GERMAN WHITE WINE
How Sweet It Is!
have shriveled even more than the previous classification.
Eiswein, ice wine, is the next step, and rarely occurs. All of the many factors listed above have to occur … plus the unlikely events of early and severe frosts. Then, the grape harvesters will go out with the nearly vertical Rhein riverbank slopes, let themselves down with ropes tied to their waists, and find frozen, dried“ berries” that were once plump lightgreen grapes; place them in the containers on their backs; and when full, rush back to the vintner. There, they must be pressed immediately, lest they thaw, so what comes out are drops – mere drops – of sweet syrup, as the water is frozen as crystals.
Ice wines are highly prized as dessert wines, complex, velvety, sweet but not cloying. Because of the labor-intensive aspects of its production, they are very expensive. They are usually sold in tall, thin bottles to make them affordable; but I have a bottle of a 1952 Eiswein that is a full 750 ml., so they once were produced. Because of their features, ice wines are not so dependent upon regions or years that define other German Whites.
Some vintners are making ice wines artificially – aging grapes, freezing and squeezing. Frankly, they taste fine. Outlaws can be good marksmen too. These wines comes from Oregon, Washington, Canada, and … Michigan. They can be pleasant, if you are not a traditionalist; and can be made from other grapes, like the pleasant muscato.
But. If tradition comprises a part of your taste buds, I invite you to try some of these German Whites of the Mosel or Rheingau. You might have experienced some of my travel blessings: Along the Rhein River, which flows north, contrary to most of the world’ s rivers, from Switzerland to the Netherlands. The Dutch word for the river tells us that Rembrandt van Rijn’ s ancestors lived on its banks. I have visited a little stretch of the river, north of Frankfurt, when I would crash after hectic International Book Fairs, or, twice, travel for special Harvest Festivals.
In the fall, the very air between Mainz and Koblenz would smell like grape juice. You will stay in 1000-year-old castles converted to hotels and restaurants; looking down on the ancient vines and the silent, majestic river. You may eat, as I do, in a weinstube, a little wine-tasting restaurant, in Eltville, where you will learn that 500 years ago it was the print shop of Johannes Gutenberg, and the first dictionary was printed where you sit.
A little bend in the north-flowing river means it stretches west to east – that the sun blesses those vines the whole day, not part. Combined with the slate soil, these grapes fight for their lives as they have for 2,000 years, producing the hearty and distinctive flavors. The Rhein, hereabouts, is in a severe valley as I have described, and humidity is trapped therein, which encourages those frosts and“ rots.”
When you visit those little villages, and big estates – or very small estates, more like large gardens – you discover the differences we spoke about at the beginning. No bottle is the same … yes, it is, because of the strict production laws. Yet every glass has its own character, every bottle will have you steaming it off for your wine scrapbook, or noting the region, town, estate, etc., etc., etc.
And the alcohol levels are low. I tell friends, as I enjoy German Whites, that there is less threat from alcohol consumption, than there is in simply drowning in the nectar of those gods. Prosit!