Because conditions were not ideal for setting a big crop during bloom, we have significant shatter and loose clusters. Without the demand of a large fruit set, the vines look very lush and are thriving, with shoot tips still active. And with lower ambient temperatures, water demand is lessened as well.

So far we’ve had no real heat spikes, just a warm weekend during the second week of June. Last year at this time, we had color in the vineyard after a heat spike earlier in July. This year the weather has been similar to the 2005 growing season, but with a small crop and more shot berries like 2007. I can see slightly different timing between the various blocks and, overall, the effects of virus are not as evident as in warmer years.

I saw just a touch of color in the grapes while walking the vineyard today. As veraison occurs over the next week or so, we’ll decide just how to thin this crop. Right now we’re trimming the canopy by hand so that we can be more discriminating about each vine rather than using just one setting as a tractor makes a pass.

We haven’t applied any irrigation in our Russian River vineyard, and very little in Carneros. I’m also seeing significant lignification – that is, green canes turning to wood – and that’s a good sign that maturation is occurring. The open clusters reduce our worries of Botrytis rot and we’re also seeing very few berries pushed out by tight clusters. In all, this vintage looks very good. So far, that is. The beauty of this business is that you can never truly predict the outcome. That keeps it interesting.

A few months ago, I was pleased to participate in a seminar on terroir at the Central Coast Wine Classic in Shell Beach, California. So I got to thinking about our site, perhaps just a little more than usual.

I was privileged to manage a lot of acreage, including what is now the Donum Ranch, for many years at Buena Vista. And for the last decade, I’ve had the ability to focus on Pinot Noir at Donum, T-budding our vines over to different clones and selections to see what fares best in our blocks. As it happens, one selection from the Alexander Valley has seemed to do especially well on our property, and it has become something of the soul of Donum.

As an industry, we’ve always talked about how wines from different appellations differ — how those made from Russian River vines compare with, say, Central Coast Pinot Noirs. Of course, even wines made from the same block can be manipulated in the cellar to negate the characteristics of site. Yet it seems undeniable that, because we all work with the same assortment of rootstocks, clones and selections, and we all employ the same tools in the vineyard and the winery, the real differences derive from site.

While the Burgundians had the experience of centuries to find combinations that work well, we have in a generation assembled rootstocks, clones, trellising, spacing, water management and cultural practices – all the elements necessary to evolve into the next generation of vineyards.

To truly match plant materials to sites takes so long, and even in California, we don’t replant that often. Yet the past decade has seen Pinot Noir move ahead by leaps and bounds here because we made the major shifts necessary and we now enjoy a track record of what works.

Ten years ago at Donum, we began with one wine in mind, a blend of clones and selections. But that chorus became a duet, and sometimes a solo. We learned to pay attention, noticing what was special in the vineyard and in the cellar. Now we have several Donum Pinots, each a unique and clear expression of the marriage of clone and place.

Undoubtedly, it’s a good thing that we have a whole year to contemplate what a vintage has taught us, to try to understand the dynamics of the vineyard. In the end, we must farm with intention, with the wine we want to make in mind. We must constantly read the season and ask, where are we and what should we do? All we do in touching our 120,000 vines is predicated on caring. And while Kenneth and I may get the credit, part of our terroir is our people, the guys who actually do the work, mindfully converting our intentions into reality. Our team is an integral part of this place, and we are grateful.

What is your definition of terroir?

Simply put, it’s all of the physical characteristics of a site. That includes soil, climate (including rainfall, wind and fog) and elements of topography like elevation, slope and exposure. Beyond those physical features, of course, your farming philosophy will also come into play.

What makes a potential vineyard site look promising?

Let’s assume you are in a cool climate region like Carneros appropriate for growing Pinot Noir.  When considering bare ground for a vineyard, you need a clear picture in mind of what constitutes a good vineyard, which, of course, derives from your education and experience. You have to know what you want from the site, then read the land to see if you have it.

You’re really looking for uniformity – similar soils and slopes that lend themselves to being worked as a single unit. You might, for example, observe the growth of cover grasses, noting either their natural evenness or lack thereof. You could take soil samples much as a doctor tests a patient for baselines such as height, weight, blood pressure and pulse rate. You may look deeper into the soil profile with a backhoe pit to discover the degree of soil uniformity, clay content, soil depth or the existence of hardpan.

Often your decision about the suitability of a site will relate to water – annual rainfall, water-holding capacity and drainage. If you’re in a low rainfall area, you may not need as much slope for drainage, or you may be fine farming on the flats, but not down in the swales.

Isn’t it true that Burgundian grand cru sites tend to be on slopes?

Yes, but it’s important to keep in mind that Burgundy and California comparisons are often “apples and oranges.” It is true that there, as here, the slopes are literally middle ground, hilltops are generally leaner, lower vigor areas while the ground at the base of slopes is wetter, siltier and thus, more vigorous. That’s a function of gravity, a constant in both regions. However, with drier growing seasons in California, the amount of slope is not as critical for good drainage.

What made you confident that your sites could yield “ultimate Pinot?”

First, I know them intimately. The Donum Estate comprises three vineyards: Donum Ranch (70 acres) and Ferguson Block (20 acres), adjacent to each other on the first hillsides rising off the bay in Carneros, and Nugent Vineyards (11 acres) in the Russian River Valley.

I have worked with Ferguson Block since 1981. I planted Donum Ranch beginning in 1989 and Nugent Vineyards in 1997. I walked the land until I knew how to lay out units with the goal of uniformity. And now having farmed those blocks all these years, I understand the nuances of how the ground responds.

Some feel that how you balance crop levels can adjust for variations in topography, but I prefer what I think is an easier, simpler approach — uniform units. On the other hand, this is commercial farming, so the units can’t be too small. One of our grand cru sites at the Donum Ranch is the 5.5-acre 4-90 block, source of our new vineyard designate called West Slope. To achieve uniformity on this block, for example, we chose to irrigate the top portion differently than the lower half of the slope.

Our rainy season is generally December through February, and we’ve already had quite a bit of rain this year. Sometimes rainfall ceases, and other years we may receive three to five inches or more in March and April. So we adjust and work with the season. In a wet year, we may mow our cover grasses and let them grow out again. In a drought year, we may incorporate them into the soil in every other row.

What are other methods you use to adjust to the season?

My vineyard team and I will touch each vine eight times during the growing season. Those operations are 1) pruning and tying, 2) first suckering, 3) trellis wire moving and shoot positioning, 4) lateral removal, 5) leaf removal, 6) weak shoot thinning, 7) green thinning and harvest.

Given that we have good ground and carefully tended vines, each of those operations is a tweak, a slight adjustment to the vintage. If we have difficult conditions during bloom and set and a resultant poor set and shatter, that will mean our green thinning will be different – maybe we’ll remove second crop.

If we have a wet year, we may make an extra pass to open the canopy more. If we have a heavy fruit set or wings on the clusters, we may have to manage the clusters so there is no fruit on fruit to prevent rot. Normally we start with ten-bud canes and about 28 to 30 clusters, and we end up with 18 to 20.

So do lower yields mean better quality?

In general, both in Burgundy and in California, lower yields equate with greater concentration in the fruit. We want balanced, evenly and completely ripened fruit. That means that clusters from weak shoots should have been suckered or shaded fruit removed, because they won’t provide the same, uniform composition. With better understanding of your site, the season and the wine you want to make, you will make better decisions.

Your title is “winegrower.” Are wines made in the vineyard?

Yes. The best wines are. Farming and winemaking need to be connected. They are part of the same continuum. Great fruit needs less manipulation so that the wine practically makes itself in the cellar with a minimal amount of shepherding.

One reason we consider this an “ultimate Pinot Noir” project is that there is one vision from pruning to bottling. By being totally estate grown from our three sources, we are heavy-handed on the vineyard side and we really do grow the wine. It’s no coincidence that our winemaker, Kenneth Juhasz, spends considerable time in the vineyards to observe, discuss and taste what we are doing.

The other key factor is doing it over time; we learn something more with each vintage.

All right, how do you drive terroir?

Here in California we have unique conditions in that our summers are dry. So water is the gas pedal. We have excellent tools to tell us what the moisture content is in the vine and in the soil. We can use water to trigger growth. We can offset heat spikes with water and cool the stressed vines. And in a cool season, we can back off. We can adjust to what the vintage gives us.

I prefer the lighter soil over the heavier clay because it’s easier. I can measure water use to manipulate the vines. I have less control in clay because cover crops can only take away so much water and nutrients, and rainfall varies from winter to winter.

As for terrain, normally I’d say I prefer a slope for water drainage. A slope naturally creates more diversity, even within a row, because the soil and water content varies on the top, middle and bottom. You can achieve more homogeneity on the flats. It depends upon whether you want your chorus to sing one pure, strong note or a more complex harmony.

Incidentally, 4A01 is fairly flat but well-drained whereas 490 lies on a warm western slope.

Ferguson 4A01 block works for us because it has good plant material (old Martini clone on St. George rootstock) and self-limiting vine age (30 years). We understand how to farm it.

Donum 490 vines are younger (17 years) and the thick-skinned Roederer clone needs more heat to ripen, almost like Syrah, so that hillside western exposure is beneficial. The clay soils produce more vegetative growth, so we open up the canopies more. Irrigation becomes a tool only later in the season when the soil finally dries up.

Certainly, terroir consists of the land and its climate. It’s arguable whether plant material choices, farming and even winemaking philosophies are part of terroir, because they can also over-power the potential of the site. As Kenneth says, people tend to “interpret” terroir. And that can bring it forth or erase it.

For me, ideal terroir is balanced. Occasionally, it happens naturally, and that is something very special. Most times even very good sites require some manipulation and trial and error to bring them into balance. The challenge for us is to balance the vineyard without overlaying its individual character, its terroir.

There are several ways to define terroir. The site, or place, consists of the ground and the climate. Let’s include features like elevation and exposure in the general category of soil. Then we include elements such as temperature, rainfall, fog and wind under climate. That’s what nature gives us.

We must deal with the soil’s water-holding capacity, because the ability to provide just enough water when needed is a vital viticultural tool. And the land must be less than abundant, not overly fertile, so that it provides restrictions or limitations on the grapevine’s growth. You can add something that’s missing to soil, but you can’t take away what’s there.

Restricted water or nutrients prevents over-vegetative growth. Limitations create character in the wine. You can taste the vine’s effort, whether its roots must go deep in rocky soils or are restricted by shallow soils.

The grower can add two elements to the equation – plant materials and farming practices. Our job is to learn to choose better plant materials to match the site we’re given, then farm it appropriately from vintage to vintage.

Some say rocky soils give us tannins. Others say dense clays impart structure. They’re probably both right.

We know that nitrogen gives us vigor, phosphorus promotes color, potassium contributes to fruitfulness. And this magical process involving earth, rain and sun transforms flowers into berries into ripe grapes. Then another miraculous transformation produces a liquid which, in turn, transforms the human who consumes it.

In the healthiest of humans, well-conditioned athletes, the goal is “lean and mean.” It’s the same with our vines. We don’t like over-vegetative growth, nor do we want anemic, water-deprived plants that can’t ripen their fruit. As growers we drive that – it’s called balance. And if our approach is finely tuned, we can off-set vintage differences.

So we can’t really change the soil, or the climate. We can choose appropriate plant materials and attune our farming practices to tailor them to the site.

But I’ve come to realize that farming can’t necessarily make a lesser site into a really good one. In cooperative vintages, you can shift them to the better, like a student who flourishes with a good teacher in a given year.

The great sites can perform very well year in and year out. Our main job is properly matching what we plant and do on that site apropos to each vintage.

This isn’t unusual. If your garden doesn’t have full sun, you might want to plant an early ripening tomato that takes 76 days instead of an heirloom that needs 96. Similarly, if your Pinot Noir is planted closer to the coast where there’s a shorter season, you’d plant Dijon clones because they do better in cooler, riskier areas.

The longer we work with a site, the more site specific we become in our farming. That’s exciting – really understanding the components and the dynamics of the system. As an industry, as we sort out our plant materials and hone our farming to individual sites, quality will soar. Why are some growers successful repeatedly? Because they have good sites and know them well.

You can create wines from one place that seem like they are from any place.
Usually in warm vintages, very ripe grapes are the biggest culprit. For example, the 2003 Burgundies all taste very much the same.

To capture terroir, that has to be your goal. Often, at 26 degrees Brix and above, you will lose it. By cranking up the sugars and ripeness, you can negate the effects both of vintage and terroir.

Yes, I think soil is the major contributor to terroir (although terrain and climate play large roles as well), but I don’t think anyone knows exactly what the soil provides.

Are northern Burgundies mineral laden? Yes. But is it because of the limestone or the high acid and low pH? Do earthy, mushroom characters come from the soil? Certainly different characters come from different soils, but we don’t really know why.

Some say heavier clay soils make bigger Pinots. Others argue that lighter soils make bigger Pinots because they create less canopy, exposing fruit to sunlight.. Most winemakers would agree that soil is very important. But often when we see a vineyard before tasting wines made from it, we are surprised by those wines.

Other times you have just a sense, a memory triggered. You can’t define it, but you know it. Even when I’m right, I’m not sure why. I do taste more black fruit and structure from the clay soils of Nuit St. Georges, and red fruit, mineral and austerity in wines from limestone vineyards. But why remains a mystery.

While great Burgundies may come from the middle of the hillside, producers like Claude Dugat treats all his vineyards like grand cru sites. And he makes stunning village wines. I think he demonstrates that with excellent vineyard management, you can move sites up a quality notch, say from a B- to an A-.
But probably no more than that.

You could look at terroir as potential, and at vineyard management as the ability to extract what nature gives you. How many absolutes are there in life, anyway? Pi?