Looking back over the last few weeks of wine rambling, I realise it has been a little while since we have reviewed a dry Riesling. As certain standards need to be upheld (and the world reminded that Germany defines itself more and more about dry), a bottle of dry German Riesling was uncovered from my wardrobe cellar.
As it happens, it was a dry Mosel Riesling, made by winemaker revolutionary Reinhard Löwenstein.
Pretty to look at (with its gold-ish dark straw colour), the Löwenstein certainly smelled the part, an intensity I'd like to reflect with a few hyphens: caramelised-lemonpeel-mineral-petrol; yellowfruit-wax-pineapple; cinnamon-raisins; and cavestone-water-mineral. Got it?
Now, with a bouquet that screams substantial, ageing Riesling I was surprised at how fresh the wine felt on the tongue. Lots of mineral almost sucking up the very edgy acidity, and then there are matching flavours driven by lime and some lemon. The Riesling from the Kirchberg vineyard is muscular, but in a lean way, more like a fencer than a wrestler. It ends on a delightful finish dominated by crunchy mineral, bitter citrus and what reminded me of a cucumber-herb-vinegar-dressing (hello again, hyphen). More of this, please!