Fruitful efforts
BY SAM PFEIFLE
Most avid travelers would agree that one of the great pleasures of the pursuit comes from sampling the local fare. If there is an art to traveling it is evinced by an ability to quickly become comfortable in a new locale: eating, drinking, living, sleeping as the locals do.
Unfortunately, I don’t like eating all that much. I find bread and cheese just about everywhere and rarely venture far from my comfort foods no matter where I am. Thus, I’ve become a great fan of obscure and unique alcohols.
In Greece, you’ve got to sample the local ouzo. In Rome, try the grappa. In London, a good cask-conditioned, room-temperature ale is a must. What people get liquored-up on is a great barometer for the culture — the fact that I found moonshine in great abundance in Kentucky is all you really need to know about Hyden and Hazard counties.
Therefore, I’m rather angry with myself for just recently getting around to exploring my home state’s homegrown booze. Of course, I’m quite familiar with Maine’s copious micro-brews, but that takes fairly little effort. There are great things like next month’s Maine Brewers’ Fest to highlight their existence, and just about every convenience store has Shipyard, Gritty’s, Allagash, and more for the asking.
No, what I’m just catching on to is the burgeoning crop of Maine-made wines, both those traditional varieties made with grapes, and the even-more-traditional varieties made with apples, strawberries, honey, dandelions, and just about anything else with a sugar content.
It was this very "Homegrown" section that got me started last year, actually, when I thought it would be a good idea to try out that Blacksmiths Winery I had passed on the way to Bray’s Brewpub, on Route 302. There I was introduced to their blueberry wine, a mixture of 75 percent blueberries and 25 percent Riesling grapes. It’s great stuff. I bought a case of it and gave everybody a bottle for Christmas.
This year, I started poking around and found that fruit wines are pretty much the staple of the Maine wine industry (well, if you can call a half-dozen wineries an industry). Since the growing season’s so quick around here, grapes don’t necessarily do that well. Only the Cellardoor Winery in Lincolnville ((207) 763-4478) is currently selling wine they made from their own grape crop, and I couldn’t find a bottle local to Portland. It seems like a good trip, though. Cellardoor doubles as a great picnic spot, and their grounds look to be tremendous.
I did, however, get my hands on some varieties by three other locals (that being a relative term — some of these wineries are far afield from Portland):
• Mead Wine, Bartlett Winery, Gouldsboro, (207) 546-2408: The oldest winery in Maine, Bartlett has a wide range of options, and refined, understated labels. The Mead Wine (dry) has the color and odor of a chardonnay, and should be served chilled. It’s much sweeter than most white wines, however, and there’s no missing the flavor of the wild blossom honey from which the alcohol is fermented — but it’s not so sweet as to be a dessert wine. Also, the texture seems to cling to your mouth, giving it some body.
• Cider, The Sow’s Ear, Brooksville, (207) 326-4649: Don’t be fooled by commercial hard ciders you get in bars, this cider has far more distinction and intrigue, though the label is playful in a Charlotte’s Web sort of way. With a delivery like a Sweet Tart, it first overwhelms you with taste, then finishes like a Granny Smith. One staffer commented, "Woodchuck Cider is like apple-flavored beer. This is cider." It’s "fermented slowly at cool temperatures in the cellar," so no yeasts or sugars are added, and if you keep this around for long enough, the alcohol content (at eight percent when purchased) will go up.
• The Flying Dutchman (blackberry wine with grape brandy), Winterport Winery, (207) 223-4500: A dessert wine, the Flying Dutchman is part of Winterport Winery’s tribute to their town’s rich seafaring history, and the wine is certainly rich, strong, and good for parings with dark chocolate cakes and stilton cheese. The blackberry will just about bowl you over with sweetness, and there’s no way you could drink much more than a small glass of this, but, if you were already buzzed on wine from dinner, this would be a fine finisher before bedtime.
All this fruit wine made me think of the grapes and choke cherries and blueberries in my own backyard. How hard could it be to make some of this myself? Not hard at all says Ed McDowell, of the Hop Shop, on Route 100 in Gray.
"You put it in a fermentation bucket of a sort, add some sugar and yeast, and let nature take its course," says McDowell. For cider, he recommends getting some unpasteurized fare from a local orchard — "look for the warning label," he says — then adding about two pounds of sugar for every gallon of cider, and some wine yeast, not the bread yeast you find at the supermarket.
"A good pack of yeast will do up to six gallons," he says, and you can ferment your brew for "as long as you have patience for, the process can take up to six months. A lot of people will throw in spices," he says, to give body to the flavor.
But, it’s not just cider, "with yeast and sugar, and some sort of flavoring, you can make wine out of anything," says McDowell, like "dandelion wine — it’s fabulous stuff. Come February there’s no better treat."
I like McDowell’s style. When asked his favorite, he says, "the next one."
Sam Pfeifle can be reached at spfeifle@phx.com
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