Thanks for allowing me to join as a member of your group. I started making wine in France in 1960 when I was 9 years old. Now, I've been doing it a lot and hope to become a useful member of your Forums. Thanks again!
Thanks for the invite!
- Thread starter Ace
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Welcome to WMT!
Welcome aboard!
Welcome. New ideas and experiences are always good… especially from someone with a lifetime of experience.
Welcome to WMT!
welcome to Wine Making Talk
A lot of food systems has been learning what works from grandma, and the backwards engineering rules to explain how so.
A lot of food systems has been learning what works from grandma, and the backwards engineering rules to explain how so.
Wait, no one asked me! Well, if BigDaveK is okay with your membership then I guess that I am too. Welcome. You should write some about your experiences with wine making as a youth in France.
Anyone who makes wine is A-OK in my book! Bonus points for smoking a pipe, liking cats (or all animals), and having a ponytail.
Welcome aboard, I look forward to you sharing some of that experience.
Today, I'm racking Italian Tuscan Red Wine and Italian Soave Classico at my hobby winery on my property in Northwest Pennsylvania. I will write about my French experiences in brief stories. My father was a Forward Observer for the Field Artillery during WWII. My mothers family were members of the French Resistance. They met, fell in love, then 5 years later I was born. More to come...
Then in 1960 when I was 9 years old, my mother, my 6 year old brother and I were given the chance to go to the South of France for five weeks. We went. It was a culture shock since we only new a little French, but my mother was fluent and we caught on quickly. Anyway, one of my adventures was traveling to Contes to visit family for awhile. One of my favorite jobs was to go to the vineyard with my Uncle Charlie and his burro. On both sides of the burro were large rough wicker baskets that we placed our harvested grapes in. Uncle Charlie was a WWI vet who was wounded in the stomach and as a result walked stooped over. So I was to place the cut bunches he left at the base of selected vines into the baskets. Once completed my second job was to help him irrigate chosen rows of vines very slightly. I was the gateman holding back the water while he scratched a shallow furrow along the chosen vines. He'd yell "Oui" when he wanted water and "Non" when I was to close the gate. That worked OK for awhile until he saw me drinking some of the water. I never saw anyone hobble that fast. He kept saying "Non, non' non". I was confused and pointed to the closed gate. He pointed at the water shaking his finger. Through a cartoonish acting-out in gestures, I realized I wasn't to drink the water because, I found out later, it spread polio and it made people sick. So I tried to tell him I was thirsty by pretending drinking from a glass. His eyes lit up, held up a finger as he hobbled back to the burro. He returned with a wine skin over his shoulder and proudly uncapped it and indicated I was to drink. It was my first taste of wine. I loved it and, as the day got hotter, it wouldn't be my last. You can probably figure out what happened then because I can't remember. I woke up in a bed in my Aunt Tantine's bedroom in Nice with people gathered all around the bed. Boy, they were sure mad at Uncle Charlie, I had a beaut of a headache but next time I got my own brand new wineskin....filled with bottled water.
