Lewsi Winery: uncompromising yet friendly

In recent weeks I have had a chance to spend some time with Lewsi wines by Ken and Patty Lewis. Lewsi Winery, which they named by transposing the last two letters of their name, just for fun, is located about 15 miles west from Branson on Missouri 76, then left on Missouri Y and right on Long Bend Road.

Ken takes an approach to winemaking that you don't see very often: uncompromising. Or at least more or less uncompromising. He sticks to his policy of no sweetening, just getting what the grapes give him — but he presents his point of view, and his wines, in a friendly way.

A good example of his approach is Virgin Bluff Red, a blend of Chambourcin and catawba that tastes like a semisweet wine but actually is bone dry. I wrote about this wine a few months ago, but I have since tasted others.

Virgin Bluff White (Elvira): Until recently, I had neither tasted nor heard of this grape, but it's a triumph of mid-American winemaking with a nonstandard variety. Juicy with mellow citrus. 

Moonsong Blush (catawba): Most catawba is sweetened to some extent, but if you've ever wondered how a dry catawba might taste, this is it. I don't like heavily sweetened catawba, but a little sugar takes the edge off this grape's acidity. Confession: I have stirred a micro-dash of generic Splenda into each glass of Moonsong Blush I drink, with really satisfying results. 
 
Reeds Spring Red (Chambourcin): The incredible nose and spice of this grape is fully realized. I've tasted Chambourcins (including my own) that soften that spiciness, but Ken embraces it. I ate a piece of Lindt chili dark chocolate with this wine. The muted heat of the chocolate lingered along with the spice of the wine, creating a pleasant accommodation.

Ozark Velvet (Frontenac): This Frontenac reminds me of unoaked Norton, but softer. It's weird to realize that this wine probably has been made without tweaking or sweetening, yet the result is rich and soft — nothing unruly here. This result must be the true flavor profile of the grape. What other way would Ken make it?

Another Norton note

This passage is from The Wild Vine by Todd Kliman, whose research into the history of the Norton grape brought him to Stone Hill winery. Kliman relates tasting notes from a dinner with Stone Hill executive Jon Held that included special aged Norton:

The food is good; the wine is even better. His Norton is everything I love in a red wine: It is complex and expressive, with a strong, identifiable character that only being bound so intimately and rigorously to a specific time and place can produce. It tastes like nothing else in the world, except perhaps another Norton. There is the wild earthiness I love, which seems to conceal within it a hundred unknowable mysteries, but it changes over time as we drink it, a living, breathing thing that opens up like a flower to become softer, more supple — a more subtle and interesting wine. (Page 187 of the 2010 paperback version)

Almost as good as Maya's wine-loving speech in Sideways, but lacking her bold finish.

The Stone Hill Norton that I enjoyed recently was a 2008 and not yet quite that heavenly.

Lewsi's wine that tastes sweet but isn't

Winemakers often stake out positions on craft based on principles that are difficult for bystanders to understand. I have heard vintners say they will make only red wines, or they will never use oak to age wines. Ken Lewis of Lewsi Winery west of Branson says he refuses to sweeten his wines before or after completion of fermentation.

As an amateur winemaker, I have learned that the addition of 1 percent sugar will soften and balance the acid in the wine I make form St. Vincent grapes that grow in the back yard. So, I don't understand why Ken insists on refraining from all sweetening measures.

In any case, Ken says his goal is to rely on the resources of the grapes to achieve appealing results, and he has succeeded on his own terms. Last weekend, I had a chance to reacquaint myself with one of his wines that I now understand is a standout example of his approach.

Lewsi's Virgin Bluff Red, a blend of Chambourcin and catawba, may suggest a semisweet wine, but it's not at all sweet in terms of added sugar. Instead, the assertive fruit of the catawba, probably left on the skins an extra day or two, creates the sweet effect.

I usually don't go for sweet wines, but I like Virgin Bluff Red. And no wonder — it's not sweet.

Going overboard over Norton

After enjoying the uncompromising qualities of Lindwedel's Norton a few weeks ago, I tasted some 2008 Stone Hill Norton. The astonishingly deep inky color and viscosity blew me away. The flavors were balanced and smoothed into a velvety richness that you wouldn't expect from a California Cab from the same year. Really a worthy accomplishment.

However, I think Stone Hill missed the whole point of Norton. The Lindwedel Norton's massive spice is the birthright of the grape that a Virginia landowner named Norton developed the early 1800s, inspired by Thomas Jefferson's repeat failed attempts to propagate a native North American grape that could rival the wines of Europe. When the spice of Lindwedel's Norton hits your tongue, you are transported nearly two centuries into the past.

By the way, Lindwedel is not the only winery that achieves this transmutation. Native Stone and Baltimore Bend also achieve these results.

In any case, I really enjoyed the Stone Hill Norton, and I discovered that Norton can be paired with many different kinds of food due to the spice. A Cab will go with steak or lamb, but a Norton can also pair with chicken or tofu with spinach and red kidney beans seasoned with cardamom and hot peppers. 

By the way, the references to the 19th century come from my reading of The Wild Vine by Todd Kliman, an experiential history of the Norton grape.

Grape vines go crazy

More buds, more foliage this year.

  

After all the 100-degree days last summer, I expected our St. Vincent vines to show stress this year. Instead, nearly all plants are producing more buds than ever, and the foliage that shot out in the late-winter warmth is making the vines shaggier this year in mid-April than they were last year in mid-May.

Even one of the two sad vines on the east end of the row has come up with a couple of buds. If a good portion of the buds turn into grape clusters, I'd say we'll have a harvest of twice the quantity this year.

Last year, I followed the advice of a pal who recommended thinning the number of clusters to about 10 per vine to avoid stress that would reduce the yield in the next year. I thinned all but one plant. This year, that undisturbed vine has more buds than than the others that were thinned, so I'm doubting the value of the practice.

This year, I may go for maximum yield, come what may.

This year's foliage in mid-April is bushier than last year's in mid-May.

Stone Hill Vidal

I bought a bottle of Stone Hill Vidal for $6 or $7. I've always liked this wine for its slightly fruity, slightly citrus effects, which are perfect for hot weather. However, after tasting many Vidals during our mid-Missouri wine tour, I realize that Stone Hill has subdued its Vidal in a bath of biochemistry that smooths it out into something like a California Sauvignon Blanc. In contrast, a real Missouri Vidal is slightly odd, a little too fruity, and more citrus than the polite sipper would want to tolerate. I'm not complaining; I'll eagerly go back for more. But it's not a real Missouri Vidal.

No Grey Bear exists except as a winery, but for how long?

"People seek out wineries. We're a target market," says Marschall Fansler.

In a recent winery tour through central Missouri, we stopped at Grey Bear Winery in Stover, owned by David and Marschall Fansler.

Marschall said her husband, who studied viticulture and oenology at University of California at Davis, makes wine with a consumer-friendly goal: “soft and drinkable now.”

Their location in well off the main highways of U.S. 65 and U.S. 54 in Morgan County does not bother them, she said. "People seek out wineries. We're a target market."

The highlight of the tasting was Smoke Mountain, a Norton with a touch of Cabernet. It flashed the typical Norton spiciness that was slightly softened, perhaps due to the Cabernet.

The Fanslers moved the winery David started in 1993, Rocky Hill, from Montrose, Colo., to Stover, Mo., in 2003 and opened Grey Bear in 2005. They were looking for a more business-friendly environment for expansion, according to the Grey Bear website. There’s no such thing as a gray bear, Marschall acknowledged; the color in the winery’s name is just for fun. But the bear part of the name refers to the powerful force the animal represents in Navajo myth, she said.

The Fanslers still buy some grapes from Western regions and have just about run out of reserves from the Rocky Hill operation. On the four acres at Grey Bear, they grow Marechal Foch, Vignoles, Chambourcin, Concord, Seyval, and a Cabernet-native root stock hybrid.

Due to David’s recent health problems, the Fanslers want to sell the winery and retire. In addition to the vines and equipment, the property includes a residence and a winery-brewery-restaurant building in a distinctive round design, shown below. The structure consists of 20 panels each eight feet long, their website says. The structure is designed to withstand hurricane force winds, but the effect is to create a large open interior space.

Interested? Call the Fanslers at 573-377-4269 or gbv@windstream.net.