Maize Valley

So, Jason and I have been diligently working on our new goal of visiting all the local vineyard and wineries every Saturday after working all day out in the hot sun on what seem to be an unending field of vines. Last week at Wolf Creek was cool, but this week we took a different way home and stumbled on Maize Valley Market and Winery.

First off - check out Maize Valley - blog

Anyway, we showed up at about 6pm, exhausted from being in the sun all day and were super happy to see that they also offered small amounts of sustinence along with booze. We did a basic tasting of all the grapes grown on site, the server was pleasant as we pointed to names of wines on a bright red colored menu and tried them for a quarter a piece. We went through almost all white wines before I asked her - do you grow any reds? The answer, not really. I got a taste of the Red Neck Red which includes some wine grown on site, but it kinda tasted more like a white than a rich red. But I still ordered a glass to break my string of white wine loving and Jason settled on a subtle but delicious La Crescent.

The wine that I liked the most at Wolf Creek that they grew on site, the Vignoles, also found its way in to the Maize Valley vineyard, but their mix in the wine was a lot less sweet and a lot more pleasant on the pallet without being overwhelmning. I was excited to try the Traminette wine, a variety we grow, but was almost knocked out of my seat with the sugar content and was equally stunned to find out they didn't grow it on site. Pity, but after seeing the winter die back, I can certainly see why.

I liked the Chardonel, which def tasted like champagne, but the white Vidal was waaaay too sweet for my blood. All in all though, the flavors of their selection were far greater than the previous vineyard and the hand hewn barn beams, large selection of produce and pickles, along with the incredible salami really stole my heart.

We sat outside on a large patio that kinda seemed more like a pavilion with a rope around it. It was laid back while staying upscale enough to make you not want to get loud and drunk. There were a few small outposts for the kids along with some tame representatives from different types of farm animals just beyond the patio, however the quarter machines with feed were all empty. Pity. I really wanted a mule to eat out of my hand.

I knock down a couple of points for the grape wallpaper in the bathroom and the light up grapes around their merchandise. I give mad props to them for classy wares and local artists along with a very rustic yet clean and crisp building. I liked the locally grown produce on their shelves and if I had my own building, I think it would be a fusion similar, with local artists, local meats, local cheeses, local musician, and our own wine and beer made on site. It really got me thinking... hmm, I could get a loan out and rebuild the old mill and do something --- wait. I already work my butt off 7 days a week. I do not want to get ahead of myself. Sheesh

I liked their little petting zoo and the wildflowers. Their grapes were very young. The sheep were friendly and... massive! The pig wanted nothing to do with people. The mule had huge, dopey ears. And while we were enjoying our cheese plate, we witnessed the pygmy goats getting out and mowing down half a row of new grape vines before I ran in frantically telling the lady behind the meat counter about their rampage of destruction. After thinking about it though and knowing how destructive our goats have been on my three year old vines at home that look like I just bought and planted them yesterday, I thought they probably already figured out that was a bad idea but fencing in an ornary set of goats is like trying to hold water in your hands without loosing a drop. They always sneak out.

I loved the wildflowers. Blue bachelors buttons and black eyed susans sat back in patches around oddly placed newly planted trellises and vines. The hen house was empty. The hay house was full. A John Deere tooled around with a happy looking farmer mowing grass with a brush hog. It was a very pretty place and very pleasant as well.

We ended up going home with a bottle of La Crescent with a picture of an ostrich on it. I did like how they had a photo contest to see what picture to put on their wines. I do wish they would have had a signature on the photos though or their logo or something. I do love the simplicity of their MV stamp, which was on everything from the wine bottle seals to their burlap carrying bags. It has a great impact and it really got me thinking what the hell our little logo would be... but then again, what the hell is our name going to be?

As we were leaving and the place was filling up with people of all ages, I would certainly go back... although I would bring a few friends to share the experience with me.

Oh, and I would bring a pocket full of food for the mule as well.

AHHHH!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

It starts! The battle has begun! Shots have been fired and now it's war!!!! AAHHHH!

Mark the calendar. June 25th, 2009. The day I spotted the first japanese beetle.

These little buggers are ridiculous. Every year it seems like they get worse. I just remember them covering the roses at the nursery, crawling into every orifice of their delicate flowers, making my grapevines in their little pots look like green swiss cheese, and buzzing out if you brushed the red beech as you walked by.

In Bowling Green in the summer time, I remember their hot July emergence and the graveyard of beetle corpses on the sidewalk under the house on the corner of court street that sprayed religiously to keep the pests away.
Even before that, when i was young, picking raspberries and sometimes accidentally pinching a beetle instead of a berry and squealing with shock. I liked the iridescent glow of these little bugs, much like my favorite dragon fly that looked like an oil slick. I didn't know what they were until my great aunts informed me that these were pests that had no place in this world and i should kill them whenever I got the chance. Of course, with raspy voices from chain smoking unfiltered cigarettes for 50+ years, their warnings were scarier then the little bugs and it really didn't sink in as far as the magnitude of the beetle problem until much later.

Which brings us to today as I drove around cutting the grass and weeds from around the trunks of the vines in the back vineyard with a keen eye on the vines and shaking a fist and yelling at the little beetles like an old man keeping kids off his lawn. After the anger subsided, I began saying my farewells to the lady bugs and friendly spiders, knowing that the insecticide sprays are soon to follow.

Anyway, here are some pictures of a short little jaunt around the rest of the vineyard to see where all the types are at... some are a bit farther along than others. We'll see how they grow.




I think it is awful now looking over these pictures and I am wondering why I remembered my camera when the grass and weeds were so out of control. But then again, I took so much care taking pictures because it is so difficult to work when the grass and weeds are high so I guess it is a double edged sword.



Anyway, it is really fun to see the "buckshot" berries forming more and more by the day. It seems like the whole summer is flying by as the grape clusters start to actually look like something we might harvest. It feels like just a couple weeks ago my toes were numb in the cold Feb. mornings... but now it's hitting 90 degrees and I am hiding in the shade of the vines for a little reprieve from the sun. Already I am kinda looking forward to football season and Thanksgiving turkey, but maybe it is just because I would like a reason to sit around and drink beers on a Sunday and my turkeys are really getting on my nerves.

I guess I should just enjoy the summer while it's here... horseflies, beetles, turkeys, and all.

~j

buck shot, deer browse and fungus

After half a week of very heavy rain with humidity that made you feel like you were swimming, the clouds have cleared enough to see the forest through the rain. Everything grew soooo much, mainly just the grass and the Marquettes, but the entire place looks so much greener.

Along with the green, came the white downy mildew as well on the new shoots in row 13. As if those struggling vines needed anything else to slow down their start for the year, now I am picking off the new growth as it unfurls to take to my bug and fungus book to find out what is going on. Mold, mildew, fungus, and a couple little green aphids is what's going on.

The sun burns hotter by the day. Soooo dehydrated.

Holy Virginia!

So vacation to the Outer Banks was at such a weird time this year, one week before CSA starts, which made me a bit jittery, and right in the height of hay season along with a super growth spurt in the vineyard. I start at the vines that are really taking off the most but by the time I get to the other side, they need pruned again. The slow growers are just going to have to wait because I have a million arms reaching to the sky like kids in a classroom shouting for attention.
And it's only the three vigorous varieties from Minnesota that laughed at our light spring and charged through our late frost like it was a challenge for them to grow faster. They are all blooming now and I have to admit that grape blooms smell divine. Best smell ever. It is a simple sweetness that is carried with the spring wind, combined with fresh cut hay. If I was a perfume designer, that would be my fragrance. Or deodorant. Or car air freshener.

But anyway, I tore through the vigorous growers before leaving with a little help from Jason and I touched up the 4 yr old vines too that are pushing blossoms out of every place imaginable before packing a simple bag of basics and a swim suit and a towel and headed to the beach. As a parting token, my sister let me borrow her husband's GPS TomTom. I always thought I would hate having one but I now not-so-secretly LOVE it. During the 12 hour car ride, playing with my new best friend, I programmed our friendly god of directions to steer us towards any vineyards and wineries in our path. We went down through the dreadful Pennsylvania turnpike, through DC at midnight before stopping for a power break and then plowed straight down to NC. We passed a vineyard when the beach was so close our nostrils were full of sea air, so we didn't stop. I just hung out the window and gawked at their perfectly manicured vines and angled trellis setup that complimented the highway perfectly.

On the way back, however, we took the road through Virginia wine country. Holy crap. It was amazing. We drove by quite a few with the same reaction of me hanging out the window for a roadside inspection of their trellises and how they deal with weeds around the trunks. After every exit had at least two or three vineyards, Jason convinced me to stop at Keswick Vineyard by letting me know that it was ok that we looked very raggled from riding in the car for hours on end after one last ocean swim in the early morning.


The lane going up to the winery winded down a path and up a hill with the same angled appeal that so many had. I saw one guy in the entire vineyard driving a little tractor around and thought that must be what I look like so many days out there on my own.
There was a giant southern mansion that looked like every picture of a southern mansion I had ever seen. The tasting room was off to the right, through a rose arbor, passed the perfect lawns with hydrangeas, english ivy, and every other prim and proper garden flower. The courtyard looked like a golf green with not a weed on it and trimmed with the criss cross pattern that the bored guy up the street does to make his lawn look pristine.

The inside seemed a bit rustic but classy, except for the fake grapes hanging from a built in arbor above the bar that made me laugh. There were people in every nook and outside on the lawns on picnic blankets, well placed park benches, and little verandas, all with a bottle of wine between them and rosy wine laden cheeks.

Our server treated us in a well mannered way before giving us a booklet on their history, their wine selection, and a notes section to write down what we thought of the wines. My favorite part was the way the tasting was laid out - $5 for 5 wines and she came over and gave us a full history of the wines, which grapes were used, how they were aged, and any other interesting bits of information. I still can't get used to the whole spittoon thing so I just hoped it wasn't too uncouth to just swallow it. There were oyster crackers to clear the pallet.
They only had one type of grape that we grow, the Cab Franc, and we grow it with great difficulty. It was mixed with other grapes so I couldn't really taste the difference.

I think a lot of my enjoyment of it was that our server told us what we were going to taste - i.e. light and floral or a rich oak aftertaste and whatnot, not that I could really taste any of those things, but more that it gave me the opportunity to nod my head and say - why yes, what floral after tones and light notes of blah blah blah.

Being as how Jason wasn't wearing a white polo and loafers and I didn't look like I fell out of a golf magazine, we quickly decided on a bottle to take home and high tailed it out of there.

There was almost a sigh of relief at hitting West Virginia when all the blue attraction signs on the highway went from tempting vineyards to antique emporiums... thereby ensuring that we would make it home in a timely fashion.


I think the real culture shock happened on Monday when after coming back from perfect Virginia, I found the grass in my little Ohio vineyard to be up to my knees, the thistles up in full effect, and all the little arms of my eager elementary students to be all raised high in the sky.