Making Wine in 2025

Writing a resolution, setting an intention, or whatever you want to call it.

Perks of early mornings at the winery

I want to make wine. There, I said it.

If you have talked to me in the past year, you’re probably rolling your eyes. Duh, I want to make wine. That has been obvious for a while, but saying it out loud is a big step for me. I literally gasped when I heard a friend refer to me as an “aspiring winemaker.”

It’s scary to find something you want to do. It’s even scarier when you have no freaking clue where to start.

When I started writing this Substack, my goal was to write the kind of stories that I enjoy reading about a topic that I’m passionate about: winemaking in North Carolina and the Southeast. I intend to keep doing that, and, at the same time, I have realized that I am incapable of simply observing and reporting.

Again, I should have known this was the inevitable path my journey would take. I ask a million questions, and if something captivates me, I want to try it myself.

Sometimes I feel like a toddler. I’m constantly asking “Why?” and insisting “Let me do it.”

My penchant for being in the action over being in the audience is the same reason I love to play sports but rarely watch them. I can sit for about 15 minutes of a basketball game before I’m itching to go outside and shoot around.

This is where I find myself today. I have looked at wine from many directions. I passed my Certified Specialist of Wine (CSW) exam. I work in a tasting room selling wine, and I write about wine. But by far the most energizing and exciting days I’ve had on my wine journey are those when I’ve actually helped make wine.

Whether I was pruning vines or foot treading grapes or working the press or disgorging sparkling wine or bottling or cleaning off the crush pad at sunrise (see video below), I have loved it all.

I love the physical nature of the work. There is a lot of lifting, pushing, raking, scrubbing, and stomping. At Addison Farms, we process our grapes outside, and we get an early start to avoid (most) of the yellow jackets that are drawn to the smell of sugary grapes. Inevitably, you’re covered in juice by the end of the day. Your fingernails just stay dirty — no matter how much you try to clean them. After processing, there is still more stirring, punching down, stacking, pressing, and racking. Sometimes at odd hours.

I love that winemaking really is both an art and a science. It’s a little cliché to say, but it’s true in this case. I think most people perceive winemaking as more of an art. It’s a little metaphysical to turn a grape that tastes like a grape into an alcoholic beverage that tastes like sour cherries and orange peel and tobacco leaves. As I’ve gotten closer to the process, I started seeing all the science that goes into it. You’re measuring pH and Brix and choosing strains of yeast with names like EC1118 (sometimes… more on that in a minute). Now, having dipped my toe in, I see it is equal parts creative and technical.

Winemakers have so many creative choices to make. For example, do you want to use a commercial yeast like EC1118 or let the native yeast have a go at fermentation? Using commercial yeast offers more control. Spontaneous fermentation is riskier but can lead to more complex and transcendent flavors.

Chambourcin grapes pre-crush

Wine makers are making these creative decisions through every step of the process — from what grapes to use to when to harvest them, all the way to how long the wine sits in the bottle before releasing it. And each of these choices changes the final product.

Then on the technical side, you’re dealing with both the perceptible and imperceptible. The perceptible sensory cues — how the wine looks, smells, and tastes — are constantly changing according to the behaviors of imperceptible microorganisms. There is frequent testing and adjusting and careful calibration to track the wine’s progress and nudge the invisible factors in your preferred direction.

Chambourcin (or maybe Cab Franc?) grapes post-crush

Which leads me to the final thing I love: the cleaning. I’m sort of kidding, sort of not. A common joke is that winemaking is 99% janitorial, but I genuinely don’t mind it. While I’m not a neat freak at home, I can be obsessive about sanitation and organization when there is a clear goal. I just pop on a podcast, grab the pressure washer, and go to town.

I know some of that will eventually get old, but even liking these tasks half as much would still be infinitely more enjoyment than I’ve gotten from other jobs. And this is the year I’ll test this theory. Call it a resolution or an intention or a goal: I am stating aloud my plan to make something — whether that’s actually joining a production team (ideal) or making a carboy of cider in my basement (less ideal but still satisfies the requirement).

I’m open to any and all suggestions and encouragement as I figure out what’s next. Thanks for following my journey so far.