I first encountered biodynamics before fully stepping into the wine world, on a dairy farm outside of Phoenixville, PA. At the time, I was researching a story on local agriculture, and this mission had taken me to Seven Stars Farm, a producer of biodynamic yogurt.

It was a mysterious concept, to say the least.  Pioneered by the Austrian philosopher/scientist Rudolf Steiner, the basic concepts of biodynamic agriculture seemed simple enough: treat the farm as an organism and keep the inputs and outputs to a minimum. On a dairy farm, this entailed growing all the hay and alfalfa for feed on site, while eschewing chemical and even organic fertilizer in favor of manure from the herd. So far, so good. This seemed to be in line with the spirit of organic farming, a subject with which I had some familiarity.

Other elements of biodynamic farming seemed a little, well, out-there. The farmers told me that, based on the seasons, certain preparations—often resembling potions—are sprayed directly into the manure or soil to promote healthy development of the land and the crops.

But I was slow to make the connection between the work being done on biodynamic farms and the world of biodynamic viticulture. I simply assumed that, when applied to wine, the term “biodynamic” was the equivalent of “organic plus”—not just adherence to the legal regulations that govern organic farming and viticulture, but a desire to embrace the concepts of sustainability and proper stewardship of the land more thoroughly.

I shouldn’t have been so surprised, especially if I thought carefully about how many of the pioneering biodynamic wineries are based in Europe, where Steiner’s ideas have long carried greater influence. While the bulk of his thought concerned the idea of “spiritual science”—the unity between the natural world and the spiritual world—Steiner turned to agriculture later in his life with his Spiritual Foundations for the Renewal of Agriculture. In these eight lectures, delivered in 1924, Steiner took a holistic view of agriculture, situating the farm in “the wider context of lunar and cosmic rhythms.” Steiner treated soil as an organism, just like the plants that it nurtures.

Hence, the potions: Steiner prescribed nine different preparations to aid soil fertility—two to be applied to fields and seven to be applied to manure. How does cow manure, placed in a cow horn then buried underground to ferment over the winter, sound to you? After being unearthed in the spring, the manure is then diluted, stirred so that it is “activated,” and then sprayed across the fields. Or oak bark, fermented in the skull of a domestic animal, again buried, then placed deep into a pile of dung. You get the picture.

Much of this might seem like complete nonsense, if it weren’t for the fact that some of the wineries that are employing these practices are making great, even incredible, wine. Take Nicholas Joly, in the Loire Valley, who doesn’t just make earthy, wild Chenin Blanc through purely biodynamic practices, he’s also written three books on the subject: most recently Biodynamic Wine, Demystified. Working in the underappreciated appellation of Savennieres, Joly crafts wine that inspire religious feeling in some folks.

Or consider Domaine Leroy, in Burgundy. Lalou Bize-Leroy farms 23 hectares of vines biodynamically, and many critics find her wines among the best red Burgundies out there. No less of an authority than Clive Coates writes that “the greatest domains of Burgundy today must be those under the control of Lalou. The sheer concentration, depth, and intensity [she] manages to squeeze into her bottles is breathtaking.” Maybe there is something to these preparations.

Some Americans have also jumped on the bandwagon. DeLoach Vineyeards in the Russian River Valley recently spent multiple years converting 17 acres for biodynamic viticulture. This process entailed planting two seasons of cover crops even before the vineyard could be replanted with Chardonnay and Pinot Noir vines. The first wines from these converted vineyards have yet to make it to the marketplace, so we can’t gauge the success of the experiment yet. But it will be undoubtedly interesting to see (and taste) what their results are like.

One can easily play Devil’s Advocate and argue these various infusions of preparations, calculations based on the cycles of the moon, and other esoteric measures are hokum. Maybe so. But if there’s one thing these biodynamic wineries aren’t doing, it’s pumping loads of chemicals into the earth. This restraint is likely to raise costs, and might increase susceptibility to disease, especially in damper regions like Burgundy. But if a buried cow horn stuffed with manure and a controversial philosophy are inducements for winemakers to treat their land less like a factory, it’s tough to poke too much fun at the specifics.