A Slate of Decay

There's an oft expressed, somewhat romantic notion that wine, once in the bottle, takes on a life of its own, riding a curve not unlike that of most other life forms from infancy to youth, from young-adulthood through to maturity, old age, and eventual expiration.  I'm a romantic myself, in many senses of the term, and as such I'm not inclined to disagree with the idea that wine is, or at least should seem to be if it's any good, alive.  There's certainly a transformative process innate to wine—from grapes on the vine, through fermentation and aging, to a beverage, an end point more different from than similar to the starting point—that supports the notion of life in the bottle.

Just as strong an argument can be made, though, that grapes, once plucked from their vines, are dead, just like flowers, stems clipped for display in a vase.  Such an argument might continue that making those grapes into wine is a way of trying to preserve the life that once was, of slowing—to a certain extent even controlling—the decay that inevitably ensues.

Semi-relevant interlude (right down to the slate) courtesy of Good Grape.

Perhaps a more holistic way of looking at it would be to picture the evolution of wine on the classic (and admittedly over generalizing) bell curve.  In such an evolution, wine could be said to take its start as a rebirth of the fruit on the vine.  Once fermented, vinified and bottled, its life forces ride the surge toward the crest of the wave.  Decay eventually ensues, leading down the slippery slope toward the inescapable flat line.

The problem with that scenario is that it creates the idea of a perfect moment. How do you know when a wine is ready to drink, when it's at its peak?  Really, one never does.  But the expectation of capturing that moment, of patiently chasing it, holding one's breath in anticipation of it, can lead to a kind of fear or exaggerated expectancy that all too often makes wine exploration more an obsessive venture than an enjoyable one.

The trick to truly enjoying wine, getting the most out of it, is to drink it.  Stop obsessing over it.  You're in the mood to check out that lone bottle of '05 Grand Cru Burgundy you bought, even though you think it might not be "ready"?  Just do it.  A friend came over and you'd really like to pop the cork on your last bottle of  '89 Bordeaux from Château X, even though you've been saving it for a "special" occasion? Pop that cork.  Keep imagining the scenarios for not opening a bottle—from infanticide, to price vs. situation concerns, to the ideal day on the biodynamic calendar—and just open that bottle.

This is all a strong argument for buying multiple bottles of any given wine.  Drink some now, save some for later.  Use your memory or compare notes to learn about how the wine evolves over time.  Of course it helps if the wine in question is only $12.50 per/bottle (see below)....  There are some well-respected wine writers out there who counsel others not to buy wines that they can't afford to buy by the case, or at least in quantities of three or four.  I don't always follow that advice, as it would prevent me from experiencing too many wines that I really want to try.  But I still stand by that advice, particularly for those who are looking to build and sustain cellars that will actually reward their drinking patterns.  Here's a case in point:

Saar Kanzemer Sonnenberg Riesling Kabinett trocken, Johann Peter Reinert 2001
$12.50 on release.  10% alcohol.  Cork.  Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
It could be argued that I drank more than my fair share of Johann Peter Reinert's '01 Kabinett trocken when it was first released.  Why not?  At $12.50 a bottle, it was a solid value and a clear reminder that Riesling is not only incredibly versatile at the table but also can indeed be bone, bone dry.  I drank another bottle or two midway through the gap between '02/'03 and now, then semi-intentionally left one alone for later investigation.

Without the residual sugar of a fruity-style Kabinett or the intensity of physical extract of a Spatlese or Auslese trocken, a Riesling Kabinett trocken, particularly from a marginal viticultural area like the Saar, relies primarily on its acidity, along with its harmony and balance (without which the equation crumbles) for preservation. Reinert, who specializes more in feinherb and fruchtig style Rieslings, generally produces lower-pradikat trocken Rieslings only in vintages when he feels the balance is right.

Even with that fine original balance, I suspected that nine years from the vintage might be pushing things a bit—again, I'd saved this one half intentionally, to learn from its progress, and half accidentally, passing over it many a time in favor of something else that seemed right in the moment—and I was right, in a way at least.  The wine has clearly entered a state of decay.  Gone was its pale color of youth, replaced by a lightly burnished gold in the glass.  Gone too was the nerve of youth, its acidity now completely relaxed, almost slack. What trace of fruitiness remained was, coincidentally, most clearly reminiscent of another, much quicker path to decay, that of a clementine left a little too long on the counter, still edible but not as bright and juicy as when at its peak of ripeness.

While the pleasure in drinking may have changed, it hadn't disappeared.  Perhaps that's partially me, as I like to experiment and am very open to seeing what happens to a wine as it takes on air over the course of days in an open bottle, or develops over the course of years in the cellar.  It's also certainly part of the magic of good German Riesling.  There are few other wines so capable of clearly expressing their origins.  If you've drunk young Rieslings and doubted that conclusion, try leaving a few good ones longer than you'd normally think sensible.  In this case, in spite of the decay in the fruit and structural departments, there was a clear sense of the wine's origins, of slate, of oily, diesel-like characteristics (some call it truffle-y).  It was as if the wine was fighting the bell curve and instead going full circle, returning to the earth from which it was first born—like it or not, a beautiful thing.

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More Deliciousness from Florian and Peter Lauer

Here's a not-so-little something I've been wanting to try ever since first drinking its "junior" brother last winter.

Just as the lead-in sentence above is a riff on the opening line of last year's post on Weingut Peter Lauer's Riesling "Senior" Fass 6, I could almost get away with copying and pasting in the note from 6 for its big brother, Florian and Peter Lauer's Riesling "Unterstenbersch" Fass 12. The two wines share more in common than they do in the way of difference.  That's not to say there aren't differences, though, significant ones at that.  Besides, you knew I wouldn't take such an easy way out, no?

Saar Ayler Kupp Riesling "Unterstenbersch" Faß 12, Weingut Peter Lauer 2008
$36. 11.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Mosel Wine Merchant, via USA Wine Imports, New York, NY.
Florian Lauer's '08 "Unterstenbersch" brims with pungent aromas of slate and apricot kernel, backed up by accents of white asparagus and yellow apple skins.  The overall aromatic sense of the wine suggests richness and at least a little residual sugar, both of which are confirmed as the wine makes its first impressions on the front palate. From there on, though, the wine's fairly muscular acidity and minerality drive that almost opulent opening on through an unctuous center before ending with a quite dry-seeming finish.  To put it into quantifiable qualitatswein terms, it feels to me like a Spätlese feinherb up front, closer to a Spätlese trocken on the finish.

If he could, that's exactly how I think Florian would choose to label his Unterstenbersch bottling; he categorizes it on the winery's website as "trocken bis feinherb" (dry to medium-dry, roughly translated).  However, the German wine authorities tend to frown on such things, so the Lauers omit any dryness designation from their label and simply let the wine speak for itself.

There's a pungency to the wine, as mentioned earlier, that to me is classic to the best wines from the Saar, a saturated mineral character, redolent of the slate from which it stems, with a subtly sour twinge. Drinking the wine makes me want to work a harvest in Kupp, just so I can taste the fruit of the vines in situ and get an even truer sense of the wine's place.

Discipline alone allowed me to save a couple of glasses for a second day, when the wine took on a more relaxed stance, its round, creamy core coming more to the fore.  What it may have lost slightly in nerve , it more than made up for in the aroma department.  Buttercups, golden raisins, golden pear, golden apples... it seems the color choice for the Fass 12 label is quite apropos — even if it is meant to signify "Unterstenbersch" as one of the Lauers' alte reben (old vine), top cru bottlings, rather than to symbolize its flavor palette.

Buried beneath all that mineral depth and fruit intensity was a subtle yet telltale whiff of sponti character, the aromatic signature that confirms that Florian ferments his wines on their native yeasts.  It's very inconspicuous, though, noticeable, if at all, only as an added nuance, not as a primary signature.  And lying on top if it all, equally quiet in demeanor, was just the slightest whiff of sulfur.  Far from enough to be off-putting, I expect it should pass even further from notice with more time in the bottle.

As long as I'm dabbling in technical info here, it bears pointing out that Florian has a relatively light hand with sulfur, especially when compared to more typical levels used for off-dry wines in Germany.  Dan Melia, the US-based half of the Mosel Wine Merchant team, tells me that Lauer sulfurs only once, a few weeks prior to bottling, adding about 45 ppm of SO2, in the case of Unterstenbersch, to help ensure stability on the bottling line and through the rigors of shipping and storage.

And as long as I'm dabbling in over-the-top tasting notes, I'll add that as the wine opened even further, as that last glass took on air, I picked up a delicate spiciness together with a marmalade-like flavor that made me wonder if there might not have been a small percentage of botrytis influenced fruit in the vats.

Lest you think all this detail somehow sucked the joy out of the experience of drinking the wine, let me assure you that nothing could be further from the truth.  The wine showed all of these things to me, compelled me to sniff, taste and feel them.  As murky or convoluted as my notes may seem, the wine itself was sheer transparency, totally clear in its expression.

Where it differs from "Senior" most is in the scope of that expression.  Where "Senior" was forward, Unterstenbersch was more reserved.  Where the former was more immediately generous, the latter proved just as rewarding and will likely pay greater dividends further down the road.  I'm sure that the 60 year-old vines in the Unterstenbersch parcel play a role in the wine's stature, but then "Senior" includes fruit from even older vines.  Perhaps the aging regime for Unterstenbersch — 100% in old oak fuder as opposed to the mixture of oak and tank employed for Senior — lends it some of its greater impenetrability and inner density.  Most importantly, though, the wine reflects its site.  Unterstenbersch, as Lars Carlberg tells us on the Mosel Wine Merchant blog, is local dialect for unter dem Berg (“at the foot of the hill”), and an old, unofficial name for the plot at the base of the Ayler Kupp from which this wine is produced.  The Lauers consider it a grand cru site and, to me at least, that stature of character speaks through their wine.

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On Obscure Vines: Elbling

Story has it that Johann Peter Reinert, most of whose estate is situated in the town of Kanzem along Germany's Saar river, travels by tractor along the main road from Kanzem to the Upper Mosel in order to work a small plot of vines he owns on the hillsides above the town of Igel. It's his only plot of vines not situated in the Saar. Traffic backs up for miles, all in the name of keeping an old, increasingly rare tradition alive.

The chalk based soils in Igel are inhospitable to Riesling, which won't properly ripen. Reinert instead makes the long, slow drive to tend his tiny plot of Elbling, a vine that has been planted there since Roman times yet today wallows in relative obscurity — as Jancis Robinson describes it in her Guide to Wine Grapes, "a [vine] to appeal to viticultural archivists." Outside of the Upper Mosel, Elbling's only other major plantations are to be found in Luxembourg, where it is known as Räifrench.

Most of the approximately 1,100 hectares of Elbling planted in the Saar is destined for inclusion in sparkling wine, where its natural tendencies toward high yields and high acidity serve both economically and structurally useful purposes. It takes dedicated farming to turn out still wines of any character from Elbling and the effort yields little in the way of financial return. As a result, very few producers make the effort. Reinert is one of a tiny handful doing so; only six are listed on CellarTracker and I doubt there are very many more. For Reinert, though, working his plot of Elbling is something of a labor of passion. The vines came to him through marriage from his wife's side of the family and he perseveres with production of his Elbling trocken to produce a "summer wine" evocative of his wife's childhood memories.

Mosel Igeler Dullgärten Elbling trocken, Weingut Johann Peter Reinert 2008
$14. 12% alcohol. Diam. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Light as mineral water in the glass, with just a bare suggestion of green-gold hue. The nose is at first a little grapey, then give up scents of white peaches, followed by a dash of szechuan peppercorn and fresh-ground ginger. First and foremost, this is refreshing wine, driven by a raspy, mineral-faceted texture and a very dry, slightly tart finish. With any but the simplest, mild flavored food — I think this would be at its best with filets of trout sauteed in butter, nothing else — the subtlety of its fruit is more or less washed away, leaving behind a vigorous, entirely refreshing mineral wash.

In its second day, the wine took on a little more flesh, showing some green pear fruit, but at the expense of diminished vigor and minerality. A background whiff of egg-y sulfur that I hadn't noticed on day one emerged and it also became clearer, perhaps too due to a slightly warmer serving temperature, that 12% alcohol was a bit heavy for the wine's wiry frame. In both cases, though, these quibbles were not so strong or obvious as to render the wine unpleasurable. Indeed, though much simpler and more direct than Reinert's Saar Rieslings, his Elbling is quite the satisfying thirst quencher. Just right for ice-cold summer quaffing. Of course, I chose to drink it on a couple of ice cold nights in February....

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On a related note, I couldn't help but notice that Reinert's Elbling was sealed with a Diam.

Reinert also alternates between using natural corks and the Vinolok for his various Rieslings. I couldn't think of many if any other producers that — various qualities of cork aside, and not including sparkling wine stoppers — are using three entirely different closure systems. The fact that he's working with so many closure types while farming a total of only 4.2 hectares of vines makes me wonder if he'll eventually choose to stop with natural corks entirely or, conversely, to move exclusively to either the Diam or the Vinolok for his alternative closure of choice.

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Peter Lauer's Riesling "Senior" Fass 6

Here's a little something I've been wanting to try ever since first reading about it at the Mosel Wine Merchant blog. MWM principal Lars Carlberg's writeup goes well beyond describing the wine in question; it also details the history of the pertinent vineyard, maps out its various parcels and even gets into the etymology of the names given to each part of the site. If this is salesmanship, it's salesmanship at its best, and a textbook example of what — along with the regularly featured, stunning photography by Lars' friend, Tobias Hannemann — makes the MWM blog one of my required reads. It's the kind of post that really gets my mouth watering.

I had only to wait for the wine to enter the US market, then for a bottle to make its way into my shopping cart and, from there, eventually to find its way onto my own table....


Saar Ayler Kupp Riesling "Senior" Faß 6, Weingut Peter Lauer 2008
$26. 11.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Mosel Wine Merchant, via USA Wine Imports, New York, NY.
Showing gorgeous clarity in the glass, "Senior" delivers a deeply penetrating nose of minerals, green aples and gooseberry. Those aromas actually set up much steelier expectations relative to what first meets the palate, as there's some serious richness to the wine's mouthfeel. Behind that weight, though, is a blade of acidity that drives waves of lemon-lime fruit across the tongue, leading to a long, sweet-and-sour lemon drop finish.

As Lars mentioned in his post, "Senior" is "dry-tasting" for a wine that, with 13 grams of residual sugar, is technically halbtrocken. Yet to my palate, it's not quite "trocken-tasting," either. Though Florian Lauer designates the wine as trocken (I wonder if it's labeled that way on the German market), here in the US there is no dryness designation at all, save what can be guessed at via the wine's stated alcohol level. In the end, classic Saar delicacy and acid/sweetness balance wins out, but there's no mistaking the fact that Lauer's old vines (80-90 years) have delivered intense physiological extract.

A day later, the wine's aromas had shifted more into the dark end of the slate and mineral spectrum, also moving away from citrus and toward pit fruit scents of canned peach and fresh apricot. Showing less zingy, more muscular acidity, the wine was indeed more clearly dry tasting, day one's confectioner's dusting having disappeared/integrated into the wine's core.

I'd love to drink this with pan-seared scallops in a beurre blanc sauce. Or perhaps pair it, as I did with the similarly balanced bottle of Emrich-Schönleber's "Lenz" that I wrote up not long ago, with a simple dinner of pork chops and baked potatoes. On this occasion, I enjoyed it with two entirely different dishes: cheese and onion pierogies with peas and sautéed onions on day one, and green chile and cheese tamales on day two. Just for fun, anyone care to guess which pairing worked better... and hazard an explanation as to why?

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Johann Peter Reinert, Patrice Rion and René Renou – Notes from a Sunday

Today’s notes all go back to the same Sunday session from which yesterday’s write-up of Jacky Truchot originated. Though I initially intended to cover all four wines at once, the Truchot piece – once I got rolling with it – quickly took on a life of its own. I wouldn’t want the other three wines to feel neglected (though one of them would have been better left alone), so here we go….

Saar Wiltinger Schlangenbraben Riesling Spätlese, Johann Peter Reinert 1993
$18 on release. 8.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Much more developed than when last tasted about two years ago. Fully mature but not showing the petrol aromas so common to old Saar wines; instead, its bouquet is loaded with scents of orange oil and white flowers, along with a suggestion of partially botrytis-affected fruit that I hadn’t picked up in the past. Its texture was very soft and comforting, though it was certainly not without grip. The wine’s mineral and fruit-driven flavors have completely integrated, rendering a slightly saline, savory core. Preserved lemons, wintergreen, sweet dill and nougat all emerged as the wine developed in the glass, with a slow move toward room temperature revealing the wine’s acidity and mineral depth even more clearly than when cool. Quite delicious (that should be clear, I hope), though I believe it has reached its full potential.


Nuits-Saint-Georges Premier Cru “Clos des Argillières,” Domaine Michèle & Patrice Rion 2001
$52 on release. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
While I ended up comparing the wines of Jacky Truchot with those of David Duband in yesterday’s post, this is the wine we actually tasted alongside Truchot’s Chambolle. Totally different terroir and very different winemaking approach, but it’s still educational to taste comparatively like this. Though three years older, Patrice Rion’s wine is younger in its developmental curve and is still in a fairly reductive state. Quite tight when first uncorked, it then opened up relatively quickly, revealing aromas of tobacco and concentrated black fruit, along with plenty of firm, spicy plum and blackberry fruit on the palate. A half-hour later, though, it shut right back down. “Les Argillières” is considered by many to be one of the top, if not the top, crus in the commune of Prémeaux, located at the southern end of Nuits-Saint-Georges. (The ½ acre “Les Argillières” and 10.4 acre “Clos des Argillières” are two climats within the same Premier Cru.) Patrice’s wine is showing more force than finesse at the moment but it does suggest the potential for better things to come with age.


Bonnezeaux “Tri de Vendanges,” René Renou 1999
$13 on closeout. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Robert Kacher, Washington, DC.
The color was fine – lighter than expected if anything – but that’s about the only positive thing I can say for this. Flabby and smelling of paint, rotten corn and, vaguely, vomit. I didn't expect much given the closeout price... but what the hell happened here?

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Hana and von Hövel

Sometimes simple is best.

It’s remarkable how the most authentic restaurants – much like the most expressive or individualistic wines – polarize their audiences. The clearer the voice, the more people seem to either love it or hate it, leaving very little room for the middle ground. So I couldn’t help but chuckle at what I found today when looking up the phone number for Hana, one of my favorite Japanese restaurants on the non-Jersey side of the Philly burbs.


Hana may not easily win your heart. It’s not at the level of the Jersey spots – Fuji and Sagami – I hinted at above. And Hana’s not likely to win awards. It’s a non-descript looking restaurant located in a non-descript strip mall on a busy, commercial stretch of road. There’s nothing flashy about its interior: just a few basic booths and tables, a five-seat sushi bar, a couple of hanging paper lamps and neutral walls decorated with a modicum of traditional Japanese artwork and knickknacks. And there’s nothing flashy about the food. The rolls don’t have cute names and don’t sprout spines or include intentionally international ingredients. There aren’t any sushi “boats” or any strips of plastic grass adorning the plates. No spicy mayo or cream cheese oozing here and there, either.

What you get is simple food – spartan almost – that’s simply prepared. It’s fresh, pure of flavor and clearly made with care. It’s not all about the sushi and sashimi, though they’re very good. The cooked dishes are also excellent, from belly warming tempura udon to handmade pork shumai to perfectly pickled and refreshing vegetable sunomono. The service is quiet – never forward but always attentive. I’ve not been to Japan but something tells me this is the real deal, a notion seconded by old friends who eat at Hana and have spent time in Japan.

I love it. But apparently, lots of people hate it. Citysearch is not a site I ever use intentionally but it appeared at the top of the Google listings recently when I searched for “Hana Japanese restaurant Wayne PA.” All I wanted was a phone number. What I found was a bunch of user reviews that careened from spiteful to glowing then right back to downright awful.

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Sometimes simple can be complicated.

Hana is a BYOB spot. When I go there, I invariably take Riesling. It’s become a stereotypical pairing with all variety of Asian cuisines. In this case, the stereotype delivers substance.

Saar Riesling, von Hövel 2007
$17. 8% alcohol. Screwcap. Importer: Rudi Wiest, Cellars International, San Marcos, CA.
A growing number of respected wineries in Germany are producing simple, value-oriented bottlings for the export market. A quick look at the front label of this example from Weingut von Hövel reveals little other than the producer’s name and the grape in the bottle, Riesling in this case. There’s also a pretty picture, a definite change from the classically prosaic labeling style used by most producers for their higher-level wines. In at least one sense, this simplicity no doubt works in the wine’s favor, as people who have developed a comfort level with Riesling (but perhaps not with the complexities of German labeling syntax) are likely to be drawn to the bottle. That simplicity also works in the winery’s favor, as the lack of any village, vineyard or Pradikat designation leaves the producer free to blend wines from multiple sites and, if deemed necessary, to chaptalize.

That very simplicity, though, is just as likely to be misunderstood, to play right into unjust stereotypes. A savvy Riesling shopper might spot the 8% alcohol level designated in small print on the back label of the bottle and surmise that the presence of residual sugar is a strong likelihood. Given the simplicity of the front label, though, the absence of any equally simple mention of style (dry, off-dry, etc.) is very likely to result in misunderstanding. The same people that dismiss Hana for its lack of flash or its dainty portions – or anyone, for that matter – might be just as likely to write-off von Hövel’s Riesling because it’s light or, more likely, because it’s “sweet.” And that would be a shame.

Von Hövel’s Saar Riesling is simplicity embodied. It’s light, direct and easy to like. And yes, it’s a little sweet. But it’s a classic expression of Saar Riesling, its hint of sweetness balanced by wiry acidity and its finish crackling with pungent, slate-y minerality. That gentle sweetness helps the wine work with the vinegar in sunomono. Its acidity provides lift to the weight of the rice (just a touch gummy and under-seasoned on our most recent visit to Hana) in nigiri and provides more than enough cut for the natural oils of salmon, hamachi and other salt water fish. The wine’s vaguely sour minerality intertwines effortlessly with the flavors of the sea expressed in sushi and sashimi. Its pretty expression of apples, white peaches and lemons does not overwhelm the palate. And its overall delicacy is in fine balance with the grace and harmony of a typical Japanese meal.

It’s a pure, expressive wine. And much like a no-nonsense, traditional Japanese restaurant, it's just as likely to be despised as it is to be embraced.

Hana
387 W. Lancaster Avenue [map]
Wayne, PA 19087
610-687-3320

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Going Through the Change, or Hitting Riesling in Its Sweet Spot

I made an unspoken – at least I think it was unspoken – resolution around this time last year to taste more Riesling in 2008, to explore wines from producers new to me. I’m not sure how good a job I did of it but, hey, slow progress is better than no progress. One thing the goal didn’t stop me from doing was continuing to explore and enjoy wines from the German producers who have been near and dear for many a year. And I happen to have alit upon a particular high point just as ‘08 was coming to its close….

Saar Wiltinger Schlangengraben Riesling Kabinett, Johann Peter Reinert 2004
$14. 8.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
I consider myself lucky when I catch Riesling in its sweet spot, as it’s going through the change – the change from its fruit-forward, frank youth to its dark, truffled, rounded maturity. When you catch a good bottle in transition, it can display the best elements of both ends of the spectrum.

I also love the Saar wines of Johann Peter Reinert. They don’t seem to get a lot of play; they’re kind of off the radar. But they’re pure and expressive, whether trocken, feinherb or fully fruchtig (the German term for delicately sweet wines), whether Spätlese, Auslese or Eiswein. It’s his Kabinett Rieslings, though, that I really dig. They’re real Kabinetts – light, graceful and crystalline – that are perfect as aperitifs and also eminently food friendly.

Reinert’s 2004 Kabinett from the Wiltinger vineyard Schlangengraben (yeah, it’s a name that inspires sophomoric jokes – it means “serpent’s den” in German) is in that ideal ‘tweener spot right now. Its color has taken on a pale yellow hue, darker than its original white light. The nose delivers an immediate wallop of petrol-rich minerality while second and third inhalations uncover rich scents of apricots and golden peaches. Eyeing the glass again, with a backdrop of light, there’s a slight appearance of effervescence. That trace of residual carbon dioxide is still apparent on the tongue, combining with the wine’s scintillating acidity to balance and, really, wipe away any impression of sweetness stemming from natural residual sugar.

And that youthful, crystalline acidity delivers the first notes on the palate – clementine, blood orange and clove. It then finishes with rounder, more mature acids that bring back the flavors of stone fruit hinted at earlier by the wine’s aromatic profile. It’s delicious stuff and, at only 8.5% alcohol, superbly drinkable. On day two it showed even better, if that’s possible. Nothing different really, just a magnification and refinement, an additional layering of all the good stuff that showed up right out of the gates. I have one bottle left and I’ll look forward to its demise in another few years. If only I’d stashed away a case….

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Notes from a 50th Anniversary

On the surface, this may read much like previous installments of Wines with Bill or Notes from a Sunday. This time, though, there was a grander occasion at hand – the 50th wedding anniversary of my buddy Bill’s folks, who were up from North Carolina to celebrate with family. Needless to say, it was my pleasure and honor to be invited. The main point, of course, was to enjoy each other's company, but we did enjoy some good wines along the way.

Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie “Clos des Briords” Vieilles Vignes, Domaine de la Pépière (Marc Olivier) 2005 (from magnum)
This was opened and enjoyed before my arrival but, luckily, my thoughtful hosts had stashed away a bit of the bottle. Classically saline, with a burst of lemon zest on the front palate spreading into a broad, creamy mid-palate, finishing with a knife’s edge of acidity. No surprise, it rocked with the mussels Bill steamed in the same wine, richened up a bit with just a few pats of butter. Why isn’t there more Muscadet available in magnum? $30 (magnum). 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.

Vin de Table Mousseux “Le Vinsans Ricard,” Domaine Ricard NV
More fun with words from young vigneron Vincent Ricard, whose estate is based near the Touraine village of Thésée. To borrow from his own text on the label’s sidebar, this is naturally pétillant Gamay, made without dosage and only lightly filtered. Exuberant and direct, bursting with fresh raspberry and strawberry fruit, accented by a dash of watermelon and mint. Served chilled, on the porch, with barbecued chicken thighs. It’s hard to imagine a better match. $22. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Touraine Pinot Noir Rosé, Domaine des Corbillières 2007
“Le Vinsans” was a tough act to follow, a challenge made tougher by this rosé’s almost total lack of aroma. In the mouth, however, it gave a pleasant enough display of watermelon fruit and mineral character, combined with a vegetal hint that reminded me of boston lettuce. Surprisingly long on the finish and a reasonable match with a very tasty bowl of gazpacho. $12. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Robert Kacher Selections, Washington, DC.

Moulin à Vent Vieilles Vignes “Réserve d’Amélie,” Domaine Gérard Charvet 2004
I was really pleased to see this make an appearance as it had been a couple of years since my last taste. Not as altogether happening as I hoped/expected but there was definitely nothing amiss; the wine’s just in a bit of a dumb phase. Still, it would be a fine antidote for anyone who is still a nonbeliever in the joys of Beaujolais. Granitic minerality layered atop briary, black cherry pit flavors. Lighter than I remembered up front but with a depth of flavor that belies its weight. $16 on release. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Wine Traditions, Falls Church, VA.

Montlouis-sur-Loire "Les Choisilles," François Chidaine 2002
Another wine I hadn’t visited in a while and this time I was very surprised. Much more evolved and oxidative than I would have expected and really not showing very well. Intense grip and some sense of remaining muscular anatomy on the finish but all cobwebs and moth-eaten clothes up front. Wool clothes, that is, given its intensely lanolin nose. I’m still holding a couple of bottles so I’ll have to hope it’s just going through an awkward phase. $23 on release. 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Savennières "Clos de Saint Yves," Domaine du Baumard 1997
This provided an interesting contrast to the Chidaine, at once more evolved in its overall state yet still in possession of greater freshness of feel. Frail, lacy and pretty, with aromas of almond cookies and chamomile tea. To continue the funereal metaphor, more like a well-preserved skeleton, dressed in a silk chemise. $25. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Ex Cellars, Solvang, CA.

The two Chenins were paired up with a lovely selection of cheeses from the crafty mongers at Talula's Table.
Saar Kanzemer Sonnenberg Riesling Grösses Gewächs, Weingut Johann Peter Reinert 2005
This was opened, in spite of its painful youth, as recompense for the lackluster showings of the two Chenins. My note taking dropped off at this point, so I can only offer some basic, instinctive impressions. Pure nerves of steel, with Reinert’s typical touch of grace and expressive fruit maintained, even given the physiological intensity of what equates to an Auslese trocken from the Saar. Wine to hold and savor. $48. 13% alcohol. Vinolok. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

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Old World Riesling for WBW #45

Call it cheating if you will. I prefer to think of it as synchronicity. Today’s edition of Wine Blogging Wednesday, hosted by Tim Elliott at Winecast, follows just one day after my class on German wines at Tria Fermentation School. And this month’s theme – Old World Riesling – falls right into the core of last night’s curriculum. So, as much as I was tempted to go for the relatively obscure and track down an Italian Riesling or two, it seems much more appropriate to answer the call of chance and write up the German Rieslings that I selected for yesterday’s course.

My objective for the class was to showcase the diversity of wine styles, vines and regions of Germany, and to provide a basic foundation for understanding the terminology found on German labels as well as the regulations that govern and influence contemporary German viticulture. All, mind you, within the context of a 90-minute class. We started off with a Spätburguner from the Mittelrhein, a Rheinpfalz Weißer Burgunder and a Scheurebe from Baden. The rest of the evening was spent exploring the beauty of what I consider to be the world’s most noble white vine – Riesling – grown in the country where it reaches its pinnacle of quality and expression.

Monzinger Frühlingsplätzchen Riesling Kabinett trocken, Weingut Emrich-Schönleber 2006
Werner Schönleber and his son Frank are widely considered to be, along with Dönnhoff, at the top of the game in the Nahe. In recent years, the portfolio of wines they produce has been in constant evolution. At the dry and off-dry ends of the spectrum, they’ve been reducing their number of bottlings and instead focusing on fewer but stronger statements about the terroir of their two estate vineyards: Halenberg and Frühlingsplätzchen. The Kabinett and Spätlese halbtrockens from both vineyards, as well as their basic QbA halbtrocken, already went by the wayside a few years back, replaced by a single wine called “Lenz” (archaic German for Spring). And it appears that 2006 was the last vintage for this, the Kabinett trocken from Frühlingsplätzchen. Going forward, at least for now, they’ll continue to produce their basic QbA trocken, adding a trocken wine called “Mineral” and further consolidating their vineyard designated dry Rieslings. The Pradikat (Kabinett, Spätlese), and presumably the QmP designation, will be dropped and they will produce Frühlingsplätzchen Riesling trocken and Halenberg Riesling trocken. Großes Gewächs wines will continue to be produced from both vineyards, vintage conditions allowing. Confused yet? Or beginning to understand the challenge of cramming an overview of German wines into an hour-and-a-half?

Now, on to the tasting note: this was the most challenging wine of the night, as it is clamped pretty tightly shut at the moment. Lots of lemon zest and grapefruit, along with bright, tingly minerality and a hint of green apples, are carried on a bone dry frame. High acidity is at the forefront, decidedly making this a wine for the dinner table – or for holding for a couple of years. Experience with past vintages has shown this cuvée to evolve positively with a few years in the cellar, unfurling to show broader texture and finer balance. However, the 2006 may be a bit narrower than other recent vintages. $28. 12% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Riesling trocken “von der Fels,” Weingut Keller 2006
This was one of two non-QmP wines and the only wine from the Rheinhessen included in the lineup. Keller and Schönleber are both members of the Verband Deutscher Prädikats (VdP), a quality, peer-based organization that’s focused on changing the German wine laws of 1971 and returning to the importance of site. Its members are simultaneously working within the QmP system and selectively eschewing its definitions and its prioritization of ripeness levels over vineyard sites. “von der Fels” – literally, from the rocks – is Klaus-Peter Keller’s statement name for this wine, which is meant to reflect the limestone rich terroir which he seeks out and farms. It is a selection of fruit from the lower slopes of all four of his Großes Gewächs (great growth, Grand Cru) vineyard sites, generally harvested at ripeness levels equating to Spätlese. It is fermented to dryness and labeled simply as Riesling trocken, along with Keller’s “von der Fels” designation.

In contrast to the Kabinett trocken from Schönleber, Klaus-Peter’s 2006 “von der Fels” is all about generous fruit and round, polished texture. Partly, that stems from the wine’s greater degree of ripeness. There’s also a difference in terroir at work, as Keller’s flatter vineyard and slightly warmer setting yield consistently different textures than wines from the steep slopes in the Nahe. But my mouth tells me there’s something else at work: a subtle touch of sweetness. This year’s iteration of “von der Fels” would seem to run toward the upper half of the trocken scale, which allows for up to nine grams of residual sugar per liter. Peach, golden apples and unmistakably limey minerality abound, supported by medium-acidity and some serious flesh on the palate. Nice long finish, too. $30. 12.5% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Bacharacher Kloster Fürstental Riesling Sekt Brut, Weingut Ratzenberger 2003
This is the other non-QmP wine of the night and the one and only sparkling wine. I waffled with where to place it in the progression, considering it as an aperitif, as the first Riesling and even in the final position, as a palate cleanup hitter so to speak. I finally opted to slot it in between the dry and fruity/noble style Rieslings, as a wake-up call and to demonstrate another element of Riesling’s versatility. Jochen Ratzenberger is also a member of the VdP. His Sekt is a long standing favorite of mine. It’s made in the Méthode Traditionelle – Traditionelle Flaschengärung in German – and entirely by hand, right down to the remuage. Many of the bottles bear a brushstroke of white paint in the punt, a marker used by Ratzenberger to remember where he left off when called away from his duties as riddler.

2003 was a hot year, even in this normally chilly area of the Mittelrhein around the town of Bacharach. The extra degree of ripeness fostered by the growing season shows, as this is richer, riper and creamier in flavor and texture than in typical years. That doesn’t stop it from being terribly tasty. It’s also more intensely fruity, less noticeably yeasty than in cooler vintages. Yet it’s still a great food wine, though I might be more inclined to pair it with a richer, mid-meal course rather than serving it with more delicate dishes. A fine mousse lights up its medium-golden color. Peaches and cream, a hint of apricot and slate spiciness linger, buoyed by medium acid and fine balance. The down side is the dollar. This baby’s price is up over 25% since the previous vintage. $32. 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Kanzemer Altenberg Riesling Spätlese “Lot 1902,” Weingut Johann Peter Reinert 2001
If the Kabinett trocken from Schönleber was the most difficult wine of the night, this just may have been the biggest “Wow!” wine of the night. Classic, fruity style Saar Riesling. Low alcohol, totally delicate and graceful, yet profound in its depth of flavor. White peaches, baked apples, mace and an intense slate minerality all last for ages on the palate. It was the nose, though, that first got everyone’s attention, redolent of the bouquet that comes to German Rieslings, particularly from the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer, only with age. Call it what you will – diesel, kerosene, petrol – but, combined with the wine’s beautiful fruit and nervy acidity, it makes for an intoxicating little package. I’d pour it as an aperitif just as happily as I’d pair it with poached salmon or pan seared scallops. Reinert, a member of the Bernkasteller Ring (his area’s answer to the VdP), makes some great, unknown and underappreciated Rieslings, in dry, off-dry, fruity and nobly sweet styles. This Spätlese should continue to develop in interest for at least another decade and then hold steady for another. At its price, it would be more than worth stowing away a few bottles for a rainy day. $25. 8% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Bacharacher Wolfshöhle Riesling Auslese Goldkapsel, Weingut Ratzenberger 1997
Even though he’s increasingly recognized as one of the best producers in the Mittelrhein – if not the best – Ratzenberger does not get the same level of global buzz as producers like Keller and Schönleber. One of the lucky side effects of that relative obscurity is that he still has some old wines to sell. And he’ll release some of them to the market, in small lots, as he feels they’re ready to be appreciated.

At a little over ten years of age, this is definitely ready to be appreciated. Jochen’s plot of the Wolfshöhle vineyard is perfectly suited to the production of Spätlesen, Auslesen and, when vintage conditions permit, Beerenauslesen and Trockenbeerenauslesen. As with many other producers, Ratzenberger uses a Goldkapsel to indicate a very special bottling, most likely a declassified Beerenauslese in this case. The tropical and musky characteristics of this Auslese – pineapple, citrus confit, orange oil, clove and mango – definitely suggest at least a moderate percentage of botrytis affected fruit. An intense flavor of apricot preserves, a signature of the Wolfshöhle terroir, is present from start to finish. 1997 was a relatively low acid year, which shows in the wine’s fairly rich, somewhat oily texture. However, its texture also has a crystalline character that, along with the wine’s racy, confectionery sweetness, helps to keep things alive in the mouth. It lacks the structure and acidity for long term aging, but it’s easy to like now. So drink. And enjoy. $40 (500ml). 8% alcohol. Natural cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

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Related posts:

• Weingut Emrich Schönleber: Putting Monzingen on the Map
  
• Weingut Keller: Shining Star in the Rheinhessen
  
• Weingut Ratzenberger: Pearl of the Mittelrhein

Producer websites:

• Weingut Emrich Schönleber
  
• Weingut Keller
  
• Weingut Ratzenberger
  
• Weingut Johann Peter Reinert

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A Kanzemer Beauty

If there is any lingering regret from a brief jaunt into the Rheinland during a wine trip in February 2004, it was our group’s inability to make a detour into the Saar to visit the estate of Johann Peter Reinert. Drinking his 2003 Kanzemer Sonnenberg Riesling Spätlese feinherb this weekend brought thoughts of that missed opportunity right back to the front of my mind. In my experience, Reinert makes some of the most beautifully pure wines of the Saar. From tiny parcels on precipitous hillsides above the Saar and its canal, from villages such as Ayl, Kanzem, Wiltingen, Filzen and Wawern, Johann manages to scrape crystalline beauty from the hard slate earth. Even in a hot vintage like 2003, his wines embrace an icy acidity with delicate, persistent fruit and mineral nuances. The vineyard Sonnenberg – “Sunny Mountain” – tends to give forward, early maturing wines. At four years of age though, this bottle was still a toddler – fresh, vibrant and multi-faceted. Initial aromas of intense stoniness unfurled to give peaches, apple flesh, apple blossoms, orange zest and a light, bright hint of clover honey. Its finish went on and on. It’s impossible to overstate the food-friendliness of his wines. This bottle paired seamlessly with every aspect of a salad of raw beets, goat cheese and arugula, dressed with a splash of red wine vinegar, good olive oil and a pinch of salt and pepper. If there’s a more recent regret, it’s that there are no more bottles of this in my cellar. I’ll have to sock away some of his wonderful 2005’s… and go back for a visit.

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Recommended reading:

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A Quick Trip to New York: Day One

A couple of weeks ago now, I took a much needed day off and jumped on the Northeastern Corridor train from 30th Street Station (Philly) to Penn Station (New York). Ostensibly, the mission was to hang out with my friends Peter and Sarah with whom I get to spend quality time far too infrequently. Not surprisingly, our itinerary for my Wednesday/Thursday visit was heavily laden with food and wine exploration, both on the home front and around town.

Destination number one, after a rest stop and a wonderful coffee Chez Pete, was the splurge of the trip -- lunch in the café at Aquavit (65 E. 55th Street, between Park & Madison). The walk from the East Village to Midtown got our appetites revving and gave us the time to work out a game plan for the meal, deciding to focus our first visit on the simple, traditional aspects of the menu. We figured this would give us solid insight into the quality and core of the restaurant... and give us a reason to go back again to check out the more creative side, perhaps in the main dining room.

Herring and gravlax seemed appropriate starting points. The herring sampler was a trio comprised of the traditional pickled herring; curry with apple and chives; and vodka lime with salmon roe and dill. The pickled version took the day for its clear focus on well selected fish and a perfectly balanced, penetrating brine. Though both were quite appealing in flavor, the curry version lacked textural snap and the vodka lime was a bit too heavily sauced. As for the gravlax, straight up, the dish gets kudos for just the right level of cure and dill influence. Here though, the accoutrements brought the dish to another level. Used sparingly, the espresso mustard dipping sauce added an intoxicating richness and spark without overwhelming or muddying the core flavors of the gravlax itself.

For mains, Peter opted for Swedish meatballs and I for the daily Swedish homecooking special, Kokt Torsk. Suffice it to say that the meatballs were deliciously addictive, accompanied nicely with a sprinkling of lingonberries and some of the creamiest, most buttery mashed potatoes either of us had come across. Kokt Torsk, quite simply, is poached cod with egg sauce. Definitely comfort food à la Sweden, the cod was tender and flavorful and the egg sauce rich, warming and redolent of dill. I'd love to try to replicate it at home. The dessert included with the Wednesday special, Vanilj Hjärta, may have been the biggest surprise of the meal. While the visual artistry of Aquavit's signature dessert, the Arctic Circle, was impressive, simplicity took the day again. Essentially a heart-shaped pastry filled with a light, subtle cream, the Vanilj Hjärta (vanilla heart) appealed immediately to the senses, emitting an intense aroma of vanilla. Its plain appearance belied its sublime depth of flavor and couldn't have been a more appropriate finale to a first venture into Aquavit's menu.

After lunch, we continued our walk uptown to Rosenthal Wine Merchant (318 E. 84th Street at 2nd Ave.). While I had a pretty solid idea of what to expect there, I was still a bit surprised at, well, the surprise with which we were greeted after buzzing in at the front door of their brownstone. Rosenthal is essentially a one-line shop, a retail outlet for the direct importing business of Neal Rosenthal. Though the ground floor is stacked high with deliveries and shipments waiting to go out to customers in NY and elsewhere, it quickly became clear that walk-in visitors, especially new faces, are a bit of a rarity. Will, who was working the office upstairs, announced our arrival to Hannah, who was tending the shop downstairs. Here again it was apparent that the shop makes few accommodations to the casual shopper or to the uninitiated. Though there's a respectable selection here, with particular depth in Burgundy and the Loire, the shop's wares are laid out in a fashion that makes browsing difficult and finding what you're seeking a wee bit challenging. Once over those hurdles, though, there are some treasures -- not necessarily much in the way of pure bargains but many clearly excellent wines, some of which do represent good value in terms of quality-to-price (QPR) ratio. After a bit of digging around and some consultation with Hannah, I left with a few promising bottles, including a Chinon blanc from Olek-Mery, a Chassagne-Montrachet rouge from Pillot and a Valle d'Aosta Fumin -- a wine I've never before encountered -- from Grosjean Frères. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to trying them all.

There were two quick stops remaining before heading home to prepare dinner. The first was Peter's favorite German market. Conveniently enough, Schaller & Weber (1654 2nd Avenue, just below 86th Street) is located just a couple of blocks up the road from Rosenthal's wine shop. Though I'm not sure it will vie for the title of one of New York's best all-round butchers, the quality of the german sausages alone is more than worth the visit. I took home a selection of some quite fabulous bauernwurst, weisswurst and pinkelwurst. Our last stop of the day is a perennial favorite and frequent stop of mine, Payard Pâtisserie (1032 Lexington Avenue, between 73rd and 74th Streets). Decision making is always tough at Payard but simplicity again took the day. Based on the plans for dinner and wine, we opted for four portions of tarte tâtin, perhaps the most straightforward offering of what was left in the pastry case by late afternoon. Good stuff all around.

Finally, back home for dinner. Sarah, who had worked all day and wasn't able to join us for lunch, came through with a nice array of snacks to get things started. Cheeses, pâté, cornichons and Serrano ham were all selected from her workplace -- Murray's Cheese (254 Bleecker Street between 6th & 7th Avenues). Not a bad start, especially when paired with a citrusy, refreshing bottle of Hirsch Kamptal Riesling "Zobing" 2005. Peter prepared one of his specialties next, a pork roast wrapped in bacon and finished with a Riesling cream sauce. Paired with Sarah's Brussels sprouts and a bottle of Nikolaihof Wachau Grüner Veltliner "Vinothek" 1991, which I'd brought back from a September trip to Vienna, it was pretty rockin'. Finishing touches were supplied by the tartes from Payard, accompanied by a bottle of Weingut Johann Peter Reinert Kanzemer Sonnenberg Riesling Auslese 1999.

Not a bad day, I must say. Details -- fewer, I promise -- of day two to come.

Related texts:

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