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'It's hard to say,' said our oenologist. 'It could take three years.'
'What? We can't wait three years!'
'Perhaps in six months it will be better.'
'It had better be,' I said bitterly taking another mouthful and spitting a long red jet into the
spittoon. My spitting technique was almost professional, a great improvement on my initial
attempts that left me covered in red splats after each tasting session. But our plan to bottle
in time for Christmas was scuppered. It was clear that even highly educated, experienced
oenologists could not accurately read young wine.
'What else can we do? We need to have some red wine ready for bottling soon.'
'If we age more of the wine in oak barrels it will round out the tannins and help to express
the finesse,' said Lucille.
Wine scientists are impervious to financial realities. We already had our top red wine in
barrels. Oak barrels cost around €700 new. We'd need at least ten to make any impact on
the volume of pure merlot we had. We'd have to find more second-hand ones. I spat tacks.
It would take time for us to be better judges of unfinished wine. For now we had to control
the panic that took hold each time we tasted an acidic monster in infancy. I called Pierre
and cancelled the October bottling. We had to tighten our belts and wait for March when
we would bottle the new whites that were still on the vines as well. At least the payment
for Dave's order had arrived. Sean began vat planning for the harvest. In a couple of weeks
it would be on us again. I felt a bolt of excitement and dread.
