Partnership dispute
turns ugly in Niagara

Last week, news trickled across the Canadian border about a strange chain of events unfolding at Niagara boutique winery Alvento.

Wines in Niagara reported that the winery landed in court to resolve a partnership falling-out between its hands-on operators, Tuscan transplants Bruno and Elyane Moos, and their Quebec-based business partner, collector Morrie Neiss.

The court's Solomonic verdict: pass the knife, let's carve the baby. The judge ordered the winery sold to a third party to be named later (at a probable fire-sale price), with the feuding partners to divvy up the proceeds.

Booming demand and harvest shortfalls
push northern wineries to out-of-state suppliers

by Joel Goldberg

Spot the difference between those two bottles?

Both are 2010 Pinot Grigio, sold by Bowers Harbor Vineyards on Old Mission Peninsula. The label on the left affirms that most of the grapes grew in "Michigan, USA".

The bottle on the right carries no geographic designation. But it's made from grapes that grew in Washington State, according to a winery employee.

This isn't something Michigan winery owners or winemakers are eager to discuss. Most of them built reputations on a commitment to locally-sourced grapes, frequently grown in their own vineyards. But sharply rising customer demand and shaky weather that's hammered yields for two straight vintages have forced some northern Michigan wineries to adjust their business strategy, at least short-term.

The adjustment: they're now buying out-of-state grapes, juice and pre-made wines to augment shrunken in-state supplies.

At Old Mission's Brys Estate, long a strong proponent of estate-grown wines, operations manager Patrick Brys lays out the stark facts.

"We had two bad years back-to-back, 2009 and 2010," Brys said. "In 2010, the grapes were wonderful but the crop was down 40% because of a frost on Mother's Day."

An unusually cool summer the preceding year, in 2009, forced growers to reduce yields and left many wineries unable to ripen grapes sufficiently to make satisfactory wine, especially the later-harvested red varietals.

But if crop yields are down, demand is up -- way up. On Saturday, October 8, over 1000 tasters jammed Brys Estate for its annual Harvest Celebration, a 67% increase from last year. Patrick Brys called it "our most successful day ever."

The result?

"Last winter, we closed the tasting room doors from December 1 to April 1, because we didn't have wine to sell," Brys said. "No business can continue to do that."

Dan Berger, of Santa Rosa, California, is one of America's leading independent wine journalists. Head of California's Riverside International Wine Competiton and prime mover behind the Riesling Sweetness scale, he publishes the weekly Vintage Experiences newsletter.

He wrote this piece for that newsletter after judging at the Michigan Wine Competition. It's a must-read for anyone who wants to understand how a well-informed, objective outsider views Michigan wines and their position in the larger wine world. Reprinted by permission; the original can be viewed here. --JG

by Dan Berger

LANSING, Mich.--A lot can go through your mind when you’re judging regional wines, as I did this past Monday here. 

The Michigan Wine and Spirits competition has been staged for decades, and only in the last few years has the event displayed the sort of quality about which the wine makers here have been crowing for decades. 

The early praise wasn’t unwarranted. There were flashes of brilliance as long ago as the late ’90s, when I first visited. Former colleague and long-time friend Christopher Cook exposed me to Michigan’s vinous hospitality back then and I saw huge potential.

Problem was that almost none of this was available to the American public. Bottles could all have been labeled “Sold in Michigan only,” a horrid situation that exists to this day, exacerbated by the state’s antediluvian shipping regulations. Even if you know about the superb Rieslings, Pinot Gris and other wines, you’d have to travel to Michigan to get them.

Even then, finding them here is well nigh impossible. Michiganders routinely disparage Michigan wine.

Editor's note: Kalamazoo's Fred McTaggart originally wrote this appreciation of Leelanau Peninsula winemaker Bernie Rink for his blog, Artisan Wine on a Budget. I thought it deserved a wider audience. Photo courtesy of Sharon Kegerreis, Michigan Vine   -- JG

by Fred McTaggart

Little has changed since I last visited the Boskydel Vineyards tasting room. But that was 1984, and much has changed in Leelanau winemaking over the intervening 25 years.

Compared to the fancy, tourist-centered wineries just a few miles away, Boskydel comes across as quaint and rustic. It's a small room on the lower level of a white barn with a cement floor. A crude wooden counter holds eight bottles, open for tasting.

Owner and winemaker Bernie Rink, 83, is a bit stooped these days, and fights a tremor when he pours your samples. He is affectionately known as the "Wine Nazi" (after Seinfeld's "Soup Nazi") because he allows no nonsense on the premises. When more than eight people arrive in his tiny tasting room, he starts to shoo them away.