Amanda Barnes

Author: AB

  • Cahors: Tierra de Malbec (Espanol)

    Todos conocemos la gran historia del Malbec y su exito en la Argentina, pero la biografia de esta variedad en Francia, su lugar de nacimiento, es muy diferente. Amanda Barnes viajo 11.000 kilometros y visito la cuna del cepaje, Cahors, buscando descubrir el verdadero origen. 

    Articulo de El Conocedor, Diciembre 2011

    Mientras nuestro Malbec ha conquistado el mundo con su redondez y estilo accesible, en Cahors, Francia, la cuna originaria de esta cepa, se encuentra un pariente mas oscuro, rugoso y rustico. Como el familiar que nadie visita, en los ultimos 100 años el Malbec de Cahors ha perdido su popularidad entre los amantes de vino mientras su primo argentino se convierte progresivamente en estrella. Pero gracias a la reaccion que produjo en el mundo este varietal elaborado en suelo patrio, Cahors empieza a desempolvarse mostrandole su rustico encanto al publico. Asentado en las colinas dormidas del sur de Francia se encuentra Cahors. Y este valle nebuloso alrededor del rio Lot es el lugar donde nace el Malbec.

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  • Riding with Gauchos

    I’ve been here two years and had some awesome experiences, but I think last weekend was one of my best weekends in Mendoza. Two days of horse riding in the Andes, sleeping under the stars and learning the tricks of the trade with a hoard of rowdy gauchos…

    Very near The Vines’ own vineyard in the Uco Valley lies the Manzano Historico – a mountain crossing to Chile made famous because it was here where General San Martin rallied up his troops to liberate Argentina. Tunuyan’s council recently decided to increase the area of the nature reserve and to celebrate they invited a few hardy journalists out to explore the area on the back of a horse with a few people from the council and around 30 gauchos to lead the pack.

    I have to admit from the beginning that I am terrible on horseback- a complete novice- so two days horse trekking, tripping over large rocks and jumping across rivers was quite a baptism by fire (and my butt has been reminding me ever since). But the rump ache is totally worth every last twitch as the experience of riding through the Andes is once in a lifetime.

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  • 24 Hours in the Life of a Winemaker

    24 Hours in the Life of a Winemaker

    winemaker_csmallAlthough Mendoza celebrates with fiestas and siestas during harvest, winemakers are at their busiest time of the year. Amanda Barnes writes 24 hours in the life of winemaker Brennan Firth. **Article from Wine Republic(www.wine-republic.com)

    April 25th: 12am

    It’s midnight. The winery is much cooler, but I’m still sweating like a pig. I am running around like a bit of a wild man, monitoring tanks, tasting juice, taking temperatures and breaking down the caps. I have seven full tanks at the moment and the caps (grapes risen to the top) need breaking every five to seven hours. At this early point in fermentation the must is more like a thick soup – I lift the plunger high over my head and force it down into the stiff mound of blackish purple berries. It’s like kneading dough. I inhale the heady aromas: bananas, tropical fruit and the reminiscence of nail polish remover.

    Jake (my intern) is washing down all the tools, pumps, equipment and the floor. I laugh as his head nods and eyes roll and he drops off into momentary sleep, only to be rudely awakened by spraying his own feet with the cold water.

    1.45am
    Tanks are ready, the place is clean and prepped for the morning and Jake is most definitely half asleep. We haul our exhausted sweaty bodies into the car. I don’t like to leave my grapes unattended for even a moment but I’m running on less than three hours sleep and have to pick the Malbec in the morning. I put on some loud music to keep us awake and we hit the road.

    2am
    Home. Cold beer, fag and a rather stale ham and cheese sandwich from yesterday. I stink, but I forget about showering and roll into bed.

    4.30am
    Alarm clock rings. Excited as a child on Christmas morning, I get up. My body doesn’t want to but my mind is reeling, desperate to get harvesting. Being part of the pick is really important to me. I’ve been tasting the grapes every day for the last month or two, and I know today is the day I want my Malbec harvested. You basically have to chew the hell out the grape to know when it’s ready – when the seed is no longer bitter and the grape not yet a raisin. Yesterday the grapes were prime, so today is the moment. This is it.I boil the kettle and bang on Jake’s door, I hear a grumble from inside, I bang again, I can hear his leg thud to the ground – mission accomplished.
    We head out to the car. Checklist: Jake, thermos and mate [highly caffeinated tea] and very loud rock music to keep us awake.

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  • Malbec vs Cot

    malbec_vs_ct_smallMalbec made Argentine wine famous, but its true French roots are lesser known on this side of the Atlantic. Amanda Barnes goes in search of the original Malbec – in Cahors, France before indulging in a luxury tour of its adopted home here in Mendoza. **Article taken from Wine Republic

    The French Connection

    Coming from Argentina, the first thing that really strikes you about Cahors is how green it is. Emerald green fields run into sloping lime green lawns with brooding pine green forests above –this is a very lush landscape. And typically on the day we arrive, it’s raining.

    Nestled in the middle of Southern France, almost equidistant between France’s two coast lines, the Lot region has a privileged position in the heart of food and wine country between Bordeaux and Provence. So it is no surprise that the local gastronomy is one of the main attractions for visitors of Cahors, as well as the stunning medieval architecture, multitudes of resplendent and crumbling chateaus and a host of outdoor activities.

    Arriving at the peak of summer, the city centre is a hub of activity (when the sun eventually does come out) with people wandering the walled medieval town, meandering alongside the river, gawking at France’s best preserved medieval bridge, and indulging in the local cuisine. This is the land of foie gras, duck, truffles and saffron; it would be easy to just spend a week here eating but as much as my stomach would like otherwise – I came to Cahors not just to glut but to get out and see where Malbec came from.

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