Few folks enjoy the fruits of their labor as much as members of the Purple Foot Wine Club.
For a half-century now, the nation's third-oldest amateur winemaking club has transformed a variety of fruit, primarily grapes, into (usually) tasty wine. The membership, consistently 100 strong over the decades, has evolved in terms of fruit sourcing, equipment and techniques. But all the while it's been more about fellowship than the finished products.
"This is really more of a social group than anything else," said Steve Kroll, a longtime member and the group's unofficial historian. "We certainly emphasize winemaking, but there is just such great camaraderie."
The bond is strong enough that a little thing like a global pandemic was more a distraction than a deterrent. We are, after all, talking about hardy Midwesterners.
Just over a year ago, the group gathered to de-stem and crush a few tons of grapes brought in from the West Coast. "We started in cold weather," said group president Mike Little, "and it didn't really warm up all day. By around 2 p.m. the snow had started. By 4 p.m., we finished crushing about 8,000 pounds of grapes in heavy snow. There were at least 2 inches of wet snow covering the final bin of grapes. It was pretty miserable weather. Fun, though.
"We view it with a sense of humor," he continued, "and more than once I've heard the comment that 'there's an easier way to get this stuff. They sell it already in the bottle at the liquor store.' "
Happily, this year's crush took place on a balmy October day in Little's yard near Farmington. Roughly 5 tons of grapes were split among the members and will eventually become about 3,200 bottles of wine. And the grapes were processed in such an air of devil-may-care bonhomie that one observer said, "You guys do everything one-handed. You always have a glass of wine in the other hand."
Chances are the wine flowing that day was from bottles with homemade labels and produced by club members with grapes grown in Washington or California. In its early days, the club used concentrate or locally grown fruit to make their wine, storing it in glass containers called carboys. But now they import stellar fruit from some of the better vineyards in the Yakima Valley and Columbia Gorge in Washington or Santa Barbara and Sonoma counties in California, and age the juice in French oak barrels.