We were very honoured to attend a staff/family function at Ravine Vineyard recently.
Two of the original staff members were moving on to other projects and so the Harber family, the owners of the establishment, threw them a farewell celebration. Everything seemed to align to make it an almost blissfully perfect evening. A warm summer night that turned just cool enough to send the mosquitoes to bed as the sun set and the full moon rose over the Niagara escarpment. Plenty of Ravine wine as well as beer and spirits on hand. A delicious barbecue of whole suckling pig, fantastic sausages from Mario Pingue, fresh Ontario corn and a pasta salad.
Beyond all of the obvious trappings though, there is a sense of gemütlichkeit that seems to permeate the very soil of Ravine. The Harber family talks a lot about 'family' and since Norma Jane Harber's family has been working the site for 150 years, the idea of family is something concrete and evident, not just a vague concept. Every one of the 30 or 40 people there, staff and their significant others and assorted off-spring, were treated like members of the family. A rare gift in an age of mega-corporations and faceless services. But still, even beyond that, there was, for me at least, an incredible sense of calm and well-being as I wandered the estate, tasting Chardonnay and Merlot grapes, or as I sat with the vineyard and cellar team, around the bonfire which had been lit just at the edge of the vines. Was it the people who were present? Is it the great joy that emanates from the Harbers when they are surrounded by family & friends? Is there actually some magnetic force that pulses through the very soil of the vineyard? Or is it just me?
Ultimately, the answer doesn't really matter. It was a memorable evening, full of as much joy and good cheer as a dozen Christmases. I felt flattered to be included. I think we all did.
It is events like these, events unique to this terroir, that I will long for as I navigate my way through a tropical mega-city on the other side of the world.
