It was a dark and stormy morning.  It really, really was.  The morning of March 29th was cold, rainy and otherwise miserable.  It was the second day of Prince Edward County`s Maple Syrup festival.  The day before was full of glorious sun (we were 100 kilometers away from the country that day) and the festival was hopping.  Sunday morning was wet and not hopping.

We pulled into the county with no plan.  I was excited to have a bushel of apples and knew that a long day would be followed by a drive home with a few samples of local fare and the next day would be the first batch of preserves of the year – 75 pounds of sweet brown sauce lay in the near future and a day of exploration filled our daily plans.  The rain was a minor inconvenience.

The first vineyard that we stopped in was out of a postcard.  It was a swell place and the staff were friendly but the place seemed a little stuffy.  Wine (and the pursuit of it) can become inaccessible for me very quickly.  I am certainly no expert and find myself quickly out of my comfort zone.  I find myself quickly lost in the knowledge of moderately passionate wine lovers and sometimes intimidated by those who know a lot.

My first experiences in wine were unique.  I had been studying travel and tourism at college and wine tastings were semi-regular.  The rural college was afraid of libel related to students drinking and driving and did not want a school full of drunk kids.  Tastings would be scheduled for 7:30 in the morning and often accompanied by a coffee.  The glamour and taste were corrupted and despite some level of study I came out claiming that I liked Merlot the best – mostly because it was something safe and I could name it.

I have the good fortune of being around many that guide my purchases past the vast selection of Baby Duck and Black Tower that would otherwise fill my shelves.  OK, that`s an exaggeration – however it remains a fact that friends have saved me a lot of trial and error and have helped guide me to some stunning tastes that do indeed fill our wine shelves.

Back to the rainy day…

We continued past the nice but stuffy place and continued into the county.  This was our first visit and we were starting to feel the magic of the place when we turned into Norman Hardie Winery.  We stopped to take a photo of the sign on the way in.  Dana mentioned she had heard of the wine through a friend who vacations in the county and mentioned it by name.  She was a big fan and recommend it.

Our truck rumbled slowly down a thin dirt path as we wondered what would happen if a car approached from the other way.  We drove alongside a large field filled with empty vines which shuddered through the cold, hoping for the sun.  Plastic water bottles hung from the rows which we guessed were for measuring the amount of rain each area received.  The road took a corner followed by another and we were staring at an alien looking barn.  We pulled up beside the only other car in site.

After walking across the gravel lot we opened the door to this noveau building and were greeted with a gregarious smile and an offer of smoked salmon.  It was great.  Our host offered us a few samplings for a reasonable price and we chatted with the stranger for almost an hour.  He was great.

The conversation was warm, friendly and void of any stuffiness.  It was clear that the wine was a very serious operation and not an afterthought but it wasn`t the only thought.  There was room for humour, chatting and shooting the breeze.  He introduced himself as `Norm`after 45 minutes of chat and we were leaving with wine in tow.  He quietly confirmed that he was `THAT` Norm.

I should also mention his wine.  Norm poured several samples for us that were really, really nice.  We quite liked it and were enjoying it all when he poured us a glass of his Pinot Noir.  He smiled as we raised it to our mouths and the wine exploded into our mouths.  It is absolutely fantastic.  More on his Pinot in a few…

Fast forward 6 weeks and we are sitting in Gilead for what we have called our best dinner so far this year.  Norm was the featured winemaker of the evening.  We reacquainted and settled in for the night ahead.

Norm worked the room with his charm.  He`s not what one would expect – certainly not from the Hollywood romantic prose of a suave romantic sort with a French accent and a pointy moustache.  He`s far more authentic than that and you get an immediate sense that his primary love is his craft.  He has a mad flicker in his eye that hints there`s something going on behind the scenes.

Norm explained that he was a sommelier (and restaurant manager at the Four Seasons)  for many years before deciding he was growing tired of being an armchair quarterback.  He travelled the world for 6 years studying wine-making.  He travelled the world before settling back in the Toronto area looking to sew his roots.  A trip to Prince Edward County was all the exploration he needed to set a course for his future.  The soil (a soft clay) was rare and the climate cool.

Norm explained to us that grapes ripen best under 32 degrees Celsius.  The county raised over 30 degrees 6 times last August – an ideal climate for his elixir.  This cool temperature comes with a price – the vines have to be hilled up (buried like roses) every fall before being uncovered in the spring.  50,000-75,000 vines.  Wine regions south of us (in Ontario) do not have this same burden.  The work is boggling to try to even imagine.

Norm loves what he does.  He quizzed the room to see who liked different types of wines.  When he had a few shrills of delight he smiled a boyish grin and claimed, `well, you`re not going to like this one.`  He describes another as smelling of diesel and gunmetal and advises you should drink it in large gulps.  He explains that there will be no dessert wine this evening because he doesn`t think picking grapes in January is any fun.

Norm is also an educator.  He proudly raises his glass to the light and asks you to examine the color.  I thought the Pinto Noir looked awfully light, almost pink.  I fell for his pitch hook, line and sinker.  After examining the color he boldly claims that color does not matter a thing and offers the name of a lab which you can send your wine to and they will ship you a dye for the rest of your batch to fix you up.  I was even more enamored of the Pinot and Norman.  He challenges us to guess the percentage of alcohol and surprises many who think it must be higher in alcohol (which can inhibit flavor).  There is no mistake tha the knows his stuff – and no mistake that he is willing to share and will not turn his nose.

Like Norman himself, his wines are very accessible.  His website offers you options to email, call or drop bye and chat wine.  Take him up on the offer and take a few bottles home with you (they are sold mostly through the winery and restaurants).