Wine is made in winery and wineries exist all over the world and come in a variety of sizes. The grapes are grown at the wineries and then turned into wine and there are many varieties of grapes; each one either used either alone or combined to make different wines. But how exactly is white wine made?
To make a white wine, once grapes are brought to the winery they are de-stemmed and crushed before anything else is done. A machine is used to split the grapes to remove stems and stalks from each bunch because they contain astringent tannins, which might be acceptable for red wines, but are rare in whites. To stop the fermentation process from starting and turning the grapes brown and oxidizing (causing a vinegar type taste) a chemical called Sulphur Dioxide is added to the grapes. For those with allergies to Sulphur Dioxide, "sulphur-free" wine is produced as well, however the lifespan on this wine is much shorter and needs to be consumed quickly.
After the grapes are split and the stems have been removed, they are sent to be pressed. Pressing the grapes releases their juices. The press is a large machine that has a canvas like material that separates the juice from the skins and seeds by allowing the juice to escape. The separated juice is then pumped gently to another steel tank where the sediment is allowed to settle to the bottom before being transferred again. The now sediment free juice is either pumped into another steel tank (unwooded wines) or to wooden barrels (wooded wines) where the preferred yeast type is added and fermentation can begin. Fermentation of white wine can take 3 days or 30 days depending on the type of wine being produced.
For unwooded whites, once the fermentation process is over, the wine is removed from the steel tanks and separated from the dead yeast cells. Whites such as Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay are typically unwooded wines, however there are small exceptions. Rieslings in Europe can be made in wooden barrels, though the barrels usually have a crust of tartaric crystals (found in grapes and solidifies in their juices), which acts as a barrier preventing the oak flavor from being infused in the wine. Examples of oaked Sauvignon Blanc can be found in France, however the aging of unwooded Sauvignon Blanc in bottles produces a nutty toasted flavour as if it was stored in wood therefore it really is not necessary.
Why would someone want to produce an unwooded wine? The answer is simple, money. It is much cheaper to produce wine in large steel tanks, and the work required after fermentation is minimal allowing bottling and release to be quicker. This does not, however, mean unwooded wine is in any way inferior to wooded wine. It is simply a different process.
Wooded wines can often begin their fermentation in steel tanks before being transferred to oak barrels to finish fermenting, or they can have a second fermentation known as malolactic fermentation. A third option, barrel fermentation, is to simply ferment the wine once from start to finish in an oak barrel. Malolactic fermentation is the process in wine where malic acid begins to turn into lactic acid. This happens with the addition of bacteria, which in turn gives the wine buttery creamy characteristics. Wooded white wines are in barrels from six to twelve months before being filtered.
The next step in making white wine is filtration. The most common way commercial wineries filter their wine is with a membrane filter, which catches all the particles floating in the liquid. Some winemakers prefer not to filter at all thinking it will remove characters from the wine that were created in the winemaking process. After the wine has been filtered it is bottled and sealed and ready for marketing.
It all seems too easy, but it takes great skill. Climates need to be controlled, ingredients need to be accurately measured and timing needs to be perfect. Sometimes it is easy to forget that a bottle of wine can take so long to make and that patience is key. However, it is this patience and attention to detail that brings out the best in a bottle of wine.
The news has had alot to show about the demonstations regarding those who have crossed the border of the USA illegally. Now I am not a proponet of letting everyone in. Our nation simply cannot take all the worlds masses. I know many nations would not want to come here anyway. For the most part, however, the news has shown people gathering with placards and signs on this issue.
Many of those were Mexicans. I grew up with Mexicans, Indians, Spainards, and cowboys. I could point to many types of people in all groups. Some good, some bad. The mexicans, however, were usually in gangs in my home town. That is the young people had gangs. I'm sure the adults would of wanted no gangs. Being a white, we had our own gangs. We did alot of things that were not good. I'm not proud of those days.
The thing that stands out are some of the people. For this article I will speak of the mexicans I knew. The first time I knew what green stuff was, which looked like a gravy, I was asked "you want some of this over your huevos"? "Yea, sure", I replied, not knowing what it was. One bite later and I was in a greenish-yellowish nightmare of hot. Even today, I remember Mama Martinez's green chile that was put over my eggs. It was her son I ran around with. His name was Martin.
Then there is the time Ernie Montoya and his group were visited by myself and friend Martin Martinez. There was a stack of beer cans in the corner. These guys and gals had been partying for some time. It was daylight, on a school morning and we passed by their place on to school. After we entered, Martin left to do something, and that left me alone on the couch. Pretty soon Ernie came up and sat alongside. He had a beer can in one hand and a switch blade in the other. After a thump from plopping down hard, Ernie opened the blade and put it up against my throat. "what ya goin to do whitey"..smiled Ernie with a beer breath. I looked at him and said "nothing, nothing at all". Ernie burst out laughing and slapped me on the back.
I left this neck of the woods and moved to a city some hundred miles away. Over the next course of ten to fifteen years I was a Chef and manager in many restaurants. I came to know many illegals. In those days, they were the only help I could find. No one else wanted to work. I came to know them as hard working men and women. Most could not speak english very well. So I had to learn spanish. It was a broken work I had to speak this language. But overall I could communicate what I needed done. I never knew any of them to steal or drink on the job. Maybe I was just lucky. Those Mexicans I knew and worked with became a fabric with me.
I fondly remember the recipes I learned. Working with many mexican women, I would watch how they re-fry the pinto beans with bacon grease. As well, I would smell the pot of rice that just came out of the oven with spanish rice in it. From green chile to red chile and enchiladas and more, I tasted and cooked my way with many a mexican. When they first passed the law that required the mexicans to have cards, it hurt. We could not find anyone to help.
This puts me in a fond memory of one day on Interstate 80. I was Sous Chef at a very large Truck Stop. We did tremendous business. On staff were many mexicans, cooks, janitors, bussers, dishwashers, and the like. I was pouring out a large vat of prepped sauces when the word got around the Immigration people were pulling up. Those words are like a bomb going off. Before I knew it I was virtually alone in that huge kitchen. The enforcers came in. They looked at me in that large kitchen and took a look around the place. After a shrug of the shoulders they headed out back to see if they could catch up with all the mexicans that left in hurry. Out back was a large desert full of cactus and prarrie dogs. Miles and miles of it. After a number of hours my help returned. They hadn't caught them afterall. I was glad, too much work all by myself. If they had been caught, I usually would see them back on the job within two weeks. I don't know how they did it, but they always seemed to find a way back.
To this day I still have mexican friends who worked with me. They greet me whenever we see each other. Usually shopping. We all have grown older and the kids are raised now, but we are all legal. They smile and tell me how things are going as the realization that they now are legal americans. These whom I have met and worked with are genuine friends. I take it to heart when I think of them. I also have had mexican gangs who were evil and beat me up. But in this life there is bitter and the sweet. I have had the "sweetness" of friendship from across the border.
I relate all this to say, there has to be a solution to all this. I know we cannot take everyone in. It is also a reality that there are bad people who want to hurt us here. They don't care who we are mexican or white, yellow or pale. They want to kill us simply because we are a free country and we are americans. I have laughed heartily with many of my Mexican compadres and worked along side them. It with much gratitude to the Good Lord that I knew them. Too bad we have to have bad apples, hatred, and strife along the way..
I hope this helps you today to appreciate a friend, no matter where they are from...
Both Ken Finnigan & Dana Smith are contributors for EditorialToday. The above articles have been edited for relevancy and timeliness. All write-ups, reviews, tips and guides published by EditorialToday.com and its partners or affiliates are for informational purposes only. They should not be used for any legal or any other type of advice. We do not endorse any author, contributor, writer or article posted by our team.
Ken Finnigan has sinced written about articles on various topics from Culture, Food and Drink. Ken Finnigan is the CEO of a website specializing in quality decorative wine racks and durable wine storage systems.. Ken Finnigan's top article generates over 40500 views. to your Favourites.
Dana Smith has sinced written about articles on various topics from Religion, Religion and Education. Dana G Smith is a Writer, Author of the ,is the Watchman of