Freedom was ours to wander within their entwined rows, lost in admiration at their stretched acres, so near where we lived in Fraser Town in Bengaluru.
I recall Sevanagar’s vintage vineyards alongside Banaswadi, that boasted the ‘Bangalore Blue’ from which the wine prepared, graced many a celebration at which a toast was raised!
As like the vines we ourselves matured from teens to thirties between the 1960s and 1980s, our experiences included jaunts to buy grapes sold wholesale in cane baskets, carried home for the large family to involve in wine-making for Christmas, and if left over, to serve later.
Duties would be assigned to sort, destalk, weigh, wash, squash and layer out the juicy grapes in stone jars. Inevitably we surreptitiously devoured some! Anyone eager for an errand would dash round the corner to Albert Baker’s home on Robertson Road to fetch fresh yeast. The same Albert Bakery of today’s Mosque Road fame and Ramzan iftar name!
Blending a sweet mild red wine involved blue grapes, water, wheat, sugar, stiffly whipped egg white, all emptied into a stone jar tightly fitted with a screw top, to initiate the fermentation process for 21 days. This according to a recipe of proportions and preparation method, handed down through generations for guidance, possibly modified to individual taste.
Thereafter began twice daily stirring for a week with a long handle wooden spoon, entailing quite some muscle power. Stirring reduced to once daily for another week before the next arduous task was taken up, requiring muslin cloth for squeezing out the ‘gooey’ mixture into a huge vessel to extract the somewhat refined ‘wine in process’. Additionally, flies that appear from nowhere had to be kept at bay, as this liquid would be poured back into the jar, left untouched for another week to mature while sediment settled, and the ‘gooey’ skins and seeds mix was disposed.
D-Day arrives
With eager expectation on ‘D’ or discovery day, tasting would occur. The wine would be poured out into the designated vessel, ensuring extreme care to retain the sediment in the jar. From here, a steady hand would funnel it into sparklingly washed, sun-dried empty glass bottles, perhaps once filled with branded squash, stored for this.
All would glance at the hue, voice opinions, vie for the first sip to ensure it had not turned sour or become vinegar, but was just right!
Thrilled if so, then a tot was passed around to sample and approve. No indulging, unfortunately, as in those times, wine was served in minuscule liqueur glasses. Liqueur itself was a dream and though we did possess those glasses, did not own wine size glasses as they come today! Wine itself was then deemed ever so precious, perhaps because of the laborious preparation that was involved.
On festive occasions we enjoyed a choice from homes we visited, and the tradition continues. Bengalureans today are wine connoisseurs with ranges to choose from the home-made to high-end, with vineyards spread and the number of species of grapes grown having expanded. Vintners have turned a lucrative industry into tourist attractions and educative expeditions. Mamas’ recipes are still treasured. GenNext has extended the expertise to other fruits and grains…
Thus the humble and the haughty co-exist. To each an individual flavour is irreplaceable. Habits die hard...
Cheers ‘Bangalore Blue’ plus all that is new! A glass of wine still does me fine and mercifully too, no more do I sip it by the thimbleful…
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