Vendemmia

An Italian Adventure

Harvesting our grapes

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Saturday, 3 September. Dawn breaks over Monferrato to the sound of tractors purring down country lanes. It's grape harvest time and an early start will allow two full picking sessions, with, of course, a proper break for lunch.

White grapes mature before black grapes. Today we shall pick Chardonnay, next week Moscato, and later, the black Barbera grapes.

At eight, we close our front door – no need to lock it - and stroll into our adjacent vineyard for our first vendemmia. The grape harvest is part of life across Southern Europe, but a new experience for us Northerners, for whom hitherto wine has been accessed only by removing a cork from a bottle. All through our negotiations to purchase Casa della Fontana, we have watched these grapes develop from bare vines to the full-bodied bunches awaiting us today. We feel we know these particular grapes.

We walk up the hill, armed with a pair of secateurs and a bottle of water each. Bob, my husband, is wisely wearing my straw sunhat, (although it doesn't suit him). There is already a great deal of activity. Paolo and Patrizia, who are in charge of the harvest, have organised the equipment and a dozen or so helpers, including relatives from Turin. These older Piedmontese have not lost their country roots, and wouldn't miss this for the world, although Patrizia's son, she tells me with disappointment, is al mare (at the seaside) with his girlfriend. Much to Bob's embarrassment, he is introduced as the nuovo padrone (new boss).

We have passed a shiny red tractor and large trailer parked at the bottom of the vineyard. Paolo is driving his cingolo (caterpillar-tracked tractor) with a hopper on the back. Even our elderly tractorino, which we have been firmly cautioned has defective brakes, has been pressed into service, to deliver the bright orange cassette (fruit boxes).

Chardonnay grapes

3 September 2006. Awaiting harvest - today.

Shiny red tractor

Waiting for a load at the bottom of the vineyard

The pickers carry these boxes along the rows of vines, depositing one every 10 yards or so, ready to collect the cut grapes. Now we are ready to start and Patrizia shows us what to do. Take the secateurs, move the leaves aside to expose the stalk, cut that and then place the grapes in the orange box. It seems very straight forward. I try one, a large bunch. Clip.

As you're snipping the stalk, you catch the bunch of grapes by the body. Cradled in my left hand, this bunch is enormous, settling into my palm and lolling over both sides with a rolling motion, it almost seems alive. Which of course it is.

We work in pairs, on opposite sides. These vines have been trained to grow along wires about five feet high, with the bunches hanging down, so to cut the higher ones you work above your head. The lowest are at waist level, so there is not too much bending, but after a while, you feel like you have been painting a ceiling.

Because you are working on opposite sides of a leafy vine, care is required not to lop off a pair of fingers, so bunch-hunting is conducted with a distinct rustle. Oh dear, some bunches have been missed. Patrizia points them out, and you begin to realise that this is not quite as simple as it seems.

Chardonnay has the cunning habit of hiding its fruit behind vine posts, or deeply camouflaged by leaves, or, even worse, has put out tendrils to wrap the bunch around a training wire, so that when you cut the stalk, it still doesn't fall. In fact, by using tendrils, grape bunches can seem to defy gravity and grow upwards, so the stalk, when you find it, is actually at the base of the bunch! But once wise to these tricks, you don't get caught as often.

Fairly soon the cutting pairs have finished their row, and move on to the next one. Strapping young lads pick up the boxes you have just filled and carry them to the end of the row, where Paolo is waiting with his cingolo. Each box weighs about 20kg, not too bad, as long as you only have to lift one now and again.

Into the hopper go the grapes, and when the hopper is full, off goes Paolo to the waiting tractor and trailer to deposit the grapes. By the time this is accomplished, the next row is picked, and ready for collection. Evidently, the logistics are finely balanced; just the right number of pickers to keep the cingolo fully employed, no bottlenecks, and no waiting time.

A bit like painting a ceiling

Chardonnay vines are trained along wires five feet high

A full load

We won't get any more in here

The sun climbs in the sky and the temperature rises. Bob certainly needs that sunhat. Bottles of water vanish. Your body adjusts to the rhythm of the work, one row becomes two, two become four, and before you know it, time for lunch. All the while, you are working surrounded by beautiful countryside. Over there, we see the orange boxes in Francesco's vineyard, and his team of pickers, and further up the valley another cingolo can be heard puttering about.

In the afternoon, the process continues, and after two days, the vineyard is clean of grapes. Trailer loads have been taken away to the winery. The grapes will be processed and the wine bottled as Piedmont Chardonnay DOC. And having tasted the occasional grape, it promises to be every bit as nice as last year's (which we have of course sampled).

E mail: kerrie@anitalianadventure.co.uk

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