The inspiration for this think piece comes from @thegrapenomad (thanks man!) – a few weeks ago, he mentioned us in his Instagram story, comparing Stockinger barrels to a Porsche 911. And while I can't generally disagree with that... is it really that simple?
I'm going out on a limb here, but I'll allow myself to do so because I have a firsthand experience. Not with driving a Porsche 911, mind you. But with Stockinger barrels. And the experience is... unsurprisingly, GREAT.
First-class and unique, from customer service and product quality to after-sales service. An experience that makes you feel that this was money well spent. And that's no small feat. (Especially since our very first Stockingers were bought with money supposed to pay for the windows in our new house. Well, the windows had to wait.)
It's an experience that you don't have on a daily basis. So far, the analogy with the Porsche 911 works.
But let me offer my own analogy. A 911 is a car that gets you to your destination. Beautifully, comfortably, quickly, and safely. But another car will get you there too – maybe less luxurious, maybe you'll arrive a bit dusty because the windows don't seal quite as well. You might be cold at first because heated seats aren't part of the package. The shocks might be worn and maybe you'll arrive in mild discomfort. But you're there, you've reached your destination. Your experience is different from the 911, but it's not necessarily worse. It's just different. For some, more adventurous. For others, unacceptable.
What I'm getting at: why do we winemakers have such a tendency to place so much weight on the vessel in which we keep our wine? In our case, the barrel. We can dissect it from every angle. Grain structure, seasoning, toasting. No need to dwell on the importance of these parameters in details – I'm well aware of them. But aren't we overrating it all a bit?
It's JUST a barrel, just like it's just a press, just a bottling line. They're all helpers that get us to our destination. Nothing more, nothing less. It's a detail that matters, under certain circumstances. We could call those circumstances a "chain reaction". If you're able to connect a group of details together, everything starts to make sense. But one detail pulled out of context is meaningless. And that's exactly how the barrel discussion sometimes feels to me.
"Why do winemakers place so much weight on the vessel in which we keep our wine?"
Why is it so much easier for us to focus on the less essential things and prioritize them over what's truly fundamental? Why don't we discuss mycorrhiza with the same enthusiasm? Why don't we compare a drought-resistant, deep-rooting rootstock to some supercar? And why don't we place the greatest value on seventy-year-old vines that are virus-free and have exceptional genetics?
Haven't we got the wrong parking lot? Are the 911s really parked in our cellar? Aren't they rather out there, in one of our vineyard locations? Aren't we dusting and polishing something that isn't all that important, while the piece that truly matters is falling apart and running on just three cylinders out of six? (Or eight? I don't actually know that much about cars...)
I'm quite grateful for that IG story – it made me realize where my real 911s are parked. And it's not in the cellar!
PS. I'd like to emphasize that I'll happily buy another barrel from Mr. Stockinger, because there is no better choice. The question remains whether he'll still be willing to sell me one, if ever he sees this musing :D
