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chef

this is your life

Yesterday is a wrinkle on your forehead
Yesterday is a promise that you’ve broken
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes

This is your life

And today is all you’ve got now
And today is all you’ll ever have
Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes

This is your life
Are you who you are to be?
This is your life
Is it everything you dreamed that it would be?
When the world was younger
And you had everything to loose

Yesterday is cat in the corner
Yesterday is dead and over

And this is your life
Are you who you are to be?
This is your life
Is it everything you dreamed it would be?
When the world was younger
And you had everything to loose…

Don’t close your eyes
Don’t close your eyes

This is your life
Are you who you are to be?

everything

Find me here
And speak to me
I want to feel you
I need to hear you
You are the light
That’s leading me
To the place
Where I find peace again

You are the stick
That keeps me walking
You are the hope
That keeps me trusting
You are the light
To my soul
You are my purpose
You are everything

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
And you tell me how could it be
Any better than this

You calm the storms
And you give me rest
You held me in your hands
You are every fall
You still my heart
And you take breath away
Would you take me in
Take me deeper now

And how can I stand here with you
And not be moved by you
Would you tell me how could it be?
Any better that this

Cos you are all I want
You are all I need
You are everything
Everything

paris

"if you are lucky enough to have lived in paris as a young man then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you for paris is a movebale feast. "

these words were spoken by a "friend" of mine a very long time ago. in fact before i was born he spoke these words. and with this phrase playing in my soul as i headed off to paris. ah, paris. what a place.

i went to find a piece of myself. a piece of what i felt i have lost over the last few weeks with so many things happening around me. but i guess things never happen the way you plan them in fact it turned out to be more of a giving weekend. but i reckon i found also what i was looking for.

i left the south with the notion just to go switch off and enjoy the beauty and atmosphere of paris. it was perfect. this time of the year the colours and climate is close to perfection. autumn is after all my favourite season. so to wander down the streets and allowing the inside of the city to swallow me with its passion, its art, its people and just the buzz that hangs around in st. germain and other similar cartiers was the perfect medicine for a heavy spirit.

the gardens around the chateau de versailles was my first place of interest. i knew the garden had a reputation of transforming during the autumn and the spectcle of colours was awe inspiring. every colour you can imagine. shades of yellow, orange, red, browns. the enormity of the gardens are vast and you can not possibily see all of it. none the less. sitting there and watching the world walk by was a welcome relaxing experience in itself.

the rest of the time i spent walking all the funny and small backstreets that is called "the real paris." away from all the touristy traps and vendors crowding you. i spent a good deal of time in small galleries which are like boutique shopping malls filled with haute couture food, fashion and anything fabulously expensive. it was a treat to sit there sipping espresso and absorbing the heart of what makes a true parisienne. the walks down the river and between the different quaters was interesting to notice the changes between the various places. or stopping at shakespear and co to imagine papa hem hanging around and walking there where the books are stacked all the way to the roof. i had to buy a hem book. i just had too. no surprise that i bought another copy of "a moveable feast". this time signed and stamped. call it nostalgic. i call it adventure and respect for a place that has more to it than just what meets the eye.

but the most stricking thing was the atmosphere i felt walking the streets of paris. it was as if the city was sucking me in. showing me what makes its heart beat. away from all the usual cites. away from the everyday noise and pointing me in the direction of where the "real paris" happens.

and with this it makes perfect sense what papa hem said....it is a moveable feast indeed.

a tribute

This is a tribute to a dear friend that passed away recently.

A friend of few words but when he spoke the knowledge and wisdom would drip from every sentence. A friend that loved the outdoors and that have stood on some of the highest mountain summits in Africa. A friend that had more outdoor gadgets than an outdoor store. I remember one day visiting him at his home and him showing me all his gadgets. It took more than several hours. A friend that had different beliefs than me, but still we spoke for hours about everything from religion and evolution to wine and the joys of being “out there” in the wide open spaces. A friend that taught me to challenge the “status quo” of the wine industry and never to accept things. He told me endless stories and secrets of wine industry scandals in South Africa and I could listen to him speak for hours. We went on various business trips together. We have tasted together endless numbers of times. His opinion was one that I valued the most and he would be the first person I would phone for advice or an opinion. His love for tasting and wine was inspiring. His knowledge and feeling for this specific subject was incredible. I remember being at a tasting he hosted some years ago where he presented wines from Brazil and Uruguay. I was dumbstruck of his knowledge. His specific love for Burgundy and Pinot noir was signified by his collection of books of the region which must have counted into the thirties? But I think the most significant aspect of our friendship was the fact that he was the winemaker I worked with when I did my first harvest back in 2001. It was a nervous harvest for both of us, him having moved into the new position only recently and me being a student doing my first harvest. I remember that harvest with all its challenges as if it was yesterday and the uphill battle we fought that whole season. I never got to thank him for those precious days in 2001 and that will be something I might regret for a long time. But the memory of his dry humour, his floppy hairstyle and goofy appearance plus his love for wine and tasting will never be erased.

This one is for you my friend! To Louw Engelbrecht.......

endless summer #63 and final entry!

When you have had the opportunity to travel freely for three and a half months around Europe it seems strange to list your highlights, but I have decided to try anyways. Perhaps because just thinking about everything I have experienced makes it so much more real and memorable. Thanks to everyone than made every moment more memorable and special. I realised on my travels that its the PEOPLE in my life that makes it an unforgetable journey.

What a freakin life I have!!!!!!!!!

(Not in order of preference.)
drinking a wine from 1928 in the Loire
my initiation with Sauternes in the Loire
REVELATION #1
traveling with Nuno and Clara
RUNNING with the BULLS in PAMPLONA
drinking wines from Clara’s dad’s cellar
being lazy the Portuguese way
Portuguese seefood
meeting Nuno’s friends
my times of reflection on the trains of London
epic endless days of BLISS in SANTORINI
the sunsets in Greece
greek salad with REAL FETA
MasterCard days in London
lunch at Cascina Lana
rally driving in Italy
my insomnia in Italy
REVELATION #2
sharing priceless three weeks in Italy with my kid-brother JP
Enoteca’s in Italy
standing for what I believed was right that night in the UNDERGROUND and not giving in
walking along the Thames river
harvest in CHAMPAGNE
the water fights in the cellar
singing with Babassssssssssss in the cellar
the whole “family” at Ch. Jean Vesselle
tasting each and everyone of the 1000 wines over the summer
re-discovering my heart
...and living my dreams!

endless summer #62

Champagne Jean Vesselle

It is often easy to think about living a dream in real time. To live it then feels so natural with an edge of surrealism. But to try and write about it afterwards feels like a watered down affair. You are never able to express what you felt at the time. I am a winemaker. Thus my senses are what I live by. They guide me. Smelling, tasting, seeing, hearing and feel. You might think I am crazy, but often in a cellar you hear something before you see it, smell it or can taste it. That is if you know what to look out for or keep your ears to the ground before the cookie hits the fan. But for me there is a sense more important when I am in a cellar. And that is my emotions. Sounds weird but it is true. I want to combine all my senses and express them through my emotions...what I feel inside. And then I act on it. You can call it a “feeling” and it is something that separates the better from the best. I would sometimes just stand between the tanks and listen to the juice ferment on the inside. Hearing the rushing of the bubbles. Smelling the fruit aromas peeling out the top of the tank. Seeing the carbon dioxide pouring out at the top. Monitoring the temperature simply using your hand. And then allowing it all to settle inside of you...as you imagine the beauty of the final product.
So, my cellar experiences are very private and personal. Probably the most private side of me.... (even more that romantic relationships...hahahaha). But I feel obliged to write about my three weeks in Champagne. And believe me – this time - I want to. So this story is dedicated to my FAMILY at Champagne Jean Vesselle: David, Delphine, madame Vesselle, Patrick, Lucas, Elea, Tao, Elois, Bruno, Mariodielle, Nathalie, Babasssssssssssss, Alice, Lizzie, and Toke. Thank you for an unforgettable harvest!
As the train pulled into TGV station Champagne-Ardenne, I was on the look out for a man called David, wearing a pink shirt. I was uneasily nervous seeing that we have never met before and only spoke via e-mail. And even though I am confident with speaking French, I learnt my French in the south of France and WE speak differently down there. As we shook hands on the platform I could see he was nervous too, not knowing what to make of the stranger that will occupy an important part in not only his cellar, but also house and family over the next couple of weeks. I don’t blame him.....hahahaha. But over the next couple of weeks this nervousness would disappear very quickly.
Champagne Jean Vesselle (CJV) has recently re-done their cellar and the improvements were revolutionary...according to David. So I walked into a cellar that was as good as new. And that in itself was a privilege. The workability of the cellar was fantastic and logic. Often people spend millions of Euros to upgrade systems and cellars only to make it worse. But working at CJV was an absolute pleasure. I think I am qualified to make this statement seeing that I have worked in six different cellars already in my short professional life - seven if you include the cellar at the university.
A typical day would start between seven or eight and would run into the late hours of the eight, the latest being half past one in the morning, but that was due to the party we decided to have, so it was self-induced. I blame David off course, but the two Magnums of 1991 we had before we had to pump the juice at 01.30 in the morning, seem to numb the pain. So it was easy to forgive David.....hahahahaha.
After gulping down an early morning cup of coffee the action would start with both of the presses being filled to start their separate cycles. It was Bruno and Toke’s job to do most of the manual work of emptying the cases and washing them afterwards plus making sure the grape reception area stay clean, while Babassssssssssssssssssss and I would run around downstairs doing measurements, additions, pumping the fresh juice away to the correct tanks, preparing yeast and emzymes plus playing cricket!!! Babassssssssssss was my partner in crime in the cellar (or perhaps the other way around). He liked to think he was my boss and I just did my thing allowing him to do his. He’s an Australia-crazy-Oasis-loving Frenchman that thinks he understands cricket. So in our SPARE TIME I felt responsible to teach this wanna-be Aussie-Oasis-Frenchman a few lessons or two. We did have so many laughs while singing Oasis songs out loud, him on the lead guitar and me doing my thing on the bass. And we never “looked back in anger”! (Private joke).
The top management at CJV works like this: Delphine is the official/unofficial boss, (Seeing that all the direct bosses I have had in my life have been women this was familiar territory to me) but she and David, they both make the decisions together. David runs the day-to-day operations while Bruno knows everything and he has been working there for over 25 years. I enjoyed the dynamic between them and it works really well. And it is evident in their products. I have to say: The style and quality of their champagnes are exceptional. If you are ever in the Champagne region, stop in a small town by the name of Bouzy with all of its 1000 inhabitants. CJV is slap bang in the middle of this town, next to the momentous church tower. Do yourself a favour and stop to give my regards to David and Delphine. (Just watch out for the whirlwind bundle of four kids being chased by a hopeless au pair by the name of Alice or Lizzie. They are bound to run you over.....hahahahahahaha.)
On that note. One thing – no - the best thing about CJV for me was the feeling of family that echoes through EVERYTHING that happens there. We ate together three times a day. All of us. The kids would come back form school on their lunch break and we would eat lunch together. Dinner table would be set for sometimes as many as 18 people. And I really felt at home with them. David and Delphine have a way of making you feel at home and part of the family without even trying. It just comes natural to them and I think anyone that has ever walked into their house will tell you the same. They are what I like to call: open-arm-people. They just draw people to themselves.
As for the winemaking experience – it was a process of ENLIGHTENMENT! I would like to phrase it in the following words: I came, I SAW, and now I can go and conquer. My reason for going to Champagne has always been just to be there. To be an observer. That is why most days I was very quite. Unlike me I know. I turn into a different person when I am working in the cellar. Let’s just call it FOCUS mixed with A LOT of PASSION and leave it at that. But I was observing, sucking in all the knowledge that filled the air around me and making notes in my mind. Remember what I said...making wine to me is an art of the senses more than a precise science. So I restrained myself from asking to many questions and getting all tangled up in my intellect. And it played out perfectly.
There was also the wine-in-a-sock tasting that I will never forget. This is David’s idea of a blind tasting and hides the identity of the wine by covering the bottle in one of his socks. We then had to identify the origin, cultivar and vintage – the type of game wine lovers play. But my biggest challenge was when he one night just pushed a glass of bubbly in front of me a said: “Quelle Millésime?” meaning he wanted to know the vintage. It was a magnum bottle (meaning 1.5L’s) and I could immediately smell/taste it was an old vintage. He grinned and smiled knowing it was almost an impossible task to identify the true identity of the bubbly in my glass. I took a moment and said: “Jean Vesselle, 1991”. He swung around in disbelief and claimed I cheated by looking at the cork. But the bottle was unlabeled and the cork had no date markings. I just smiled and it felt as if I had won an Olympic medal...
There are so many memorable moments: The visits to other champagne houses, driving through the different villages and appellations, the water fights involving EVERYBODY, my initiation in the rose tank (a story by itself) and the ceremonial handing over of our signed bottles of CJV, plus missing the train to Montpellier....to name only a few.
But I eventually got on the train back to Montpellier. Earlier that morning David presented me with a box marked “Champagne Magnum” on the side neatly packed. I flipped it open and there she was. My own magnum of CJV 1991.
Champagne is more than just a wine. It brings people together from different corners of the world. It’s not just for ceremonies and celebrations; or the baptism of boats; or to be sprayed at the end of F1 or stages of the Tour de France. It’s even better to drink in the late afternoon at 16:37 at the coffee break when it has been a long hard day at CJV. The refreshing rush of bubbles revitalises the senses and the spirit; it opens the mind and stimulates your dreams. So next time you have some bubbles, think about what you have read here; the people of Champagne; the people of Bouzy; the beauty of this mystical product; the fun part of producing it and the joy of drinking it. I know I will.
As so many times before life has taught me a valuable lesson: You need to dream; then you need to go and live them, so that you can dream again....preferably with a glass of bubbly and good friends close by.

chefdecaves.

endless summer #61

le petit clos (name of the prestigious vineyard)

champagne jean vesselle

dinner with lizzie, alice, babassssssss, mariodielle, chef, bruno and david

another moment around the table

the sun going down

endless summer #60

the boozing black fella

babasssssssssssssssssssssssss

my initiation

victory in MINE!

lizzie hosing me off after my initiation

endless summer #59

the girl getting ready to empty the rose tank...lizzie, alice and delphine

in the rose tank

lizzie

david with his cellar girls

the girls at work

endless summer #58

lucas

lucas after we put him in the press with the grapes

princess elea

me with tao on my lap

tao

endless summer #57

david showing his skills

bruno taking one of not many breaks

david and bruno emptying a case of pinot noir

always smiling and singing

david perfecting his creme brulee

endless summer #56

everyday cellar work

endless summer #55

bouzy

the hills behind bouzy; part of the "montagne de reims"

the perfection strechting for miles

a closer look at perfection

the essence of perfection