Looks garagiste doesn’t it?
The demijohn in the photo to the right contains 20 litres of wine, my wine, my first ever wine actually, and as I speak, said wine is completing it’s malolactic fermenation in my suburban garage, just metres from where I sit right now.
Which, ipso facto, makes my garage a winery, and me a winemaker.
And I love it.
The wine itself may not end up amounting to much, and at this stage it smells volatile to the point of fault and tastes frighteningly tannic, but just the process itself, the process of turning grapes into wine, is one of the most exciting things that any wine lover can ever undertake.
What has made this all the more involved is that each and every step of the process was done by hand. Hand picked, hand destemmed, hand crushed even hand pressed. Not just any hands either but my hands (ok, I did get another pair of hands to help pick and destem).
And I loved it.
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