Rancho Azul y Oro ~ Surviving the Dream

  Apologize for the hiatus!  As with everyone, some time was taken to bask in the warmth of the summer sun, roast a few marshmallows, go to the fair, watch a few sunsets, and walk barefoot through the grass (only in our minds, otherwise, the rattlesnakes could end the summer quickly).    What's been going on at the rancho, you might ask?  Lots, as always.  The table grapes ripened nicely and surprised us with much more bounty than expected!  The fig tree has produced a serious crop of figs this year.  We're currently producing fig jam, strawberry fig jam -- basically, anything one can think of utilizing figs, as well as our highly anticipated Tequila Jalepeno Grape Jelly and our Ruby Royale Grape Jelly.  Our current cocktail accompaniment is a olive/fig tampenade, with the ranch olive oil, naturally!   It was been a sizzling summer here on the Central Coast, with temperatures over 110 since mid-May through the end of July....

Bud break on the table grapes When last the ranchers drove off into the sunset, the native grasses were still gray in color and dormancy still dominated the landscape. A mere two weeks later and the temperatures have soared into the 80s, and upon arising yesterday, the occupants were greeted with bud break on the table grapes and on the olive trees. While it gladdens one's heart to see such demonstrations of the resiliency of Springtime, it also recalls to mind last year, when bud break occurred on the table grapes and olives at the end of March, and on April 8th and 9th, snow and hail decimated the newly budded plants and the crop for the year. The joyous weather and hopeful optimism of Spring could cause one to skip happily down the sidewalk, but history reminds one that happily skipping must be tempered with caution, since Mother Nature appears to be the world's great mischief maker. Be that as it may, after all the skipping down the sidewalk was completed, thes...

The end is in sight. The last olive has been picked. We remind ourselves, however, that it is now February of the next year. When one is hauling one's self in late at night after mat-layering or schlepping over to the barn in pajamas to crank the press down early in the wee hours of the morning, a negative attitude could creep in or thoughts along the lines that it seemed one was doing this months ago and is still engaging in the same task. It's been decided to opt for the positive spin, in order to retain sanity, the Italians don't pick their olives until January or February -- so we've got that going for us. The Arbequina paste and oil look distinctly different from the other three. The Mission and Frantoio paste were thicker to spread and the Mission oil is a gold, with hints of green; the Frantoio oil is an emerald green. We don't exactly know what to make of the Arbequina yet. The paste is extremely oily, so oily that the layers of mats were nearly slipping ...

It seems like it was a year spent waiting. Spring and bud break seemed like it would never come. Summer seemed to come in starts and stops. We waited all year for a heat that really only materialized on occasions when we wished not to have to deal with wilting heat; the rest of the summer was 26% below our normal temperatures. We waited for ripening of the grapes. We waited and waited. Finally, with the olive harvest upon us, we could not wait any longer. The Zinfandel was harvested October 4. The brix sneaked up on us and came in at an astounding 28.5, a whopping 17.8% alcohol. It is destined to accompany chocolate as a late harvest wine. It stormed most of that week of primary fermentation, but it provided a perfect backdrop to decorate for our Harvest Celebration with the family, which we celebrated our traditional third weekend of October and which will be covered in a separate post, but one of the highlights of the weekend was that the barn was officially renamed The Win...