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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
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