Grape Expectations by Caro Feely, Caro Read Free Book Online Page B

appealing the following morning when we all got up to participate in our first ever hand-harvest of 'sassy' dessert wine.
    Â Â We arrived at the Barses', the family that had hosted us at their B&B. Their ancient uncle was in the winery and didn't recognise us. When we'd stayed in the B&B we visited his half of the Barse house, which was like stepping back in time. Medieval cobbles on the floor were cracked and worn from centuries of use and, opposite the door, a huge fireplace with hooks and pots hanging over it was still in use as the primary cooking facility. He greeted us warily and escorted us to where the extended family was picking grapes. To him, after a lifetime of working this vineyard, anyone offering to help hand-harvest for fun was regarded with suspicion.
    Â Â Sun filtered through the vines highlighting pickers in a honeyed haze. Mist, part of the secret of the unique Saussignac botrytis which creates these sweet wines from heaven, was painted in golden airbrush strokes over the scene. All was quiet save for a few bird calls and chatter between pickers. Bernard greeted us warmly and gave us a succinct lesson which I endeavoured to translate as succinctly for our friends. He handed round harvest secateurs and baskets with a brief warning about taking care. A few minutes later he passed by my basket and removed a bunch whose botrytis was less developed than the rest. Without saying a word he had set the level for me.
    Â Â Cillian quickly copped on, removing grapes that were a bit green or the ones that had gone too far. Juliette nicked her finger but after a plaster and a kiss was back picking more eagerly than before. The magic and excitement of harvest time spread a unique energy through us. Even Sophia gathered some bunches, while Ellie looked on from her all-terrain buggy. ' Les enfants are often the best at picking Saussignac,' said Myriam. 'Their senses are much finer than ours.' Back in the chai , Bernard passed round cups of juice as it came out of the press. It was thick as honey and as sweet but with layers of flavour: apricot, almond and orange. Standing in the winery surrounded by the noises and smells of harvest I felt joy and excitement mingled with a little fear. Making wine, for all the hard work, created a deep resonance inside me. I was spellbound. We had witnessed our first harvest of the miraculous Saussignac wine.

    When the O'Briens left, we tackled the Christmas sales campaign with vigour. It seemed impossible but within a few weeks Sean had provisional approval from the authorities, our labels ready to print and a shipper lined up.
    Â Â We sent personal emails to our friends and former colleagues, not expecting to sell more than twenty cases. We watched the orders come in through our new website with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. We passed the twenty-case mark overnight. By the deadline we had 115 orders and more promised including an order for corporate Christmas gifts from a close friend.
    Â Â Sean contacted the shipper to let them know we would be sending three pallets. He emailed back to say the customs official would not accept the shipment. We were horrified. The official had given Sean the go-ahead as long as we prepaid the taxes before the shipment left our property. What had gone wrong? Sean called our customs contact on the speaker phone.
    Â Â 'We gave you the go-ahead for this delivery because it was a shipment to friends, not 1,800 bottles,' said the official.
    Â Â I felt a rush of nausea but Sean remained calm.
    Â Â 'You are right. When I spoke to you I estimated three to six hundred bottles, which was what we were expecting, but we have been amazed at the response.'
    Â Â 'Are you sure this was an email offer to friends? You didn't have any advertising in a newspaper or magazine?'
    Â Â 'No, this was an email to friends and colleagues.'
    Â Â 'We'll let you do it this time,' he said. 'For next time you will have to have