A Virtual Wine Trip, Vicariously Coping With COVID’s Vicissitudes

By Nick Antonaccio

Here we are, heading toward our third year of living in COVID hell.

So…what’s in store for us going forward?

I don’t know, you don’t know, the government doesn’t know, the scientists don’t know, the politicians don’t know.

Living in the present is full of uncertainty. Allow me in this week’s column to revel in those relatively certain pre-COVID times, when we traveled freely and without restrictions.

Herewith, in the following paragraphs, I reprise a wine trip to the Burgundy region of France, which provides a bit of escapism to help me endure the melancholy mood I’m in as I pen this column. Perhaps it will hearten you to plan for better times ahead.   

The pungent aromas wafting through the air in the subterranean cellars of the winery were like no others I have ever experienced. Yes, I’ve visited many wine cellars in my travels over the years. But here, at this moment, in this time and place, I was inundated with a barrage of complementary and contradictory aromas and air moisture, slippery floors underfoot and the faint but ever-present sense of the ghosts of past vintners.

Generations of winemakers had plied their trade within the four walls that bore the history of the winery, laboring through the best and worst vintages over the centuries. All of these components filtered through my senses and into my psyche as I shuffled through the dark passageways amidst scores of barrels containing multiple vintages of fine wine, quietly resting as they continued their uninterrupted maturation.

I was living the dream. I was in Burgundy.

My mantra on this trip through French wine country has been “to taste barrel samplings deep in hand-carved wine caves, to caress grape-laden grapevines in sun-drenched vineyards, to sample ripe grapes as they were being prepared for the harvest crush, to rub soil and rocks between my fingers to understand the nutrient-poor stress placed on grapevines.”

And here we were, in late September on a cloudy early morning, as the sun cast its scant rays on the eastern slopes of ripening clusters of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay (the hallmark grapes of Burgundy), eagerly walking amongst grapevines. My friend Rick and I had abandoned our car on the lower slopes, with their paved roads, and had trudged along rudimentary narrow trails of mud and rocks to sample the near-harvest grapes deep in the commune of Vosne-Romanée in the Cotes de Nuits subregion.

I chose this time of day to elude the crews who toiled in the vineyards as the harvest date drew closer. I knew we would have been shooed away, and rightfully so, if we interfered with their time-worn process.

My intent on this trek into my vineyard nirvana was to validate the claims of many before me: the terroir of Burgundy is unlike any other in the world. Geologically and meteorologically, each plot has unique attributes. The overwhelming majority of the vineyard plots are small and Mother Nature has created microcosms in which plots just a few meters apart have characteristics unlike any other nearby plots.

With my experiment in mind, Rick and I sampled grapes from vines across the narrow dirt path from one another and grapes on differing gradients on the long gentle slope on which we were treading. Individual vineyards were indistinguishable from one another. In some cases, just a cloth rag, dangling from a small stake in the ground, separated a few rows of vines from the next owner’s few rows.

True to Burgundy’s reputation, each of the berries we sampled was distinct in its tannin, acidity and fruit levels. I had not experienced this before; these were not refined subtleties, but obvious differences. We inhaled and then tasted differing aspects of soil minerality, complex sugars, tannins and flavor profiles. After six or seven of these field experiments, we finally understood the mystery and reputation of Burgundy.

So there you have it, and yes, it was uplifting for me.

I welcome living vicariously through your pre- what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-my-life travel adventures. Please send them. I’m certain they will provide the sustenance I need to endure these times.

Nick Antonaccio is a 45-year Pleasantville resident. For over 25 years, he has conducted wine tastings and lectures. Nick is a member and program director of the Wine Media Guild of wine journalists. He also offers personalized wine tastings and wine travel services. Nick’s credo: continuous experimenting results in instinctive behavior. You can reach him at nantonaccio@theexaminernews.com or on Twitter @sharingwine.

Nick Antonaccio