| Trampled under
foot is not only the title of a Led Zeppelin song, it is also the definition
of the French verb marchier, from which we get the word marc-the
term for the by-product from grape crushing. Given that 100 kilograms of grapevine
produces 20-25 kilograms of marc, what can be done with such an enormous amount
of this waste? I asked Bill Gipson, the owner of the Pheasant Ridge winery outside
of Lubbock what
his group does with all of the marc from their productions. His response illustrated
the prevailing sentiment. “I really don’t know, “ he stated and then directed
me to ask Manuel Lechuga, the winery’s manager. Later, I asked Michel Duforat,
the general manager of the Ste. Genevieve winery the same question. Duforat stated
that their winery gives as much as possible to local sportsmen for deer feed,
adding that, “the wild turkeys and dove love it!” However, Duforat is referring
only to white marc or, that debris that is the residue from white grapes. The
red contains alcohol since the pomace (the resulting product after grape crushing
consisting of the pulp, skins, etc.) is produced only after fermentation. Whatever
is not used as deer feed, the winery distributes as fertilizer among the vineyard,
a process employed by just about everyone.
Recently, I read that there
is a company in the Mid-West that is collecting marc and pomace from area wineries
and, after drying the stuff out, is pressing it into pellets to be used as a heating
source. American ingenuity as its finest. (If only it could be liquefied and used
in our cars!). Traditionally, marc and pomace have been pressed a second time
and used in making all of those brandies and liqueurs that the wine-producing
countries of the world are so famous for, e.g. Grappa in Italy, Ouzo in Greece.
However, in this country, where brandy and liqueurs are not as well received,
the marc has become an enormous problem, literally mounting up by the tons each
harvest season. And, a second pressing only further utilizes the existing produce-it
does nothing to eliminate the stuff. Nevertheless, the accumulation of debris
in mountainous heaps is not an uncommon problem; men have been trying to deal
with the waste of their efforts since antiquity.
A few years ago while
in Greece we visited the remains of an ancient silver mine. Then, as now, Greece,
like Israel, was a major producer of silver. In fact, it was with the Athenian’s
silver surplus that Themistocles, in 483 BC, had 200 triremes built to evacuate
the citizens of Athens and avoid the pursuit of the Persian king Xerxes. (Themistocles
had to beg the Athenians to use the money to save their own lives but that is
another tale.) The mine was in many ways the same as it had been two and a half
millennia ago. The ore hoppers and waterways were still clearly visible as were
the chimneys and flues. What was also visible, off to the south end of the site,
was an enormous mound of black rock, probably 30 feet in height. The pile was
the remnant of the waste rock from the ore production, still waiting for proper
disposal after all these years.
The first century Roman writer Lucius
Columella, in his De Re Rustica, About Country Things, tells us that marc
is the perfect feed for those hens that have ceased producing eggs. It was his
opinion that the red marc in particular, with its alcohol content, would heal
whatever depression had afflicted the hens and that after ingesting the marc they
would, having had a little nip, feel up to laying eggs again. Who knows if this
would work or did? Might be worth a try if you can locate a chicken psychologist.
Whatever the method, adequate marc disposal is becoming increasingly necessary
as the demand for Texas wines increases and the acreage needed to produce sufficient
numbers of grapes grows along with it. Maybe we should diagnose the melancholic
hens of the country and get the omelet pans ready.
Copyright Byron
Browne
Notes From Over
Here
July 1, 2009 Column
Byron Browne can be reached at Byron.Browne@gmail.com |
