Chowder and biodynamic Sauvignon Blanc

When I parked in front of the Allan Scott winery yesterday there was only one other car in the gravel lot; a dirty gray Suzuki with a personalized plate that read 1NDULG. And then on a concrete wall separating the lot from the wineries restaurant, Twelve Trees, was the word ENJOY in foot-high letters. The gods—or maybe the Scotts—were trying to tell me something. So I did both: indulge and enjoy.

Allan and his family, all of whom work at the winery in one capacity or another, are a fascinating lot. Sitting out beneath one of those twelve trees in the beautifully landscaped outdoor garden, Allan poured me a touch of his Gewürztraminer, another one of those Marlborough aromatics. “This is Cathy’s (his wife) favorite varietal,” he said, “so I make it just for her.”

I’d met Catherine briefly when I came into the tasting room and asked the statuesque blond pouring tastes for visitors if any of the Scotts were around. “Well, I’m Catherine Scott,” she said, “but you’re probably not here to see me. Let me call around for Allan.”

Not only is Catherine in charge of the tasting room, or cellar door as they call it here, but the restaurant where I was to have lunch. She also does most of the bookkeeping.

“Sorry I can’t join you and Allan,” she said, racing off to the kitchen, “but there’s just too much going on at the moment.”

So I could see.

Anyway, Allan was found somewhere in the winery and soon showed up along with son Josh who, in addition to being a winemaker at the winery, owns a boutique brewery, Moa, where he makes a bottle-fermented beer (it seems to me that the one thing almost all winemakers have in common is a love of beer). Another daughter, Sara, who has been pushing her dad towards organic growing, also showed up midway through our lunch. Josh and Sara apologized for being a little grungy. “We’re both training for an upcoming triathlon,” Josh said (he also plays on a local rugby team).

I asked them if they grew up around here. “On the farm right across the street,” Josh said. I always think of a farm as being, well, you know, a farm, but to most winemakers that’s also what a vineyard is—a farm. And that’s what Josh meant when he said he and his sisters (the eldest sister, Victoria, who does the winery’s marketing, was off in New York) grew up on the farm across the street.

“We’re all farmers,” Allan said as our bowls of steaming seafood chowder arrived. “Catherine grew up on a farm. I grew up on a farm. When I was Josh’s age, I was a sheep shearer. Then we moved to Marlborough to open a nursery and grow trees. Somehow I ended up growing grapes instead of trees.”

Just as we were finishing up our soup, Catherine came out. “How was the chowder?” she asked.

“Delicious,” I told her. “Perfect with the Sauvignon Blanc.”

She smiled. “That’s my specialty,” she said. “The chowder, not the Sauvignon Blanc. That’s Sara’s baby.”

The Scotts bottle several different Sauvignon Blanc wines but the one we’d been tasting with Catherine’s chowder is called Millstone and comes from a vineyard that has been transformed to a total organic culture in which the vines are cultivated using biodynamic principles where chemical fertilizers are replaced with compost teas and other homeopathic preparations (some of which can be a bit bizarre; more on that at another time).

Anyway, the Millstone vineyard is a bit of an experimental plot but if things go well, the rest of the Scott wineyards may follow. Wouldn’t that be nice.