A GREAT reason to care about global warming (if you haven’t bothered to care yet).

All I could say upon waking up this morning was WOW. Yesterday evening I was lucky enough to have taken part in a six-course wine tasting dinner at one of the top San Diego restaurants, and the tastes were still lingering on my tongue (or at least in my memory). For this I have a good friend to thank, as well as a good friend’s boyfriend, who happens to be the sous chef at the restaurant and who whips up a mean suite of hors d’oeuvres (specifically: smoked salmon canapés with American caviar, flash grilled oysters wrapped in prosciutto, malpec oysters chilled on the half shell, lobster bisque topped with lemon verbena foam, followed by a refreshing tomato water that effortlessly cleans the palate…I was happy before dinner even began). But before I start drooling recounting the delectable experience, I do want to convey what I found to be a tiny non-sensual highlight of the evening.

As the purpose of the dinner was to taste six wines featured from a small, family-owned Napa vineyard called Hill Family Estate, the owner and vintner, Doug Hill, took a few minutes before dinner began to present the wines and give us lucky guests a brief introduction as to how he got into the wine business and what life was like up in Napa. I was delighted to be introduced to the French word, terroir, which was used often in Mr. Hill’s description of the different grapes grown in his vineyards. Terroir, which is French for “soil”, takes on a specific meaning in wine-speak, and is used to describe the type of grapes that grow from a specific type of soil. It implies that the elements of a specific location—the type of soil, but also the altitude, amount of sun, nutrient density, drainage, and history of the land—have an enormous impact on the fruit that is grown there.

I couldn’t help but latch onto this word, and to begin to think about the significance of what it implies. “Terroir,” which is used to describe a group of vineyards that all grow under the same climate conditions, in one word immediately connects the wine to the land. It evokes images of workers toiling to pick the grapes, of the rain, sun, and wind passing over acres of vineyards, of the first buds forming on a vine that eventually will grow into the most perfect grape. Mr. Hill, perhaps subconsciously, seemed to be conveying his love and respect for the fact that it is the combination of elements—the land, the air, and the sun—that delicately interact and intertwine to create conditions that, when favorable, allow these tiny juicy fruits to be born from the soil. As he spoke his words barely concealed excitement as he explained that terroir does not necessarily need to refer to a region in general, but actually exists on a much smaller scale within vineyards themselves. The microclimiate of conditions can vary as much as every few feet in a vineyard, so that a line of grapes planted can have multiple soil conditions, and grapes at one end of a vineyard can have quite different growing conditions from their neighbors across the way.

It was refreshing to hear someone so connected to the land speak about how he had so much respect for it, as we often, I think, allow ourselves to become so far removed from where it is our food (and wine) actually come from. Grapes don’t grow in little plastic bags on grocery food shelves; they sprout from the soil of well tendered lawns, are carefully selected, and conveniently trucked across miles of highways to our local grocery. Finishing my third pour of wine, I contemplated how fascinating it was that the quality of an environment can have such a difference in the quality of the food that is grown there.

Cut to the next morning, when tired yet content, I slowly wake up. Checking my email, I find a daily update from Treehugger in my inbox (which I signed up for about two weeks ago) proclaiming that: GLOBAL WARMING WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO THE WINE INDUSTRY (insert dramatic, scary music here). The culprit? The Greenhouse Effect. According to a new study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, the increased projected number of days during the wine season that will reach over 95 degrees in Napa and Sonoma counties (and elsewhere), affecting the delicate balance of climate and atmosphere that produce high-quality grapes.

In a July 11 article in the San Jose Mercury News about the study, I stumbled upon this quote, which I think says a lot if you think about it in terms of a much broader scale:

“ ‘This is a call to arms,’ said Karen Ross, president of the California Association of Winegrape Growers, which represents 1,000 growers in the state. ‘We need to pay attention now. We ought to start thinking about what can be done now to impact the severity of what might happen.’

That’s right ladies and gentlemen. Global Warming can affect YOU. Forget the fact that the planet’s atmosphere has been gradually increasing in temperature for decades. If it doesn’t affect us it doesn’t matter, right? The blissful ignorance of our convenient lives, having instant access to anything moments after we think of it makes it hard to think about “potentially” troubling times far into the future. Until something happens that makes us realize this might affect us directly, at which point we are suddenly concerned.

I want to take a moment to point out here that I am not so much criticizing this fact (in fact I cast myself in the same boat as the rest of you) so much as I think we should take advantage of it. The closer you can bring an issue to home, the more likely someone is to act. And that’s a good thing.

So I guess what I’m hoping is that with this post, the issue of a climate crisis comes that much closer to home for the percentage of people who happen to be wine aficionados who also are reading this blog. Anyone??

Well if this inspires you at all, here are some incredibly easy (think: using a Rabbit) wine-related suggestions of what you can do to make a tiny contribution to slowing global warming (of course there's lots more you can do as well...keep checking back for more non-wine ideas in later posts):

1. Open a bottle of wine, pour yourself a glass and savor the delicate complexity. Then contemplate whether you really want to deprive your great grandchildren of enjoying the exact moment you find yourself in (okay, this might be stretching it, but you have to get inspired before you act)
2. Conserve resources next time you buy or bring a bottle of wine. Spend $3-$20 on a reusable wine tote, here or here.
   
3. Walk, run, or take your bike to the store next time you find yourself needing to pick up a bottle or two, sparing the planet of the carbon emissions you’d release from driving.
4. Try an organic wine, or wine from an environmentally conscious vineyard, and show your support for companies that are sensitive to environmental issues. [note: I have yet to try an organic wine but if I find a lable worth tasting I'll be sure to announce it]