Cues from Nature

Anthony Bourdain once said, “I need the anaesthetic qualities of the local firewater”. He wasn’t referring only to whisky; he was referring to local alcohol in general, the sort of stuff that puts hairs on your chest.

The term ‘firewater’ originates from the Gaelic uisge beatha, meaning ‘water of life’, which was later anglicised to ‘whisky’. Whether it originated from the burning sensation when drinking or the flammable effects, no one is sure. This relationship between fire and water is the essence of whisky; there’s an old Scottish saying that “today’s rain is tomorrow’s whisky”. It’s all very poetic — no water, no whisky.

Fire plays a crucial role in whisky production, too. Firstly, in drying the barley or, in bourbon, the corn and rye. Then there is flavour development through malting — at a very basic level, smoke can be used to infuse more phenolic compounds into the grain to encourage a depth of flavour. Fire and smoke come up a lot in spirits. I remember enjoying my first mezcal, El Camino del Pensador. These guys work only with mezcaleros who are grower-producers — meaning they are farmers as well as distillers. Growing agave for mezcal is a laborious process that requires a lot of patience. I used to think waiting three years for a vine to bear fruit was lengthy, and then I came across agave. The fastest growing varietal that El Camino del Pensador use is called Espadín, which can take between eight to 12 years to reach maturity. So begins the artisanal process of cooking the agave. This traditional method has remained largely unchanged for hundreds of years. The agave are literally cooked in a fire-powered pit oven. Next, they are crushed by a millstone, or tahona, then fermented naturally in open-air wooden barrels. The distillation happens in small fire-powered copper alembics, with the addition of local water. As the El Camino del Pensador guys say, “It is powered by fire, by sun and by hand”.

The 2020 vintage didn’t go to market due to smoke taint. “We tried it, got friends to try it, and we knew it wasn’t 100 per cent right,” Lisa says. Thankfully they had a brilliant vintage in 2021, but were faced with challenges again in 2022. “We had the hottest temperatures ever recorded, and everyone’s grapes essentially boiled on the vines,” Lisa says. Their solution was to pick much earlier: “It’s an extreme ratcheting of ripeness.”

Given the high risk of wildfires, Lisa and her fellow winemakers in Napa County have had to prepare themselves for the worst: “We used to be so naive and plant right up to the building. We don’t keep our wine here in our warehouse on site any more. When you have claims that go into the billions of dollars, insurers look at a map and say you’re too risky, we’re not covering you.” Lisa says they are paying six times what they used to pay for insurance.

While winemakers carry on, the overarching theme of these extreme scenarios seems to be community. “I just want to say how I feel so much closer with friends here that experienced the same things. It’s like we are bonded in a way that cannot be broken,” Lisa says. “It’s amazing to feel there are good people that just want to help, it’s really reaffirmed my faith in humanity. That’s how we are able to go and be positive. The fires in L.A. brought a lot of it back. A friend lost her family home in Pacific Palisades; I hope all of us can figure out a way to save our beautiful planet.”