As the sun rises over Michigan’s Grand Traverse Bay, residents of the Old Mission Peninsula race up and down the M-37 to get to work. Like clockwork on the narrow peninsula, they hit traffic. Horns blaze and tempers rise.
Just ahead of the bottleneck, an orchard tractor inches down the road to a neighboring farm, a reminder that this high-value strip of real estate is more than an annual vacation destination or the perfect place to build one’s dream house, complete with a white picket fence and views of the lake. It’s also an agricultural hotspot. A place where roots run deep through generations of farmers and fruit growers.
Out of all the produce farmed in this corner of the Great Lakes, nothing is more ubiquitous than the tart cherry. The U.S. produces around 275-300 million pounds of tart cherries annually, with Michigan contributing about 75% of the total yield. In Traverse City, the region’s largest municipality—population of just over 15,000—the cherry has become a symbol of agricultural heritage, earning the area the marketable moniker “Cherry Capital of the World.”
The pinnacle of Northwest Michigan’s cherry culture happens during the National Cherry Festival, a weeklong summer celebration that overlaps with the Fourth of July. Since its inception in 1925, it has become the quintessential celebration of the area, complete with quirky traditions such as the annual crowning of the Cherry Queen and Cherry King, their parade down Front Street, and cherry-pit spitting contests. Young locals and tourists alike scarf down cherry fudge, warm cherry pie or cherry jerky—usually beef or venison, marinated in cherry juice—before watching cherry-shaped explosions rain red and green flames over Grand Traverse Bay in an annual fireworks spectacle. Speedboats crowd the bays, harbors, and beaches, and millions of dollars flow into the hands of local businesses.
After the crowds leave, the party dies down, but the cherry fever continues. Locals decorate their homes with cherry signs and drink cherry-flavored beverages out of cherry-shaped mugs. Neon cherry bar signs light up the entrances at local watering holes that serve cherry ale for customers to enjoy alongside cherry-stuffed burgers. Even during the height of winter, when snow piles reach the roofs and temperatures plummet to the negative digits, people still eat cherry muffins and decorate front doors with cherry-shaped wreaths.
Northwestern Michigan is also home to two of the fastest growing American Viticultural Areas (AVAs) in the country–Leelanau Peninsula and Old Mission Peninsula–and a blossoming craft beer scene. But amongst the Farmhouse Ales, Rieslings, and Pinot Noirs that are bringing wine and beer aficionados to the area, one will find an old-school favorite: cherry wine. Look in any gift shop, grocery store, or hotel and chances are you’ll find a bottle or two.
Northwest Michigan is an ideal location for growing cool-climate grapes and stone fruits like cherries, thanks to the moderating climate of Lake Michigan and the state’s permeable soil, which was created by advancing and retreating Pleistocene glaciers that ground rocks into sand, clay, and sediments between roughly 55,000 and 10,000 years ago.
“Locals decorate their homes with cherry signs or cherry-shaped wreaths and drink cherry-flavored beverages out of cherry-shaped mugs. Neon cherry bar signs light up the entrances at local watering holes that serve cherry ale for customers to enjoy alongside cherry-stuffed burgers. ”
The region’s history of commercial fruit production traces back to the early 19th century. As the United States went through the industrial revolution, the cities in Michigan’s South attracted factory workers looking for opportunities. The North beckoned sailors, sawyers, gangsters, writers, and farmers, drawn by rumors about the region’s agricultural potential. By the mid-1800s, transplants from New York and New England were planting commercial crops of apples, peaches, and eventually cherries in the rich soils near Traverse City.
According to the National Cherry Festival, Presbyterian missionary Peter Dougherty first planted cherries on the Old Mission Peninsula in 1852. Many people doubted the trees could survive harsh winters and encouraged him not to even try, but despite all odds, they thrived. By the beginning of the 20th century, farmers saw their money-making potential. Many residents took up cherry farming, and the local industry was born.
Today, there are just under 300 tart-cherry growers in Michigan, mostly in the northwest corner of the state, growing a dozen varieties of the fruit. About 15 of the area’s 40 wineries then transform those luscious fruits into wine. It is a small but dedicated segment of the state’s overall wine industry, with growers and producers alike keeping traditions alive.
The Simpson family of Good Harbor Vineyards and Aurora Cellars are one of those dedicated growers and producers. Like many transplants to the area, they came from the industrial heart of the Midwest (in their case, Indianapolis) to make a life in the rural north after falling in love with the area during their summer vacations. They invested in land, subdividing the farmable and non-farmable portions, and planted grape vines and cherry trees on the higher elevated sites.
“When my dad went through college and wanted to move home to run the cherry farm, my grandfather told him, ‘That’s not going to happen; you need to find something to diversify the farm,’” says Sam Simpson, winemaker and co-owner of Aurora Cellars and Good Harbor Vineyards. “So he said, ‘I'm going to UC Davis to learn how to make wine.’”
When Sam’s father, Bruce Simpson returned from university, he was among the first pioneers of winemaking in the North. Good Harbor Vineyards opened its doors in 1980, and since the family already had a successful large-scale cherry farm, cherry wine made it into the portfolio from the beginning.
Today, Good Harbor sells its house label to members of its wine club and in its tasting rooms. They also make wine for Cherry Republic, the region’s original all-things-cherry shop. The wine only makes up around one percent of their overall sales, but only because growing interest in grape wine over the years has taken off faster. “On Google, cherry wine is the number one thing people come to our website for, so there’s interest out there,” Sam says.
Many contemporary producers look at cherry wine as a vehicle for expressing Michigan terroir. At Bel Lago Vineyards and Winery, perched on the sunny slopes of the Leelanau Peninsula, Charlie Edson, Ph.D. and his wife, Amy Iezzoni, Ph.D., took an early interest in experimenting with different varieties of cherry to see which best expressed a taste of the region.
Initially, Edson experimented with Montmorencies, but later, in the early 2000s, Iezzoni introduced both Balaton and Danube tart cherries—both Hungarian morello types—to the Michigan cherry industry. With the new Balatons, winemakers like Edson found the perfect canvas for blends. “Montmorency brings the appealing, bright, fresh cherry-pie aromas to the blend, and Balaton contributes great color and richness and a hint of spice,” he says, adding how Bel Lago’s most popular cherry wine is a blend of the two varieties.
Since Iezzoni’s discovery, Balatons have become the region’s go-to fruit for making high-quality cherry wine. They are also the go-to for Aurora Cellars and Black Star Farms, which is one of Northwest Michigan’s leading producers of grape wines as well as cherry wines, located about 17 miles east of the Good Harbor Basin on the Old Mission AVA. “It's a dark tart cherry,” says Lee Lutes, winemaker at Black Star Farms. “It’s got an almost Christmas spice, a bit of cinnamon, and a touch of something savory. That’s just a part of the fruit.”
Black Star’s cherry wine tastes like fresh fruit off the tree. Its color is similar to a young Burgundy with slight blue-red hues that take on a patina with age. “We [also] work with a black sweet cherry variety, known as Ulster, that’s a beautiful eating cherry but also a nice dark, rich, deep fruited cherry for dessert wine–we fortify it with the same brandy that comes from those cherries,” says Lutes. Black Star’s Sirius Cherry Dessert Wine is then barrel aged for two to five years.
Lutes says Northern Michigan’s unique climate is what makes it a special place for high quality tart cherry production, especially Montmorency and Balatons. “It’s a combination of a cool climate, fertile soils, plenty of spring/summer sun, and plenty of moisture throughout the year to keep trees/vines healthy,” he says. Even though the area is known for its severe winters, “for me, it is most critical that we have these cooler temps, as our acid is retained nicely to balance the natural sweetness of the fruit.”
For entrepreneur Bob Sutherland, cherries represented an opportunity to create a business dedicated solely to the area’s most popular crop. He founded Cherry Republic in 1989, with few funds, massive cherry cookies, and a trunk full of T-shirts with the slogan "Life, Liberty, Beaches and Pie.” Before opening his first brick-and-mortar, he sold products amongst the log cabins and beach stores of Glen Arbor, a small beach town just 27 miles from Traverse City.
When Sutherland ventured into selling cherry products, the cherry market was at a low point. He had read an article about a cherry farmer who fed cherries to his cattle because there was no market for them. “Bob felt like that was an assault on cherry farmers so he started making more products,” says Sara Harding, vice president of climate and community at Cherry Republic.
In 2004, Sutherland noticed that cherry wine’s popularity was growing with tourists looking for a cherry tipple to try in cherry country. He felt that his business wouldn’t be complete without including some in his growing line, so he partnered with the wineries Bel Lago and Aurora Cellars to produce a house label. Since then, Cherry Republic has expanded its offerings to include 18 different varietals, now sold in eight shops in cities including Traverse City and Ann Arbor.
Cherry wine is an obvious sell for tourists, Harding says, but for locals it has also found a place with those looking for something easy to drink, dependably delicious, and fruit-forward. Cherry wine is also more cost-friendly than local grape-based wines, which generally run over $30 a bottle. “Michigan wines are expensive to make, so they're more expensive at the store. It tends to not be that everyday consumer wine,” says Harding. Most of Cherry Republic’s cherry wine sells for under $20 a bottle, aside from its special ice wine, which sells for $62.
Business, Harding adds, is doing just fine. “We’ve definitely seen a growth, particularly in the stores where we do wine tastings,” says Harding. At the Glen Arbor location, customers can sit outside and enjoy tasting cherry wine as if they’re at any other winery. “It really adds to the overall experience of coming to the Cherry Republic,” says Harding.
Despite cherry wine’s ubiquity in the “upper mitten,” today Northern Michigan is known more famously for its grape wine production, which dates back to 1974, when Edward O'Keefe of Chateau Grand Traverse started cultivating vitis vinifera to take advantage of the area's mild climate and terroir. By the 1980s, both the Old Mission and Leelanau peninsulas earned official status as American Viticultural Areas–the former now boasts 11 wineries, while Leelanau has 28. By 2005, the state’s wine industry was worth $300 million, soaring to $6.33 billion by 2022.
O’Keefe’s gamble sparked a movement that is still drawing adventurous winemakers to the region today, and as the category grows, so too does the demand for quality and the drive to make wines that compete with other major AVAs in the United States. Northern Michigan winemakers and drinkers now see their region as a serious contender for fine wines, especially Alsatian varieties such as Riesling and Gewürztraminer.
Amongst this growth, cherry wine stands at a slight disadvantage. For some critics, the style is an outdated piece of the region’s agricultural pie—a gimmick that has outstayed its welcome. “I wouldn’t say it's the [sommeliers] of the world or the wine writers that are absolutely geeked about it,” Lutes says. “There’re a lot of winemakers up here who would prefer that it didn’t have a place at all because they see it as an inferior product,” a more simplistic one, with less depth and complexity than well-made grape wines.
This impression isn’t entirely unfounded. There are over a thousand varieties of grapes that go into winemaking, all grown in different environmental conditions all over the world. “While terroir affects cherry trees, it has a more profound impact on grape wines,” says Michael A. Schafer Esq. of TheWineCounselor.com. “The same vine, say, Sauvignon Blanc, planted near a cherry orchard, will have a much different nose and flavor than the same vine planted next to a peach orchard.”
Another difference that adds to grape wine’s complexity is aging, which allows some grape wines to develop incredible complexity over time. “Cherry wines not so much,” says Schafer, adding the quick caveat: “I'm not belittling cherry wine at all. In fact, I've enjoyed some delectable cherry wine.”
By the numbers, grape wine makes up the vast majority of wine sales in the region—for example at Black Star Farms, cherry wine sits at about 2-3% of wine sales—but for winemakers such as Lutes, Simpson, and Edson, the grape and cherry wine industries don’t compete. Instead, they complement one another. “Being in the Midwest, we still see a lot of people who have never been in a tasting room before, or it’s maybe their first experience coming to a winery, period, and they’re not really sure of what they like in the way of wine,” says Lutes, who adds how, if they ever run out of cherry wine at Black Star Farms, they never hear the end of the complaints.
Cherry wine also tends to have a different customer base than grape-based wine—namely, drinkers who prefer something a little more fruit-forward and sweeter—so there is little crossover between the two markets. “If anything, I think the expansion of the wineries in Northwest Lower Michigan may be a good thing, bringing more wine drinkers in to visit the area, perhaps trying local grape and cherry wines for the first time,” says Sara Harding of Cherry Republic. For her, the shop has successfully demonstrated that solid promotion and good quality products can have long-lasting positive effects on the market.
Cherry wine’s place can also be found at many of Traverse City’s fine-dining restaurants, where almost every chef or bartender has looked at the beverage as the perfect local mixology super-ingredient or secret marinade. “We used to have a chef who would do a pig roast with us every summer, and he would baste the whole pig with our cherry wine, and continue to baste it throughout the cooking process. It was so good,” says Lutes.
All of these factors combine to indicate that the community in Northwest Michigan won’t let go of the beverage any time soon, if they can help it. “If a cherry wine is well made, and there is a market that supports its production, I am of the mindset that we are simply providing the consumer with something they choose to support and we should not be making value judgements about their choices,” says Lutes.
Yet whether the beverage wins over educated drinkers or not isn’t the only concern in cherry wine country. “Right now, it’s existential,” says Simpson. “The market pressures in the industry are not favorable, there are imports from Turkey that are crushing the pricing, and basically, the economics are upside down, the cost of farming is twice what people are being paid…things can’t continue as is.”
Lately, periods of warm weather in early spring have caused cherry buds to emerge earlier than usual. When the frozen temperatures return, which is predictable, the buds freeze to death. (Abnormal temperature swings in 2002 and 2012 proved to be disastrous, with over 95% of both year’s potential cherry crop destroyed). Plus, new diseases like the fungal pathogen cherry leaf spot are causing trees to defoliate, which can threaten entire crops by leaving the trees susceptible to winter injury and mortality.
“If anything, I think the expansion of the wineries in Northwest Lower Michigan may be a good thing, bringing more wine drinkers in to visit the area, perhaps trying local grape and cherry wines for the first time.”
“We also have issues with an invasive insect pest, spotted wing drosophila, and this insect develops faster with higher temperatures and relative humidity,” says Nikki Rothwell, extension specialist and horticulture research center coordinator for Michigan State University. “This insect can go through a generation every seven days, so you can see that it can be a huge issue for growers.”
There’s also a local housing crisis. “Cherries have been grown as a commodity crop for a long time and, unfortunately, every great orchard is also a great home site,” says Lutes. Developers pay farmers huge sums of money for their properties on the Old Mission and Leelanau peninsulas. For farmers aging out of active farming who don’t have family to pass it down to, selling becomes an easy decision.
For example, in 2019, fourth-generation cherry farm Christmas Cove Farm put up their 66 acre cherry and fruit farm for $525,000. That same year, one of the largest cherry farms on the Old Mission Peninsula, the fourth-generation Fouch Orchards, sold off their cherry farm and invited the public on social media to come with buckets to collect around 80,000 pounds of tart cherries that would otherwise have to be dumped because they couldn’t be sold.
“This is a cherry-producing region—there are cherry products everywhere here, from dried cherries to cherry-themed clothing and everything in between. This will not change as long as cherry trees are being grown in our community and we are known as the cherry capital of the world.”
Businesses like Cherry Republic are also seeing employees relocate because of the lack of affordable housing in the area. “How do we preserve the farmland yet have attainable housing to support the people working here?” says Harding, adding how Cherry Republic is fighting the battle on both fronts by donating 1% of its profits to farmland preservation and building affordable housing for its employees.
While the reasons for doom and gloom seem to be mounting, some think the key to preserving the cherry industry may lie in the fruit’s health benefits.“There has been quite a bit of research backing up their health properties,” says Chris Bardenhagen, Michigan State University Extension’s farm management educator and a lifelong cherry farmer. Tart cherries contain vitamin C, vitamin A, and copper, but it’s the fruit’s flavonoids, including anthocyanins–which have anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties that give the fruit their crimson pigmentation and power to lower blood pressure, reduce heart disease risk, slow cancer growth, and prevent neurological diseases–that make health experts take notice.
While most of these properties can’t be considered “healthy” once the fruits are fermented into an alcohol-based beverage, as more people make the pilgrimage to Northern Michigan’s wine country to build their dream homes by the lake, farmers and winemakers are banking on the fruit’s attractiveness as a healthy ingredient to keep the cherry industry itself afloat.
From there, cherry wine will hopefully continue to hold its own in the face of so much change. “My hope is that cherry wine becomes a product that helps cherry farmers sustain,” says Simpson. “I think there will always be a demand for fruit wine, [in which case] cherry wine will have a niche that can continue to grow.”
According to other winemakers, even though it’s not as popular as grape-based wine or beer in the area, cherry wine will be around as long as the cherry industry itself is—because, after all, people still want to drink it. “This is a cherry-producing region—there are cherry products everywhere here, from dried cherries to cherry-themed clothing and everything in between,” says Lutes. “This will not change as long as cherry trees are being grown in our community and we are known as the Cherry Capital of the World.”
Words by Matthew DursumPhotos by Beth Price
