Or you can make your own. Here’s
how. Cheers!
Archie
T’s Muscadine Wine
8
quarts muscadine grapes (purple or bronze)
4-5
lbs sugar (depending on sweetness of your grapes)
1
package yeast
1
gallon fresh water
You’ll
need a large glass (preferable) or plastic container for fermenting—it should
be big enough to hold all your ingredients, plus allow for the bubble of
fermentation. I use a five-gallon pickle jar.
Wash
your grapes very well, removing any leaf or stem bits. Get a big tub or cooking
pot large enough to hold your grapes, and then crush them up good. You can do
this with your bare hands (in which case, I recommend gloves as the juice is
highly acidic), or with a potato smasher, or you can put the grapes in the
freezer and let them burst, then thaw them to room temperature and continue.
Combine
the grapes (hulls and juice together) with the water and sugar and yeast. Cover
the lid of your container with something that will let gas escape (cheesecloth
held on with a rubber band works well, as does a balloon). Let it sit for about
three weeks, stirring daily.
Once
fermentation has stopped, remove the pulp and siphon the wine into a clean
container, leaving any sediment behind. Let it settle for three weeks, then
siphon off again. Repeat the settle/siphon process at least one more time, then
siphon into clean bottles.
Enjoy
with people you love.
* * *
Tina Whittle writes the Tai Randolph mysteries for Poisoned Pen Press. The sixth book in this Atlanta-based series—Necessary Ends—is available now. Tina is a proud member of Sisters in Crime and has served as both a chapter officer and national board member. Visit her website to follow her on social media, sign up for her newsletter, or read additional scenes and short stories: www.tinawhittle.com.
Do you have fruitflies hovering? And are you using white wine yeast for all your batches or some of both? Wine time in the Low Country must be a special time.
ReplyDeleteI've never been bothered with the flies because it's securely indoors methinks -- the basement brew was always plagued with them; my dad called them "drunkards" and made sure they didn't get into the brew. And I have three batches going -- two traditional and one experimental. I shall report back!
ReplyDeleteWhat a fun tradition, Tina! Raising a glass and hoping everything turns out great!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Karla! i wish you were close enough to share a glass with me!
ReplyDeleteWhat fun! I'll raise a glass from here and toast your success. I'm impressed by the size of the muscadine grapes - I've never seen them before.
ReplyDeleteTina, I can see you are really enjoying your time now. My California daughter's next door neighbor makes wine, too, and he has won all kinds of awards for his wine. As for me, I've never tried to make wine. The only grapes I have growing on the back fence probably wouldn't be all that good to make wine with.
ReplyDeleteSounds like fun on a small scale. My grandfather used to make his own Italian wine until the grapes got too expensive and it was cheaper to buy it.
ReplyDeleteTina, thank you for this post. It reminds me of my aunt's experiments with making wine. I wish she could have had your recipe!
ReplyDeleteMy grandmother's family made elderberry wine, and some years dandelion wine. No one has carried on the tradition, though.
ReplyDeleteI have discovered one can make wine out of most anything with some sugar in it--I even saw a recipe for banana wine. Getting into the hobby seriously is expensive, but for just kicking around, pretty cheap if you have a source of fruit. Our backyard vine has made over twenty gallons this year, so not only will we be rolling in wine, we'll be up to our ears in jelly too.
ReplyDeleteOh Tina, I could smell those vines warming in the sun as I read this. And how wonderful to have them right outside your door. I make a berry cordial that is not as complicated, but there is somethin' somethin' about the kiss of the grape. My neighbors across the street use a recipe similar to yours and make their annual batches from Sonoma grapes fermented in trash bins in the garage of their 1895 home. They also make a divine port which they share with the hood at Xmas so I try to stay on their nice list :) Thanks for sharing your story and great good blessings for this year's harvest!
ReplyDelete