The Wine Rambler - "A German wine label is one of the things life's too short for" - Kingsley Amis

Bernhard Huber, Spätburgunder Alte Reben, 2010

torsten — Sun, 22 Sep 2019 21:20:12 +0000

Bernhard Huber, Spätburgunder Alte Reben, 2010

I haven't had much luck with my wine recently. For various reasons I haven't enjoyed much wine at home the past few years, so some bottles that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. And for two and a half years, some wines passed out of all knowledge. Or at least that's how Galadriel would have put it. Anyway, some wines spent probably a little too much time in London's tastiest wardrobe. The last few weeks I made it my mission to go through the aged wines in my possession and drink them. Sadly, I haven't had much success - until I opened this Pinot Noir from Baden that is.

Bernhard Huber is, or sadly rather was, a Pinot Noir specialist - he passed away in 2014, to be succeeded by his son Julian. The Huber estate is located in Malterdingen, a small town in the German south west. Pinot has a long tradition in this part of Germany, having been introduced to the region by Cistercian monks in the 14th century or so. When Bernhard Huber took over from his father in 1987, Pinot was already planted on the family vineyards, with the grapes usually sold to the local cooperative. Bernhard and his wife started estate bottling and planted additional Pinot clones from France. Over time, they also added more land, so that the Huber vineyards now cover 28 hectares. In addition to Pinot Noir the Hubers also grow Chardonnay and a few other grapes. However, Spätburgunder, as Pinot Noir is called in Germany, remains the focus of the estate - so much so that some have called Bernhard Huber the German godfather of Pinot Noir.

The wine I opened this weekend is a Pinot made from (grapes from) old vines, old in this case meaning between 25-60 years. Now, I am a little hesitant to review the Alte Reben as my records show it has been in my wardrobe for almost six years. This is hardly ideal for any wine, although a good Pinot Noir can easily last for ten years or more. Even so, there was nothing wrong with the wine I poured to accompany a nice ragù. Quite the opposite actually.

I found a wine of beautiful colour, a red that just started to pale around the edges yet was otherwise enticingly dark, almost blackish. What struck me most about it was the precision and freshness of the Huber. It was so easy to drink to belie both its age and relatively substantial 13.5% ABV. Many of the classic Pinot Noir elements were present, from berries and cherries to woodland aromas and spices, but the wine wasn't exuberant either. The wood was extremely well integrated, to the extend that I didn't really notice it very much at all, at least not as a separate component. The ragù and wine played together very nicely, with each enhancing the other's spiciness. Overall the Huber gave the impression of an elegant, accomplished wine that had both force and elegance, especially due to the freshness.

The downside of how well integrated the wine was that to me it perhaps lacked some more distinctive elements, a certain wow factor to take it beyond a very accomplished wine. I don't want to make too much of this though as that may well have been due to how it has been stored. Even in its current condition I don't think this wine needs to hide from its French cousins - so if you can find a properly stored specimen I would say it should be ready to be enjoyed now. Cheers!

torsten Sunday, 22/09/2019

€24-29

A (belated) encounter with Cabernet Blanc - a unique wine from the Pfalz

torsten — Sat, 30 Mar 2019 12:12:08 +0000

A (belated) encounter with Cabernet Blanc - a unique wine from the Pfalz

The other night I was having some Cabernet Blanc with my homies and - Cabernet What, I hear you say? You heard correctly, the wine is called Cabernet Blanc, a grape variety that is grown by just a few vintners in central and western Europe. The specimen whose label you see below comes from the Pfalz, one of my favourite German wine regions.

It was produced by the Mosbacher family who have been making wine in the village of Forst for a hundred years now. Currently, they grow vines on some 20 hectares of land, with roughly 90% of the production dedicated to white wine, mostly Riesling. Cabernet Blanc makes up only about 1% of their overall production.

The grape Cabernet Blanc is a hybrid made from Cabernet Sauvignon and an unknown disease resistant variety that is believed to be a complex crossing of several varieties, possibly including Silvaner and Riesling. It was created in 1991 and is grown in small quantities in Switzerland, Germany, Austria and the Netherlands. Cabernet Blanc is quite robust, ripens late and produces wines with higher acidity that are supposed to age well. It is also robust against cooler weather, so can be allowed to ripen longer on the vine. It is still very much a new kid on the block, so even in the Pfalz, where it is more common than anywhere else, it is only grown as a trial (Versuchsanbau).

Cabernet Blanc is often described as similar to Sauvignon Blanc with some characteristics of Riesling. As this sounded rather appealing, I ordered a bottle to sample and report back. Sadly though, the poor Mosbacher was forgotten in my wine rack during the rather busy and not very wine-focused past few years, which is why I am only writing about it now. This also explains why I would not want to have the following notes taken as a review as such - the wine was stored for five years in a wine rack in my flat and these aren't the conditions where you would expect a medium-bodied white to flourish.

Now, with that caveat out of the way, let's jump right in. When I unscrewed the bottle there was a very noticeable pop, and the Cabernet was indeed a little bit fizzy when first poured into the glass. It features a light straw colour with a greenish tint and a rather refreshing fizz. The aroma is one of lime sorbet, citrus, anise, a hint of stone fruit and some gooseberry - overall sharp and refreshing, but not really distinct or with lots of depth. Drinking it is somewhat similar, giving the impression of a wine that has faded away to a degree, especially in the fairly short finish. The most noticeable element is the overly sharp acidity that wasn't balanced by substance, sweetness or at least deeper flavours - it felt a bit like, other than the acidity, the wine had faded away to an extend, leaving an unbalanced and muted impression behind.

I assume this is because they wine did not take well to the less than ideal conditions under which it was stored. Having said this, I can easily imagine what a Cabernet Blanc might be like when caught in its prime, especially a slightly more substantial bigger brother with well integrated acidity, very present aromas and flavours and perhaps a hint of sweetness. With similarities to both Riesling and Cabernet Sauvignon I think this grape is indeed capable of producing exciting wines, and so I shall keep my eyes open for a Cabernet Blanc that can be reviewed here under fairer conditions.

torsten Saturday, 30/03/2019

Submitted by FElix Friday, 29/01/2021

I love this one. I am from…

I love this one. I am from Germany and we often get this one in the store.

Back with a bang: North Korean wild grape wine

torsten — Sat, 23 Feb 2019 12:50:45 +0000

Back with a bang: North Korean wild grape wine

How do you come back from the dead you ask? If you have to, I think, do it with a bang. In our case, this ruled out re-starting the Wine Rambler with a usual post, such as a review of a steely Riesling. So I went in search of something unusual. And I think it is fair to say I found it, or rather it found me: ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I give you a review of North Korean wild grape wine from the DMZ!

Before we venture into the Korean Demilitarized Zone, a few words about the Wine Rambler. Julian and I started this venture purely for our own entertainment almost ten years ago. Over time it grew and changed, and so did our lives. With work and other commitments there was less time for rambling, especially for telling the really interesting stories. Research, interviews, travel and tastings can take a lot of time, and neither Julian's nor my schedule was flexible enough. That is still the case, but increasingly I found I was missing both the writing and the wine community. So, I dusted off the blog, gave it a new interface and here we are. It is unlikely we will ever go back to the olden days of several posts a week, but I am still looking forward to the occasional ramble.

Made in DPR Korea!

Now, about the wine at hand. This highly unusual specimen came to me directly from the Korean Demilitarized Zone. It turns out that between mines, artillery and two of the largest armies of the world there are gift shops. And one of the delicacies you can buy there are wild grape wines. This bottle was brought to me by a dear and adventurous friend who, rightly, felt I would be very excited to try something unique. The Korean guide however was less excited and, repeatedly, warned my friend that the wine was no good and should not be drunk. Thankfully, that didn't deter her, and so here I sit with a glass full of a rather unappealing liquid, mustering all the courage I have to sample and report back to you.

Usually in a visual description of wine you'd start with the colour, but the first impression of the wild grape wine is dominate by dregs. Lots of black particles swimming happily in the liquid. Did I say particles? Some of them are easily half a centimetre long, so particles gives the wrong impression. This is one of the few cases where 'unfiltered' doesn't promise something exciting but rather an omission that leaves me alarmed. Anyway, the wine itself is decidedly brown, with a red touch that becomes stronger the brighter the surrounding light.

The smell is equally heavily oxidised, somewhere between musty basement, weak sherry and pears marinated in something really strong. A pleasant hint of flowers, hay and honey is counteracted by a not quite as pleasant sharpness, like a vinegar-based cleaning product, or a cheap red wine vinegar (just not as strong). To be honest, from the looks and stark warning from the guide I had expected worse. If you don't pay attention you could almost imagine sniffing a corked red dessert wine.

On the tongue it oscillates between a not unpleasant sweetness and a sharp alcoholic bitterness that stings a bit. There are hints of caramelised sweets and juicy fruit, perhaps prunes, that by themselves are quite enjoyable. On the top of your tongue the wine almost feels round, but soon turns into something that is both weaker in substance and sharper in bite. The finish has both pleasant and unpleasant elements, but ultimately ends in musty cardboard.

On balance this is much better than I expected, although at the same time far from enjoyable and not something I would ever want to drink. It was an unusual experience though, and as such very fitting to restart the Wine Rambler.

torsten Saturday, 23/02/2019

North Korea

no other place

Submitted by Anke Sunday, 24/02/2019

"ultimately ends in musty…

"ultimately ends in musty cardboard", LOL, you had me laughing here!
I feel like I can quite well imagine what it tastes like. And looking at the photos - you drank that without putting it through a filter first?! Yuk. You're ready to join the next Jungle Camp :D
keep posting - and alert us on FB or by mail whenever there is a new post!

Submitted by Julian Rambler Tuesday, 26/02/2019

Comrade Torsten, I salute…

Comrade Torsten, I salute you and commend you for demonstrating to the imperialist powers of the wine world that this small blog, while it harbours only peaceful intentions, will continue to develop, in dedicated secrecy, reviews and stories that will, once revealed, strike fear into the preconceived notions of the wine powers that be.

Submitted by Christie Dietz… Wednesday, 03/04/2019

Thrilled you're back!! I've…

Thrilled you're back!! I've frequently wondered where you've got to. Hope all's well - the new look blog is fabulous.

Submitted by torsten Sunday, 14/04/2019

Great to hear from you,…

Great to hear from you, Christie. It's good to be back indeed!

A Wonderful and Merry Christmas 2015 to All of You

torsten — Thu, 24 Dec 2015 06:25:08 +0000

A Wonderful and Merry Christmas 2015 to All of You

To all our readers a Merry Christmas and wonderful 2016, filled with joy and exciting wine adventures!

torsten Thursday, 24/12/2015

Christmas

Gold in them hills - 30 years of Tuscan Sangiovese with the Marchese de' Frescobaldi

Julian — Sat, 14 Nov 2015 22:49:22 +0000

Gold in them hills - 30 years of Tuscan Sangiovese with the Marchese de' Frescobaldi

How do you get a semi-retired wine blogger to grab his tasting glass and head out into the fray again? Make him an offer he can't resist. Include in it: World class red wines, back vintages no longer available anywhere else, an Italian region that he loves, but still knows too little about. To clinch the deal, promise him that he will get to meet a real live Italian nobleman.

30 years of Sangiovese, lining up to be tasted

Marchese Lamberto de' Frescobaldi is just that, and he is also the director of his family's vast agricultural and wine growing operation. To promote his high-end Tuscan sangiovese, Frescobaldi and their German importer had set up a spectacular vertical tasting in Munich. Read on for my impressions of 30 years of Sangiovese, and a bit with a wild boar.

As far as the historical record can tell, the Frescobaldi family first settled in Tuscany around the year 1000, moved into the ruling group of Florence city and assembled a vast sprawling dominion in land and trade. Not least in wine. Of the five separate Tuscan estates now gathered under the roof of the Frescobaldi company, two were featured in separate vertical flights: The Castello di Nippozano in the Rufina subregion of Chianti, and Castelgiocondo, a Brunello di Montalcino producer. While traditional Chiantis are medium-bodied, mouthwatering reds ranging from elegant to austere, Brunellos come from the same Sangiovese grape, but are fuller-bodied, with darker fruit and a structure so serious that appellation rules require five years of ageing, at least two of them in oak. An icon of Italian winemaking tradition, Brunellos have traditionally battled it out for best red of the nation with the Barolos of Piemonte, at least until a breed of modernised crossover wines called Super Tuscans came along and swept to short-lived fame. If all this is Tuscan wines 101, then, frankly, it also pretty much sums up the background knowledge I brought to the afternoon.

Castello di Nippozano, then, whose name is said to originate in the phrase "without well" (senza pozzo). I'd like to think I actually found some of that heat and dryness in the glasses. The youngest of the bunch was the 2011 Riserva, with overripe dark cherries and plums galore, jammy fruit, yet somewhere in the back of the palate also a wonderfully morbid dusty dryness, salty plum juice and dried herbs. A promising beginning. The 2001: More roundness to the fruit, but good lord, what tannins for a mere Chianti, and at 14 years old! 1994 then matured in earnest, with fruit that has turned into raisiny sweetness and already lost most of its tension. 1989, surprisingly, seemed younger and much more lively, had a right proper punch to it: Sweet cherry juice and cedarwood hitting the palate, fun to drink. Finally, 1985: A wine of extremes, as Frescobaldi told us, with an extremely hot and dry summer following an extremely cold winter. This came closer to the 1994 than to the '89, with a brick red, brownish colour, mature, very slightly bitter fruit, but the tannins still kicking it. An impressive, varied first flight, and those were only the little people from the hillsides, as it were.

Make way for the big boys, then: Living up to their reputation, I found the Brunellos of Castelgiocondo to be richly traditional. Fermented in concrete and later in large wooden wats, none of the oaky softness from barriques here, just sun-drenched plums, smoked meat and dusty earth under scorching sun. So concentrated, tannic, overpowering and demanding did I find them that with every sip and gurgle, sentences that I willed the marchese to say next formed in my head: "Ladies and gentlemen, to lighten your palate, we will now serve a classical aged Médoc / a German Spätburgunder / a Riesling Kabinett from the Mosel", one of them would go, and "Ladies and gentlemen, if you could now interrupt your tasting, take your glasses and follow me through to the next room, where a wild boar is already roasting on a spit, so that we can all enjoy our Brunellos in more gustatory comfort", went the other. Alas, wishful thinking. On it went, glass hitting lips, palate hitting tannic wall, spit hitting bucket. From the darkly fruity 2004, via the salty, meaty, chewable 2001, the sloe-like 1999 and 1995, I plodded along. And then, the show-stopper of the afternoon, the monument that was the 1990: It began with colour. While much younger wines had already turned brick red with brown edges, this one stood inkily in the glass like a ripe plum. If you look closely you can even see something of this in the picture above. Fruit for days, dark dark fruit, roasted meat, generous sweetness, and - have you guessed it? - a drystone wall of tannin. Again, this seemed much younger than what had come before, although ageless might be the better word in this case.

The noble touch - Marchese Lamberto de' Frescobaldi

If all of this sounds more like shock and awe than lip-smacking delight, that was actually my general feeling about the traditional, powerful Brunellos. They impressed me (lastingly in the case of the 1990), but the somewhat lighter Chiantis I actually enjoyed more. It may just have been me, but the dusty, heat-soaked strength of serious Sangiovese seemed out of place in the flutteringly social, shrimp-cocktail atmosphere of this kind of tasting. Let's put it more positively, and make this the first lesson of the afternoon: Sangiovese, young and old, is more than a good food companion. It needs food. It positively cries out for that bistecca alla fiorentina or those pappardelle with wild boar ragù. I am now afraid the marchese may have given me a lasting wild boar fixation. The second lesson (closely related to No. 1): Sangiovese tannins, those assertive, rough-grained, mouthwatering little blighters, are there to stay. They don't really soften, they don't go away. Deal with them. For the only available option in dealing with them, please turn back to lesson one. And the final lesson: Vintage does matter. I was aware of that before, of course, and so were you. But I never had this demonstrated to me as grippingly and immediately as when the marchese straightened his immaculate silk tie and starting charmed his way back in time. Some vintages had withstood age behind their fortresses of tannin, some were succumbing, some seemed immune. When the strapping youthful 1990 Brunello hit my palate right after the sedate 1995, it made me think of Bob Dylans "My back pages":

Ah, but I was so much older then I’m younger than that now

Julian Saturday, 14/11/2015

Tenuta di Castelgiocondo

Castello di Nippozano

Submitted by Guest Wednesday, 03/02/2016

where you can buy Frescobaldi wines

I have worked closely with the Marchesi for 15 years in selling his wines in the UK. Our great relationship has seen him visit some of our restaurants and conduct some of the finest tastings of his amazing wines. To buy these superb wines in the UK visit http://www.wineman.co.uk/brand/marchesi-de-frescobaldi

Submitted by Matteo Wednesday, 04/11/2020

Frescobaldi is a great…

Frescobaldi is a great winemaker, love what they do.

Gerhard Klein, Grüner Veltliner, Junge Reben, 2013

torsten — Sun, 05 Jul 2015 13:58:45 +0000

Gerhard Klein, Grüner Veltliner, Junge Reben, 2013

It's been a busy few months for me. Almost all of June I spent on the road, or at events in London. So to ease myself back into blogging I thought I write about a nice little wine, nothing extraordinarily expensive or with a long and complicated backstory. There is, after all, a place for those wines that are there just to be enjoyed. When I unscrewed Gerhard Klein's Grüner Veltliner I hoped it would be one of those quiet, enjoyable companions. And it was. With a little twist...

The twist is staring you right in the eye: a Grüner Veltliner, but from Germany. The Grüner Veltliner you will know is the signature grape of Austria, a wine that has gained international recognition for its tangy freshness. It is very rare to find it in Germany - as far as I am aware it is planted on less than 20 ha - the Austrians are growing a thousand times as much. The little German Grüner comes from the Pfalz, a region that I am fond of because of the variety of wines it produces. Gerhard Klein seems to embrace this approach, amongst the more common Rieslings and Pinots his family also grows Grüner Veltliner, Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon on the clay and loam soils near Hainfeld. Klein's white wines are usually made in stainless steel, with the top Rieslings being fermented naturally.

The Grüner Veltliner is labelled as "Junge Reben", or "young vines", from a vineyard that became fully operational in 2010. The wine has a light straw colour, with a greenish tint. Light is also the word that features most often in my tasting notes. A fresh, light and tangy wine with lively acidity and a well-rounded finish that blends spice, freshness and a touch of bitterness - a nice contrast to the melon, apple, spice and blackberry aromas and flavours that are seasoned with herbal undergrowth. Klein's Grüner Veltliner delivers exactly what you'd want from a wine of this type in this price range. It would not be fair to compare it to the more complex Veltliners that Austria produces these days, but then these wines are also more expensive. In its price range it does not do badly though. It will be interesting to see what wine Klein will produce when the vines are ready to be called old. For now anyway there is no reason to give up on Austrian Veltliner, but equally if you can find a German specimen like this one I think you would enjoy it as much.

torsten Sunday, 05/07/2015

Schnaitmann, Fellbacher Lämmler, Lemberger GG, 2009

torsten — Tue, 31 Mar 2015 12:34:21 +0000

Schnaitmann, Fellbacher Lämmler, Lemberger GG, 2009

Württemberg is not one of the wine regions the average wine drinker will know much about; most likely they will not even have heard about it. Now, I could tell you a that it is a rather interesting area - a red wine making region dominated by a plethora of growers associations and rivers - but the main reason I like to drink wines made by the local tribe of the Swabians is that I was born there. In fact, as a child I played not far from Rainer Schnaitmann's Lämmler vineyard.

So every now and then I need to go back, to check what my homies are up to.

Württemberg is red wine country. Over two thirds of the wines made there are red - in particular the local champion Trollinger, but also Pinot Meunier and Blaufränkisch, locally known as Lemberger. Another over-two-thirds Württemberg story is about cooperatives: some 70 growers association own over two thirds of vineyard land in Württemberg. Fellbach has one of them, the Fellbacher Weingärtner who date back to the middle of the 19th century when over 500 wine growers worked the vineyards around Fellbach. At that time red and white grapes were simply thrown together, no matter where they were grown. As the style of part-time winemaking was no longer profitable, the Weingärtner ("wine gardeners") began to separate red and white grapes and to charge different prices for different sites. Today there are still around 270 members in the association, looking after 170 ha of vineyard land around Fellbach.

The litre bottle of cheap Trollinger, grapes grown in a farmer's back garden overlooking the river Neckar is a standard image of Württemberg wine. Rainer Schnaitmann's Lembrger does not quite fit that image. We are looking at a complex, substantial red made from Blaufränkisch grapes from a vineyard classified as GG, the German equivalent to a grand cru wine - and the price reflects that, sadly. I opened it recently to support a stew made with Swabian egg noddles called Spätzle, and to indulge in childhood memories of course. I was very pleased with the colour, a rather pretty dark black cherry, and a spicy and fruity bouquet: hints of liquorice and ground paprika mixed with earthy, herbal aromas, aniseed, coffee and tobacco and lovely blackcurrant and mixed berries. Oh, and a bit of meat broth. Many of these aromas were present in the taste, although the ripe fruit was a little less prominent and the oaky notes were more like smoky wood and cocoa. I liked the earthy mineral, there was enough acidity to keep things interesting and the tannins came out in a long finish. This was all rather nice but it felt there should be a little more depth, as if the wine was hiding something behind the oak layer - I got the feeling I had perhaps opened it at the wrong time. Now don't get me wrong, it was still very good, but did not quite deliver the excitement the price was hinting at. So if you are lucky to have a bottle in your cellar, put it away for a couple of years, or maybe even four or five, and then let us know. I think there is good ageing potential here, something I am not used to from Swabian red - being surprised is, I think, a good outcome for a trip down memory lane!

torsten Tuesday, 31/03/2015

Comments

Submitted by Andrew Connor Tuesday, 14/04/2015

I remember being pretty

I remember being pretty impressed by some of the Lembergers I tasted at a Grosses Gewächs release tasting a couple of years ago.

There is, however, a familiar German red wine story. All too often the super premium wines are super oaky. The basic wines are generally more drinkable, somehow more honest without the oak schminke. Not just a Württemberg or a Lemberger (or even German) problem of course.

I have to say I don't think these wines will age gracefully, the fruit falls apart and the oak never really integrates.

Hello German wine makers, less barrique please.

Submitted by torsten Friday, 17/04/2015

barrique

I have run into a few of those myself, especially from Swabian producers. Overall I haven't found it a significant issue though, but it is always a question of sample size I guess. I am with you on careful barrique use though!

Pievalta, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi, Classico Superiore, 2012

torsten — Sun, 01 Mar 2015 18:31:03 +0000

Pievalta, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi, Classico Superiore, 2012

Sometimes it is about the simple pleasures. When I first got really excited about wine I was drawn to the more expensive, prestigious wines. The average price I paid per bottle started creeping up. Looking for something "unusual" for the Wine Rambler contributed to this trend. Over time though I got a little frustrated with this approach. After all, all these "special" bottles need "special" attention. They want to be carefully selected, properly photographed, precisely analysed and interestingly described. What happened to just enjoying a nice looking bottle with dinner without feeling the need to pay too much attention? This feeling led me to order more "drinking" and less "reviewing" wines, and recently I even managed to put an order in where the average price per bottle was below seven quid.

The wine you see above is one of these wines, although I put a little more effort into selecting it. After all tradition dictates that the first wine to be reviewed on the Wine Rambler each year does not come from Germany.

Why the Pievalta? First of all I like Verdicchio, amongst other reasons for its good acidity, and I still feel I have to make amends for ignoring Italy as a wine region for so long. This is really hard to justify - although I blame the cheap Prosecco and bland Pinot Grigio served to me in Munich in the 90s - considering the amazing variety of regions, grapes and styles of the country. The Pievalta comes from the Verdicchio die Castelli di Jesi DOC in the Marches region north-east of Rome. It is made in biodynamic style from grapes grown on chalky soil and fermented with natural yeasts in stainless steel tanks. The winery itself is relatively young - it was founded in 2002 by Alessandro Fenino and Silvano Brescianini - and apparently was the first in the region to obtain Demeter certification as biodynamic. Don't worry, I am not going to turn this post into a treatise on the pros and cons of biodynamics (although I appreciate sustainability and individuality in winemaking). After all this was about finding a friendly dinner companion, and not about lecturing. And the Pievalta certainly delivered on that front: light, with a clean straw-gold colour, refreshing, easy to drink, with some character but not attention seeking. In fact, at first it was a little muted on the nose, but I enjoyed its fresh spiciness ("würzig" in German is just the better word) and after a while fruit and hay aromas came through. Between apple, peach and a touch of mango I got an almost ozone-y whiff of the seaside and memories of my chilled sweet melon and chilli soup. Coupled with a light but lasting finish and a certain chewy texture you get a wine that drinks well, does not distract but neither bores you. Add some nicely cooked fish, fresh veg and a slice of bread and you have ingredients for a good evening - ideally on a terrace between rolling hills of the Marches, but it also works in rainy February in London.

torsten Sunday, 01/03/2015

Bodegas Mauro, Vendimia Seleccionada 2003

torsten — Sun, 21 Dec 2014 13:12:18 +0000

Bodegas Mauro, Vendimia Seleccionada 2003

A busy year is coming to an end. I could write about how busy it was, but the very slow trickle of posts on the Wine Rambler makes that obvious enough. Instead I feel like leaning back, pouring myself a comforting wine and relax. A wine with substance and soothing qualities, something with a personal connection but less intellectual challenge than the Rieslings I love so much. It is time to open a special red wine that had been sitting in my cellar waiting for a moment like this. Or maybe his is just a pretentious way of saying: after maybe five years stored in a wardrobe I feared the Mauro really needed drinking.

The first time I came across Bodegas Mauro was in 2006. To celebrate my viva, my dad gave me two bottles of red he had kept back for a special moment: a Pontet-Canet and a Mauro. The Pontet-Canet was a revelation to my uneducated palate, and I would still rate it as one of the best wines I ever tasted. The Mauro was maybe not quite as refined but I remember remarkable fruitiness and a feeling of soothing satisfaction. It was that feeling that prompted me a few years later to buy another bottle - at the time it was my most expensive single wine purchase and at way over €50 it still ranks in the absolute top. Bodegas Mauro was founded in 1971 and has since developed a reputation far beyond the Duero valley. The wines are made with indigenous yeasts and aged in French and American oak barrels - my 2003 was bottled in 2007. I recently heard it described as "blockbuster style", but that gives the impression that muscles and fun lack meaning. The Mauro clearly has power but it is no cheap show-off. The dark cherry colour is really very dark, there is lots of alcohol and the tannins have muscle, but the overall impression is of an accomplished, well rounded wine that is oh so drinkable. Athletic man in a suit, not cheap muscle in a t-shirt. Ripe black fruit (berries and plum), liquorice, nicely integrated oak (cocoa, peppery spice, dark chocolate) and pleasing earthiness and acidity. You will notice the 15% ABV but if this lover of light and vibrant Riesling can quaff away a strong Tempranillo like nothing you will too. Whether I would recommend the wine or not depends on what sort of drinker you are. If money is a very important consideration or if you value value than I would say you get something decent for a fifth of the price or something nearly as good for a little more than half. However, if like in my case the Mauro comes just at the right time, if you have a personal connection or if you look for a berry indulgence and do not mind the extra spend then it may be just the right choice for this winter. Or for winters to come - even after a good decanting the 2003 was still going strong, so it should last for quite a while.

torsten Sunday, 21/12/2014

German Gin, with Riesling? Ferdinand's Saar Dry Gin!

torsten — Sat, 01 Nov 2014 10:44:20 +0000

German Gin, with Riesling? Ferdinand's Saar Dry Gin!

It took me almost two decades to appreciate gin. In my early drinking years, it was one of two spirits that I would always decline, as more than a glass made me sick (the other being ouzo). And let's face it, what else would you do with spirits in your late teenage years than have more than a glass? In the following, vaguely wiser years I enjoyed wine and stayed away from spirits - until I moved to gin central: London. Not only did I learn to appreciate a good gin and tonic, in those dire pubs where you are stuck between the Scylla of tart Sauvignon Blanc and the Charybdis of offensively dull lager even a mediocre G&T is a life (although perhaps not liver) saver. Today's gin is of a different calibre though, and an unusual beast too: a dry gin made in Germany, and intriguingly it is infused with late harvest Riesling grapes from a first class vineyard! So when I was offered a tasting sample of "Ferdinand's Saar Dry Gin" I had to say yes, and I brought along a gin expert to help me taste it.

The gin is named after Royal Prussian Forest Superintendent Ferdinand Geltz, the founder of the Forstmeister Geltz-Zilliken estate at the river Saar. With a history going back to 1742, Geltz-Zilliken is a well-respected name in the German wine world, and they focus exclusively on Riesling. Ferdinand's Saar Dry gin is a collaboration between Dorothee Ziliken, who manages the estate with her parents, and master distiller Andreas Vallendar, whose family has been distilling spirits in the Saar area for almost two hundred years. The late-harvested Riesling grapes used to infuse the gin come from the Saarburger Rausch vineyard ("Rausch" literally means intoxication), whereas many of the ~30 botanicals used in it are grown near the distillery, and some in or around vineyards. They include elderflower, sloe, apple mint, coriander, bergamot, rose hip, angelica and lavender. And that is nicely reflected in the actual gin, which I enjoyed last night with London-based food and spirits writer Jassy, aka Gin and Crumpets - because she is an enjoyable drinking companion, but also for her gin expertise and to avoid any bias I might have. And generally I am quite biased to anything that involves hand-picked, late-harvest Riesling grapes.

The nose of the Saar Dry Gin is delicate yet expressive with lots of herbs, including angelica, lavender - very similar to the lavender moth balls I just happen to have bought last week - and lots of juniper, but also pine. It is very easy to drink, pleasantly spicy, really smooth, not harsh at all, with flavours of orange candy, angelica, juniper and other herbs, and a pleasant touch of sweetness. It was so easy to drink I did not feel the need to add tonic, and in fact we found that the flavours did not come out quite as well when we tried it with tonic, but Jassy reckons it would make a great cocktail gin. I am aware my gin knowledge is rather limited, so I shall just say I found it an absolute pleasure to drink and I will make sure to resupply. The expert said that the Germans are on to a winner with the Ferdinand's. So there you go, Riesling and delicious gin in the same bottle!

Ferdinand's Saar Dry Gin, 44%: http://www.saar-gin.com/ UK: £20.25 for 200CL bottle from http://www.amathusdrinks.com/

torsten Saturday, 01/11/2014

Forstmeister Geltz-Zilliken

Submitted by Andrew Connor Tuesday, 02/12/2014

Have a try of Monkey 47 from

Have a try of Monkey 47 from the Schwarzwald

What's going on in Germany? They've evidentally all gone Gin mad...

Submitted by torsten Friday, 05/12/2014

Not only in Germany, it has

Not only in Germany, it has also infected me here in London - although that would be easier to understand... I will check out the Schwarzwald Monkey!