Grape Landscape
"The ethos," says Norby, "was to blend in
and respect nature, be part of it."
Crush
By Matthew Lickona
Published July 5, 2007
[Crush
from
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Peder Norby and his wife Julie
wanted an estate home -- something large-scale (3500 square
feet, plus a guest house), something customized
(retractable, accordion-style walls, something worthy of the
Scandinavian custom of house-naming (they went with Heron's
House after twice finding the birds on the Carlsbad lot they
chose for a building site). But they also wanted something
community-friendly (they positioned the house to maintain
one neighbor's view of the lagoon), something unostentatious
(long lines and deep earth tones), and most importantly,
something tied integrally to the surrounding landscape.
"The ethos," says Norby, "was to blend in and respect
nature, be part of it." To that end, "we're trying to pull
in native plantings from the hillside," and they're giving
over a fair portion of their yard space, not to grass, but
to grapevines. "Two of them are Vitis Californica,
which make terrible wine but wonderful foliage. They're
going to be espaliers going up over the house's deck
elements." (Not to suggest that the decision to plant vines
was any kind of designer's afterthought -- "Hey, honey, you
know what's low-water and attractive?" The Norbys
knew they wanted to plant a vineyard, to the point where
getting a south-facing hillside exposure was a priority in
site selection. "My wife and I are both wine drinkers," says
Norby, "and it was, like, 'Can we do it?'" During site
inspection, they added a pH reading to the soil examination,
and once they start getting fruit, they'll send plant
samples to UC Davis for evaluation.)
The rest of the roughly 130 vines -- planted earlier this
year -- are mostly Sangiovese, with a little Cab and Cab
Franc thrown in for good measure. "It's the basic recipe for
a Super-Tuscan," Norby says, "so I'll be doing some straight
Sangiovese, plus some blends. And I'll be making a rosé,"
bleeding off some of the juice during fermentation to
increase the concentration of what remains.
Norby planted Sangiovese -- specifically, the Brunello
clone of that grape -- because he likes to drink it. Also
because Italian varietals are the specialty of his neighbor
Pete Anderson, who lives three blocks away. "I was lurking
on several websites," recalls Norby, "and one of them was
for the San Diego Amateur Winemaking Society. I read where
Lum Eisenman is the mentor for winemaking, and Pete Anderson
is the mentor for grape-growing." The builders were ready to
start pouring concrete for the patios and sidewalks, "so I
figured I'd better e-mail Pete." Anderson had been watching
the house go up and was happy to share the lessons learned
from seven years of grape-growing in a coastal climate.
What that means, first and foremost, is powdery mildew,
which thrives in the relatively moist and temperate clime of
Carlsbad. Not for nothing are there rosebushes planted
alongside the vineyard -- roses show mildew first, acting as
canaries in the coal mine for the vines. The wide row
spacings are designed to allow for plenty of air
circulation, which helps to keep things dry. Happily,
Norby's first year has been a mild one for powdery mildew,
and so far, he's been able to fight off the white dust with
an organic oil spray.
Second is the matter of herbaceousness, which can plague
grapes that don't get a lot of high-heat ripening. "Orfila
in Escondido has that wonderful draped canopy effect with
their vines -- one shoot-positioning wire and the vines just
draping over. That's a really good strategy when you're
dealing with 100-degree weather," to protect the grapes from
sunburn. But in Carlsbad, you want all the sun exposure you
can get, "so we're just going to hedge-prune."
Norby also joined Anderson and his fellow amateur
winemakers in buying fruit from hither and yon, so as to get
a little experience before he starts vinifying his own
fruit. "I'll clean the driveway and the buckets, just do
whatever I can to hang around and learn. They're really
helpful in sharing what they know." So far, he's working
mostly with Anderson's equipment, but the guest-house garage
is eventually going to serve as a winemaking facility, and
once it's time for the finished wine to age, it'll get
pumped into the barrels down in the semisunken wine cellar.
(Norby favors miniature 15- and 30-gallon barrels for
maximum flexibility when it comes to blending and
varietals.)
The end result, he hopes, will be about 1000 bottles a
year of Heron's Flight wine. Between personal consumption,
friends, family, and charity, he doesn't anticipate any
trouble in getting rid of it. And that is enough. "This is
not Phase One," he assures me. "We're not thinking, 'This is
just the beginning.' If I can find a few acres around here,
I won't rule it out, but to be a home winemaker is just
fine."
Of course, that doesn't mean that someone else won't try
for something bigger. "In my opinion, what we're doing, what
Pete's doing, is kind of a little pilot project, to see if
we can get a good bottle of wine," he says (even as he
acknowledges his status as a newcomer). "I think it's the
backyard guys that are going to prove or disprove whether
you can do wine in San Diego County on a commercial basis."
He mentions Twin Oaks Valley Vineyards, and also "people
like Lance and Julie Gillette from Encinitas. They have
something like 24 Viognier vines, and they won their
division at the fair. We're drinking wine now from when
Pete's wines were four years old, and the wine is pretty
darn good. He just won a double gold up at the Orange County
Fair. The grape quality is going to be there, I think -- the
question for commercial viability will be pest management
and disease management." He notes that a couple of small
commercial growers in Fallbrook are buying (or have bought)
land in Temecula, so as to allow for increased volume.
And of course, "the whole tripwire event for Props D and
E here in Carlsbad was when Robert Goldstein tried to buy 40
acres for a vineyard." When Carltas -- the development arm
of the land's owners -- declined, saying that another
developer already had an interest in the property, Goldstein
went digging. Suddenly, "What Happens to the Land" became a
hot political issue. The fallout -- from a viticultural
perspective, at least -- is that "now you have some of these
land guys thinking, 'Grapes? Can you do that here?' They're
a little bit interested." So is Norby. "The whole idea that
you have to be in Napa or Sonoma to make quality wine has
been blown up, I think. Julie and I drive up to Paso Robles
probably four or five times a year, and as you get north of
Santa Barbara, you see strawberries in the flatlands and
grapes on the hillsides. We're growing some pretty damn good
strawberries in Carlsbad, and we used to grow a lot of
grapes down here."
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