nthropologists have written much on the notion of a “liminal” stage in rites of passage. This is the point at which participants pass from their old state of being into a new state of being – you know, like when the fiancée is toted over the threshold, or when the boy becomes a man, or when the outsider joins the club. My buddy Chris came along for a tour of Missouri’s Ozark Highlands appellation, and I played the amateur anthropologist in observing his “liminal” transformation from import wine aficionado to local wine enthusiast.

The Ozark Highlands appellation comprises 1,280,000 acres in south-central Missouri. Four wineries currently reside here, but enough grapes are grown to support many times that number. The area was settled in the mid-1800s by Italian immigrants who used their viticultural talents to grow a native America grape, Concord. Then other varieties followed, and wineries sprang up. In the 1920s, the Ozark Highlands contained about 2000 acres of vineyard, with most of the fruit sold to the Welch’s Grape Juice Company.

The “highlands” are at about 1100 feet elevation. The fertile, well-drained soil is great for row crops and the production of table grapes, but the acreage for wine grapes has to be tended assiduously to avoid over-production and a subsequent loss in quality. Native American and French-American hybrids thrive in this environment, and these grapes account for a large majority of the wines produced in the Ozark Highlands.

Historic Route 66 runs through the area, and much of the appellation seems unchanged from the highway’s heyday. The famous Wagon Wheel Motel and Finn’s Motel (“Vacancy!” “Family Units!”) still welcome weary motorists. In season, travelers may purchase fresh grapes from plywood grape stands along 66 and its modern successor, Interstate 44. The wineries in the appellation are centered on the St. James/Rosati area, with vineyards surrounding the area. An echoing, retro feel pervades the area, but that is acceptable for grape growing and winemaking, industries that use many tools and techniques that have changed very little in the last century (e.g. small wine presses, oak barrels).

Phyllis Meagher, owner of Meramec Vineyards in St. James, has been updating her winery lately with a new entranceway. Her renovations mirror her wine list - as visitors pass from the somewhat outmoded St. James area and enter the contemporary interior of her tasting room/bistro, so, too, the printed wine list moves from “Euro Tradition” to “American Tradition.” Phyllis personally tends her 60 acres of vineyard. “Euro Tradition” wines include Norton, Vignoles, two white blends, and a red blend. The “American Tradition” wines include blends of native grapes (Concord, Catawba, Stark Star, and Niagara) and French-American blends (Vidal Blanc and Cayuga).

The “Euro” wines are named such not because of their vinification but because they are made of French-American hybrid grapes. They carry distinct expressions of each varietal, even in the blends. The “American” wines evoke thoughts of picnics by a river, lounging under a big cottonwood in the summertime. These are fun, unabashedly Middle-American wines.

The tasting room/bistro is large, airy, and very pleasant, and Phyllis hosts occasional dinners (e.g. trout dinner, harvest moon festival) with a talented visiting chef. Phyllis is a strong proponent of the Missouri wine industry and a good friend. She took us to the production area to taste her yet to be bottled Stark Star port. Had I not known it was a port, I might have thought it was an unfortified dessert wine. This is a great port for those leery of heavy oxidized tones in port.

About 300 yards from Meramec Vineyards is the St. James Winery, the largest wine producer in Missouri, producing about 180,000 cases of wine per year. The exterior of the winery evokes its 1970’s founding, featuring a large sign in groovy lettering in front of a large dark-red, wood-clad warehouse-style building. Stepping over the threshold, Chris was shocked at the sight of cases and bottles of wines in bold, bright colors. Color-saturated labels with undulating Thomas Hart Benton-esque images were on bottles of a variety of colors, with lime green and sunny yellow capsules topping the bottles. Silver buckets gleamed on the shiny tasting counter, and it took a minute to get our bearings.

We were met by Ron Townley, cellar supervisor at St. James Winery, who showed us into the extensive production area. Standing in front of imposing 5000-gallons tanks with an inch of frost on them, Ron simplified their mission: “There is just a real strong dedication to quality here. If you make a good product, people will want to buy it.” Indeed, looking over their 65-ton grape press or their bottling line, which can label, cork, and capsule 140 bottles per minute, it is evident people must want to buy their products.

With over 35 products on their wine and juice list, the self-serve set-up of their tasting bar was convenient, if not unexpected. Chris and I discussed how a certain Seyval Blanc is more steely than a fruiter one from a different vintage. All of their wines are good, and they really do have something to please just about anyone. Those seeking sophisticated old-world wines might not find their wine (although their Cynthiana comes close), but, judging from the labeling and vinification style, that is not what St. James Winery is after. After all, their trademarked slogan is “America’s Midwest Winery.” Their distribution carries into 14 states, and the winery has a total of over 500 vineyard acres, with satellite vineyards in Arkansas and Michigan.

After poking around St. James and having lunch, we headed on to Heinrichshaus Vineyard and Winery. Despite Chris’ proven navigational skills, the winery was not easy to find. The light, cold rain didn’t help. As Chris discussed his growing knowledge of Missouri wines, we finally spotted the tiny sign denoting Heinrichshaus. Then we hit another liminal point. Pulling up the drive, I felt suddenly removed to a chalet somewhere in the Tyrolean alps. The entire winery was the size of the St. James Winery tasting area.

Stepping into Heinrichshaus was like stepping into another part of the world. A light smoky scent was in the air, and a grey cat, the sole greeter, lounged in front of a pot-bellied stove. Covering the walls were dozens of wine bottles, some very dusty, along with a framed photo of a distinguished-looking gentleman wearing the type of traveling cap/beret that can be purchased only in Europe. Loud classical music blared from a back room. After calling “Hello?”, a man appeared from the back room, appearing to be the gent in the picture aged 3 decades. The beret was now a woolen cap due to the weather and the apparent lack of heating in the winery, save for the pot-bellied stove.

Heinrich and Gina Watkins Grohe, “wintners,”[sic] have been making wine for over 30 years. Heinrich has been having a hard time in the vineyard because of hard pan soil and a high level of magnesium, but he is doing fine in the cellar. Despite the fact that the smoky air made smell testing difficult, his wines were fine examples of their varietals. The components of his one blend, Prairie Rouge, are a secret; I guessed St. Vincent, due to the wine’s deep ruby coloration, but Heinrich merely smiled and kept his mouth shut.

Notwithstanding that there is really no place to sit down in the winery, I really wanted to bring in more friends to show them the old-school, old-world interior and to taste this wine. Heinrich is nice as well as wise. Chris even tested his new wine knowledge, talking with Heinrich about his wines. We wanted to stay and chat longer, but I also wanted to move on to see my friends Clyde and Katie at Peaceful Bend Vineyard.

Peaceful Bend Vineyard is in nearby Steelville, Missouri. Clyde and Katie Gill have operated Peaceful Bend for about 10 years, and they have done much to promote Missouri wine in general. The winery is camouflaged on the 72-acre property, and the natural qualities of the exterior flow to inside the winery. Katie greeted us warmly and led the way down to the cellar, where Clyde was working on a pump. Katie and Clyde have solid experience in viticulture and winemaking, respectively, yet are patient about explaining even the basics of grape growing and winemaking.

Peaceful Bend’s approximate 5000 gallon annual production covers about 10 products, but I especially wanted to taste the 11th - a yet-to-be-released sparkling Chardonel crafted in the méthode champenoise. Making sparkling wine in this laborious manner is tedious, messy, and somewhat dangerous. Clyde popped the cap on a bottle and poured out. While true-to-form “blanc de blanc” sparkling wines are made of Chardonnay, Clyde’s Chardonel sparkler was light in texture but medium bodied, with the warm tones of Chardonel fully present. Plus, it was just fun to sit on a barrel, sip champagne, and talk about lobe pumps, riddling racks, and disgorgement.

The wine at Peaceful Bend demonstrates the range of Clyde’s and Katie’s abilities. The 2002 Barrel Fermented Chardonel maintains nice fruit expression, which is often masked with sur-lie aging. The Forché Renault dry red blend contains Villard Noir, St. Vincent, Norton, and Chelois - a unique combination yielding surprisingly light but predictably pleasant wine. The Concord is made from grapes grown by Phyllis Meagher, and it was fermented for 2 to 3 days on the skins, producing a great summer sipper with brilliant color.

Clyde and Katie have hosted a number of events in their small cellar, including chamber ensembles, folk acts, and art shows. They are aware of the natural beauty of the Ozark Highlands, naming a few of their wines after area streams (including Courtois, a great dry white blend named after the stream which locals pronounce “coat-away”). There is usually a dog ambling about the place, and Clyde is often out cutting dead wood or otherwise “working the land.”

Peaceful Bend is a very comfortable place, the perfect venue for Chris to leave behind his rank of “Missouri wine outsider” and enter the special, non-exclusive club of “Missouri wine enthusiast.” Having completed his liminal, transitory phase, he now may go about the state, comparing flintiness in Chardonel, discussing the velvetiness of Vignoles, and enjoying the Missouriness of Norton.

The Ozark Highlands is an appellation without pretension, where the wine speaks for the land and for itself.

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Photos by Tim Pingleton unless otherwise noted.