You can't hear it, but I certainly can. That's the sound of six gallons of syrah being drained down the kitchen sink. More specifically, six gallons of home-fermented 2010 Wall-Walla syrah that presents a great bouquet, but is followed by a discordant and impressively funky flavor.
I'm a little sad that it didn't turn out as planned. There goes a few hundred dollars, hours of labor, and not a small amount of my wife's patience. That said, I'm still proud of my efforts and apprenticeship in the basics of oenology. Now when we visit wineries I'm less mystified by winemakers. Heck, I almost feel a little clubby when talking techniques. Fortuantely I remain in awe of their professional and artistic abilities and don't get ahead of myself. Perhaps more so of those fine souls who produce exceptional bottles time and time again.
If there's a next time I'll be more aggressive in fighting contamination (I might have skimped on the sulfites). I'll also be inviting the grapes to ferment in a basement that I have 100% control over. Alas the life of a condo owner, having to fight with neighbors over the use, configuration, and cleanliness of the forgotten corners of the building. During the hottest months of the year I snuck my syrah into a dark corner of the bike storage room, right behind an old chimney, and I believe a nearby water leak invited mold to take root on the stopper of the carboy. I tried to clean if off and resterilize everything, but the damage may have been done. Ah well. As in all things, one must look to the next harvest and learn from the past.
