When I hear a native French speaker, the word comes across as “TE-wah”, with a slight lift on the first syllable and the “wah” soft, trailing off, and from the deeper throat of a more-open jaw. From native English speakers I hear more of a “terr-WAH”, with both a lift on and a more-forceful “ah” closing the second syllable. Definitions can vary as well. From some of my biology-oriented friends: “Terroir” – the sum of all environmental factors which affect a plant’s phenotype. Which then begs the question about phenotype: the observable characteristics that result from the interaction of genotype with environmental factors. Which then begs… Genotype: the genetic expression of an individual organism.
Well… There is a second (and for me a delightful and far more preferable) definition: A Sense of Place.
For those who are wine esthetes (“wine snobs”, “cork dorks”, etc.), terroir matters. The French may be the oldest, most-experienced practitioners, but they are not the only ones. However, since they got the ball rolling, let’s start there…
Bordeaux sits at the bottom of the Gironde Estuary, at 45º north latitude, Bay of Biscay, Atlantic Ocean. With a little help from the Gulf Stream winding its way across the North Atlantic, it enjoys a Mediterranean Climate normally found farther south. The funnel-shaped estuary has a strong NNW-SSE orientation which creates a large peninsula to the SW (between the estuary and the Atlantic). The stage is set for the most famous terroir story in wine: The Bordeaux Left (SW) and Right (NE) banks. On the Left is the Médoc Peninsula, home to Bordeaux’s celebrated (and late-ripening) cabernet sauvignon. On the right, the equally-famous Libornais, Bourg, and Blaye appellations and early-ripening merlot.
Microclimate, topography, soils. The Médoc peninsula is surrounded on three sides by water, consists of soils developed from the transported remains of silicate minerals found originally in the Pyrenees and France’s Central Massif, and displays a gentle topography affecting soil drainage. The Right Bank is farther away from the open Atlantic, has a steeper and more varied topography (with different effects on drainage), and soils developed from the in-place weathering of native limestone.
Some Geek Science for you: Specific Heat Capacity (SHC). This is the heat energy required to raise the temperature of a substance per unit mass. Joules/gramºC (J/gm-C) is the usual form, although there are others. The SHC for water, silica, and calcium carbonate (limestone) are: 4.2, 1.0, and 0.8 J/gm-C respectively. What does this mean? The Médoc Peninsula tends to be warmer and with a smaller temperature range than the Right Bank. The presence of water is a huge factor in moderating the climate given its very high SHC. However, even the slight difference between silica and calcium carbonate (0.2 J/gm-C) means that the soil temperature, especially during the longer-daylight hours of summer, stays somewhat higher on the Médoc. The setting of the Médoc creates warmer conditions (air and ground) for the late-ripening cabernet sauvignon. The somewhat cooler temperatures and different soils present on the Right Bank are major factors enabling the world-class merlot grown there. Elements of Terroir.
The sky is clear, the light pellucid here at the toe of the bajada – 20 miles east and at the bottom of the great complex of alluvial fans rising back toward the east flank of the Mimbres. Brad Shattuck’s vineyard is here, on the upland alluvial soils just west of the Rio Grande. With a finely-tuned sense of Terroir, he came here in 2007 after pondering the question: “Will the zinfandel grape do as well in Caballo, NM as it does in Lodi, CA?”. Some aspects of the Terroir are similar, but some are different. The Steppe Climate here is dryer than the Mediterranean Climate in Lodi, with colder winters. Summers can be hot, but at 4300′ and with a wide daily temperature range (the lack of humidity), maybe not too hot? And the zinfandel is a hardy grape… The first plantings were in 2008. In his own corner of the Rio Grande Rift Valley, he has since produced zinfandels that are unique, interesting, and very tasty… Terroir.
A little farther south, below Caballo and Elephant Butte reservoirs, the twin engines that power the agricultural enterprise that is the Rio Grande Project, I take a walk around the Percha Dam site and the town of Arrey. The complex of diversions, canals and ditches brings water to and completes the magic of the next 20 river miles downstream – a particular 20 miles of volcanic rift valley soils: Arrey to Derry to Garfield to Salem to…Hatch…
Dr. Paul Bosland (New Mexico’s “Chileman”) at New Mexico State University tells us that we should look at chile varietals just as we do wines: Sandia…Big Jim…Lumbre…Ms. Junie… I couldn’t agree more. The complexities both amaze and charm. The combinations of sweet, spicy, and earthy (even grassy to a taste of onion) differ based upon the varietal and the preparation. With a large number of varietals to choose from, your options are seemingly endless. And yet…it’s still Hatch. With all the varietals, all the modes of preparation, you still know when it’s Hatch…
I suppose there should be a comparable vocabulary. As a chile connoisseur, is one a “Pepper Poseur”? A “Hatch Flaneur”? There are not a lot of boulevards to be walking in Hatch, but whether on Franklin or Hall, sooner or later (more likely sooner) I’ll find a patio seat and get ready to tuck in. I’ve a date with Big Jim and a Chile Relleno…
