`We like to think we're Haut-Medoc and he's Entre-Deux-Mers," explains Dr Billy Christopher. His vineyard is situated west of Mallow in Co Cork, and with eight acres of vines and three grape varieties, he has the largest Irish vineyard. It just so happens that another wine maker Michael O'Callaghan of Longueville House, is across the road from his operation at Gortnagross.
Coinciding with the phenomenal Irish interest in wine, reflected in huge increases in consumption of imported wines, there has been intense speculation on the possibilities of producing a quality Irish wine. Christopher is in no doubt that it is possible to produce a quality product, but admits the jury is still out on whether consistent quantity and commercial viability can be realised.
He is sceptical of those who say it cannot be done, because he believes the experiment may take several generations to complete. Some views carried recently in the Irish Times were "unduly pessimistic", he says. He might reach the same conclusions as those who insist that ultimately the climate is unsuitable. But the possibility cannot be ruled out on the basis of a few growing seasons, he says. "The viability of an Irish vineyard cannot be determined for at least 20 to 25 years."
Jurancon sec is the closest thing he has tasted to his Blackwater Valley wine; part of two little Basque appellations produced thousands of feet up in the Pyrenees, and often featured in the seafront restaurants of Biarritz in south western France. While there are completely different grape varieties involved, there are some similarities in terms of climate and growing conditions, indicated by the same kind of undergrowth in both locations; a combination of brambles, weeds, daisies and dandelions. He accepts this is merely anecdotal evidence, but it motivates him in his quest to establish an Irish wine.
Both locations have a maritime influence, even if the Christopher vineyard would be considered by many to be inland. He has three grape varieties, Reichensteiner, Madeleine Angevine, and Seyval Blanc which does not fruit in its first five to six years and was thought to be unsuitable to the Irish climate. But once it started fruiting for him it was a different story. "It's often the saviour now."
The vineyard is on a site with a south-western aspect, which is important. He started growing grapes in 1976. A decade later, he expanded, making it the largest in the country. Each year, he has changed the parameters in an effort to get the combination right. Of late, he has had to contend with frost in May, the one time in the growing season that it can cause much damage. During his 15 years of production, he has had May frosts for the four successive years up to 1997 but was in the clear this year.
But he believes he may have discovered the means to escape its worst effects, by raising the buds to at least three feet above the ground. "It's a huge operation. We will only find out by trial and error."
Covering the whole vineyard is outrageously expensive and does not work. Lighting fires and using smoke in an attempt to keep temperatures up does not work either, he finds. "You have to discover where the frost is. It comes rolling down the hill, and up to a level of two feet above the ground."
Attempting to grow grapes at the limit of suitable climatic conditions is difficult, he admits. "The vines have to be coaxed along. If it succeeds, the fruit can be magnificent."
The difficulties encountered are a lot different to viticulture in England, he contends. And it's not climate that causes most difficulty in Ireland, he claims, but predators: rabbits attacking young vines (which set him back two years) and birds, pheasants and badgers taking the fruit later in the season. Equally, excise duties can be penal for a small producer. You also need "half decent weather" for flowering in the middle two weeks of July to get proper fruit sites for pollination. Regular summer pruning helps maximise flowering.
The wine-making process is of paramount importance, whether growing grapes in Bordeaux or in Blackwater Valley, which is probably the warmest part of the country notwithstanding the frosts. Growing grapes to the correct ripeness is essential. "This is where a lot of people fall down. They don't know how to make the wine."
He carries out sterile filtration of his product and corks by hand using sterilised, waxed corks. The wine is usually chaptalised in a moderate year, as is permitted in wine-producing countries of northern Europe i.e. sugar is added to the grape must when the natural grape sugar is deficient, not to sweeten but to bring up the alcohol level. Chaptalised wines generally tend not to keep well, though they can be attractive when young.
`One can make an extremely good wine in Ireland. I'm not saying you can make vast quantities." Some, however, are inclined to conclude that because they can't do it, it cannot be done. He gets just as indignant at those whom he believes make conclusions based on insufficient research. Some Irish attempts to grow grapes in the past were insufficiently resourced and lacked commitment, he believes, in terms of staying with it for a significant period.
He is set to stay with it for many, many years. He speculates with enthusiasm that his vineyard may become his pension fund on retirement from his GP practice. "Whether I'm commercial or not, I'll know just before I die. In the meantime, I'm determined to make drinkable wine."
Christopher says he's not in need of publicity. He does not have much wine to sell and has a policy of not releasing anything that's not drinkable. This he sells at £100 for a case of 12, which is not cheap, he accepts, and translates into about £20 a bottle in restaurants. He supplies Doyles' seafood restaurant, Dingle; Assolas Country House, Blairs Cove Restaurant, and Springford Hall in Co Cork and Gregans' Castle in Co Clare - O'Briens Fine Wines, Dun Laoghaire also stock his wines.
"When I get to the stage of producing 20,000 bottles (a year), I will sell the lot on Fifth Avenue on St Patrick's Day," he adds boldly. "I know I can make fine wine, whether enough on a consistent commercial basis is another matter. If you ignore capital costs, I'm probably breaking even about now."
He is not claiming to have the best wine palate, though he knows what he likes. But he claims to have an expertise in wine-making which is different to the ability of wine tasters and climatologists. The dream of an Irish vintage of distinction still lives, in his estimatation. He is comforted by the realisation that the great Chateau Mouton Rothschild did not make a profit for at least a generation, if not two. It may simply be a case of Chateau Blackwater Valley following suit.