Stories behind the pour, from first sip to last goodbye: a day at the cellar door.

Before work I was down at the village square for my morning coffee and noted an average number of visitors in the cafes for breakfast and a few people already setting out on bicycles, tricycles and quads from one of the hire places. I look at the booking register and note we have a guided tasting for six at 10am. A total of twenty four lunch bookings. I set up tables for lunch with plates, napkins on top under cutlery, water glasses, menus wedged under the plates, and drinks lists. Oh, and some heavy stones for the outside tables to stop the drinks lists blowing away.

It’s ten minutes till opening time and it looks like our six people for the 10am guided tasting have already arrived on one of those pedal quad bikes. They seem a welcome mix of ordinary couples in perhaps their late thirties or early forties. Shortly I go out, greet them, put the open sign out and usher them inside to the table set up in the tasting section of the combined tasting dining room, closing it off with the large heavy sliding doors. The Cellar Door Manager will take them through a structured tasting comprising a representative mix of current release wines and some older Pinot Noirs that should give insight into how these wines develop with bottle age.

Our first two walk-in customers arrive and ask if we do tasting flights. I explain we have a list of eight wines available for tasting, and guests are able to choose which wines they want to taste from the list. The tasting size is a generous 30ml and there is a fixed price per taste. “Where are you from?” I ask. “New Plymouth” (a city on the west coast of New Zealand’s North Island) is the answer. “So you may know that Martinborough has an excellent reputation for Pinot Noir and ours are no exception. But we also specialize in the other Burgundy grape – Chardonnay. We are one of the bigger Chardonnay producers in the region and we have two very good and quite different Chardonnays you should try.” “Hmmn, we don’t really like Chardonnay, so I think we’ll skip those” comes the reply, one not uncommon. “Oh, what is it about the Chardonnay you’ve tried before that you don’t like?” I ask. From the answer, I deduce they have been exposed to big oaky, buttery Chardonnays and really dislike those flavours.

I persuade, “there used to be a fashion in winemaking where Chardonnay was fermented in 100% new oak and went though a process that really brings out buttery flavours. A lot of people really don’t like that style – but it's just one style. Chardonnay can be made in a wide range of styles. Our two Chardonnays are very different, but neither are buttery and I’d be surprised if you found either of them overly oaky. I reckon, somewhere in the world of wine is a Chardonnay you will love, and it just might be one of ours. Why don’t you try them?” They cautiously agree to try the two Chardonnays side by side and then two of our single vineyard Pinot Noirs from a less-than-ideal vintage. But first up they are tasting Sauvignon Blanc and Rose.

I start with the Sauvignon Blanc which I pour in Riesling glasses. While pouring I tell the history of our winery and how we got our name. Then onto the wine. “You are probably familiar with Sauvignon Blanc from Marlborough. Marlborough is NZ’s biggest wine region and Sauvignon Blanc is our highest production grape. It’s a unique style with a mix of zingy acidity, bold passionfruit, lime and grassy flavours of green capsicum, tomato leaf, snow peas and fresh crushed green herbs. Often there’s a bit of residual sugar to balance out that zingy acidity and grassy flavour. Martinborough Sauvignon Blanc is a bit different. Our nights are warmer, the acidity of our wine is a little softer, and we get a little more tropical flavour and a little less of the grassiness. And this wine is fermented to completely dry; we find this makes the wine a bit more food friendly”.

There are no questions, so I leave them to discuss the wine between themselves. From the approving smiles and body language it seems they’ve enjoyed it. I take the Rose over and pour in the same glasses. “So this is Pinot Noir off the XXXX block, picked early, crushed and left on the skins for about 4-5 hours to extract just enough from the skins to give that beautiful iridescent salmon pink colour, then fermented in stainless steel tanks until completely dry”. I talk them through the aromatic and flavour profile and then again leave them to enjoy it. It’s another hit. Now for the challenge.

I select four Riedel Montrachet glasses and set two in front of each person. I take out the two Chardonnays and pour the first in each left-hand glass and the second in the right-hand glass. They both express delight with the glasses, but she looks decidedly dubious about the wine.

“I mentioned before about styles of Chardonnay and there is such a huge range of styles that are possible, we sometimes call Chardonnay ‘the winemaker’s grape’. In fact, even before the wine maker gets to play there are many factors that influence what kind of wine we get”, I say. “Things like the climate, soil and clone selection have an impact. Unlike Pinot Noir which is very fussy about where it grows, Chardonnay can be grown in a wide range of climates from quite cool places like Champagne and the south of England where it is used to make a light fresh wine base for sparkling wines to hot places like the South of France and parts of California where it can make big fat tropical fruity wines. Chardonnay on chalky soils does not taste the same as Chardonnay grown on volcanic loam. But let’s just look at one region like Martinborough and let’s talk about winemaking decisions….”

“The first key decision is when to pick. Picked earlier the grapes will have higher acidity, less sugar and tend more to green apple and lemon juice flavours. Picked later, grapefruit and white stone fruit flavours come more to the fore. Later still those stone fruit flavours are more yellow. Really late, especially in warmer climates, you might get tropical fruit flavours like pineapple and mango, but sugars will be high and acidity low – this can mean wines that have high alcohol and little freshness, they taste hot and flabby. Then you have a choice of how to ferment. If you ferment in stainless steel, you will only express the inherent fruit flavours of the grape itself. Fermenting in oak vessels adds another dimension but most oak flavour comes from the first use of the barrel. Ripe Chardonnay soaks up oak flavour really well, but most winemakers are careful how much new oak they use. “

“Another key decision is whether to allow the wine to go through malolactic conversion. We get three primary acids in wine from the grapes – tartaric acid, citric acid, and malic acid. Malic acid is the acid that tastes like green apples, it’s fresh and crisp and quite angular in the mouth. We keep that acid in our Riesling and Sauvignon Blanc because it gives the wine freshness and drive. But with Chardonnay it is a winemaker’s decision whether to keep it or change it. Malolactic conversion is a process that changes that angular malic acid to the softer rounder lactic acid- the acid you find in yoghurt, along with carbon dioxide that makes the wine bubble until the process is finished. It’s caused by a lactic bacteria and some strains can produce buttery flavours we call diacetyl but this is not an inevitable result. “

“A third decision is around lees contact. Lees are the spent yeast cells after fermentation. Allowing the wine to rest on the lees can impart some additional flavour compounds to the wine that might smell or taste like bread, toast or brioche. Stirring up the wine and lees together periodically can accentuate these flavours.”

“Now let’s look at our two wines. The first wine is made from a blend of grapes from three different vineyards in Martinborough and from clones that tend to show finer aromatics, not so much phenolic weight and a mineral or saline edge. We picked these grapes nicely ripe and fermented in oak barrels but only 20% of these were new. The wine was not allowed to go through malolactic conversion and spent 10 months in barrel on lees with just a couple of gentle stirs. The finished product is a more fruit driven and mineral expression of Chardonnay, with citrus blossom, white stonefruit, ripe grapefruit and a slightly saline edge. I’d drink this with panfried gurnard (a white fish) in a light lemon sauce….”

“The second wine is picked about the same time but it’s from a single vineyard and a particular clone of Chardonnay called Mendoza which has a genetic habit called millerandage. That means the bunches have a mix of large and small berries with the small berries providing a greater skin to juice ratio, thicker skins and higher solids, so when the grapes are crushed there are more phenolic compounds and a bigger richer texture. The juice is fermented in oak barrels but this time there are more new oak barrels used – 30%. Some of the wine has gone through malolactic conversion. Otherwise, the wine spent the same time in barrel as the previous. But it’s bigger, rounder, more generous, the citrus flavour is more like lemon curd than grapefruit, the stonefruits are more yellow and there is a bit more nuttiness. And when you first sniff it’s not as aromatic as the first wine. For me, this is the wine for roast chicken or lobster mornay…”

My guests are tasting the wine now and clearly enjoying both. I ask “can you taste any butteriness?” “No, none at all” they reply? “Is either too oaky?” I ask. No, neither of these taste oaky. They are both really nice, I can’t believe it, I looove the second one” she says.

We go on to taste the Pinot Noirs – in a nice Eisch Pinot Noir glass. There’s a narrative about those, but I won’t repeat it. So far no other customers have come in so I have been able to give this couple quite focused attention. It’s 10.45 am now as they come to the counter to settle the tasting bill. “Could we have six bottles of the second Chardonnay?” “Of course”, I say, selecting a new 6 bottle case and giving then the 10% discount. “Yes!!!” my unvoiced celebratory cry. “Another ABC club conversion!”

The prebooked guided tasting is continuing as I clear the glasses into the trays and wipe the table, just as two more quad bikes each with four young ladies pedal into the park. More customers, I should be excited, I’m trying to NOT revert to stereotypes based on a few years of experience, but… In they walk, not yet worse for wear. “Can we do a tasting” asks the leader. “Certainly,” I reply and explain how it all works. “You are quite a large group so it would be helpful if you try to so the same things…” “But I don’t like red wine” one says, another “I love Pinot”, another, “no Savvy for me”. My heart sinks, this is going to be tedious, but I smile bravely, seat them at a large table outside and bring them water while they decide. As I feared they are all doing completely different combinations. I explain that I will discuss each wine in the order on their tasting sheet, so if they are not on that wine yet they will need to either listen or rely on the notes on the sheet. I pour the first wines, three Sauvignon Blancs, one Riesling, two Roses, the first Chardonnay and one of the Pinot Noirs. Most of them don't listen to the explanations. The tastes are skulled in seconds. But one picks up on my mention of stawbery and red apple flavours in the Rose and asks "do you put strawberries and red apples in the wine?" I suppress a sigh and explain that all of the flavours either come from the grapes, particularly the skins and from the fermentation process that creates these flavour compounds, But she's already switched off. Okay, next… it’s quite hard to keep track of everything but somehow I manage and in 40 minutes they are done. They come up to pay. They want to split the bill eight ways according to what each person tasted, and not a single bottle of wine is sold. We were their second stop. They will cram as many tastings in as possible over the day, but are unlikely to purchase any wine. I feel sorry for the cellar doors who are not allowed to charge for the tastings because they do not have food available. (This absurd NZ law finally changed in 2024 and since then paid tastings at cellar doors have been permitted for samples up to 35ml without a cafe style food service).

The guided tasting was completed while I was looking after these young ladies. We have some full trays of used glasses from the morning activity, so I put these through the dishwasher and boast of my ABC conversion success to the Cellar Door Manager, who informs me he sold a total of 12 bottles from his guided tasting. Not a bad start to the morning! Before we know it, our first lunch customers start to arrive. It’s a blur of drinks and food service and we have quite a few walk-ins for lunch without a booking, which happily we can accommodate. Then just after 1pm, a mixed group of around 6-7 young people come in.  “Can we do a wine tasting?” I reply, “well yes you can, but as you can see we are quite busy with lunch service so I can pour your wines and give you a bit of an overview but I may not be able to give you chapter and verse on every wine you taste. I will give you tasting notes. Is that okay?” They are happy enough, so I find a table for them, pour their water and explain how it works. I once again appeal for some agreement among them in what they taste and happily they get it. When I return, they are all tasting the same five wines. They’ve helped me and I will do my darndest to give them the right attention despite the busy lunch service.

They are a dream group of lovely young people from different parts of New Zealand. I am not entirely sure how they all got together but they clearly know each other. They are respectful, they listen, they ask intelligent questions. Despite the lunchtime pressure of serving food, pouring drinks, clearing plates and putting glasses through the dishwasher I manage to talk them properly though all the wines and I sense it’s appreciated. At the end of the tasting one guy comes up to the counter and says he will pay for all their tastings. I want to hug him! Three of four others buy a bottle or two of wine which I put through as quick sales. I thank them profusely. Thie timing was inconvenient, but they understood and more than compensated.

It’s almost 2pm, all of our booked diners have arrived, some already departed, but we are still getting walk-ins, mostly couples. We seat them, set up plates, cutlery and napkins, pour water, give them menus, return in a couple of minutes for their orders, take the food orders to the kitchen and pour their drinks. Two couples come in together, late twenties. “Can we do pizza and drinks?” “Sure” I reply, seat them, etc. “Can I have a gin with raspberry lemonade”. I resist the temptation to roll my eyes and answer “of course”. “Can I have the same?” asks the other lady. “How about you gentlemen?” I ask. They both order beers. Damn! We’re a cellar door, our raison d’etre is wine sales, but we offer outstanding food and a limited range of other drinks including beers, gin and tonic, and non-alcoholic. I serve their beers and pink lemonade gins with a smile.

The lunch crowd has thinned out now and I have a single male customer walking in – I’d guess in his late fifties. He’s here for a wine tasting so I set him up and get him started. His accent is North American so I ask him where he is from. He tells me he lives in Alaska, but I don’t recall the exact unfamiliar location. He’s tasting all of the Pinot Noirs which he enjoys and as we chat more, he tells me he owns 80 acres under vine in Oregon. I’ve only tasted a few Oregon Pinot Noirs – all good but I know its reputation. In between table clearing and washing glasses we have a great conversation. He buys a couple of bottles when he leaves. I love customers like this that have knowledge but are still keen to experience new wine regions and approach with open minds.