Christkindlmarket Chicago mulled wine glühwein

Mulled Wine

In general, I’m not a fan of adding things to wine. Wine, for me, is an art object, I want to experience it was it was intended and contemplate it without distraction. The addition of orange juice, fruit, sugar, spices, or whatever doesn’t really fit my concept of what wine is and should be. Even so, I recognize it’s a popular practice, whether it’s brunch with mom, summers around the grill, or holidays with friends, people like drinking adulterated wine. Never was this more apparent to me than on my first trip to the Christkindlmarket.

Christkindlmarket Chicago

This is my third Christmas in the city and, while I’ve heard people talk about going to Christkindlmarket, I’d never really paid much attention to it. In the age of internet shopping, I didn’t really see the appeal of an outdoor winter shopping festival… until I found out they were serving traditional mulled wine, glühwein, and German street food. I was in.

I walked to the market from Merchandise Mart one day after work. The forecast was calling for rain, so it seemed I was only going to have a short window, but I also knew that probably meant it would be less crowded. I wasn’t disappointed.

Christkindlmarket Chicago mulled wine glühwein

Within five minutes of arriving I had a mug of mulled wine and was laughing with strangers as I shoved leberkäse in my face. The atmosphere of the place was infectious, you couldn’t help but be happy. It was obvious why everyone had spoken so well of it and I felt a little foolish for not taking the opportunity to visit sooner. If Christmas was a place it wouldn’t be the North Pole, it would be here.

Now, one of the big problems at work is that we always have open bottles of wine and with so many private parties requesting specific bottles this time of year, we just can’t seem to go through the stuff fast enough. Inspired by my experience at Christkindl, I decided to convert some of the wine that was on the verge of spoiling into mulled wine. Pouring it all into one big pot, I let it simmer with some allspice, clove, nutmeg, cinnamon sticks, sugar, and orange slices. It took some tweaking, a little more of this to offset that and so on, but in the end it all came together and I finally understood the utility of being able to alter a wine like this. If you have a luckluster wine or one on the verge of going bad, mulling is a great way to breathe some life back into it.

cinnamon stick

While this is all new to me, for those who grew up around wine the idea of mulling is more rooted in tradition and nostalgia. It’s part of the holidays, something to look forward to. After trying it, I can see why, that warm spicy sensation is like a hug from a distant relative, except that it gets you drunk, and nearly every European country has some variation of this in their culture.

For those of you who, like me, are reluctant to alter a bottle of perfectly good wine, there’s hope, you can buy glühwein by the bottle. I was skeptical of this at first, but I had it on good authority that it was legit. After buying a bottle and trying it for myself, I have to agree, I’m not sure I could tell you the difference between what I bought at the market, what I made at work, and the stuff out of the bottle.

Christkindlmarket Chicago mulled wine glühwein

No matter how you find it, glühwein is worth seeking out.

Czar Lazar Serbian Red Wine

Wine Diary: Czar Lazar Semi-Dry Non-Vintage

When I started this website, one of the first wines I wrote about was Czar Lazar Semi-Dry. When I decided to re-brand, putting more emphasis on my own photography instead of relying on stock photos, I took down everything and started all over.The thing is, I really liked some of the old posts, I just didn’t have good images to pair with the blog, so I went back to Cardinal Wine and Spirits to buy another bottle of this, making sure I shot better photos this time around.

I’m not going to lie, Czar Lazar sounds like some forgotten Captain America villain that would only find screen time long after the franchise jumped the shark. I wanted to understand his significance, so I looked him up, here’s a brief note for my historically minded readers: Lazar Hrebeljanović was a 14thcentury Serbian ruler who maintained a strong and prosperous state,he died in the battle of Kosovo on June 15th1389 while fighting the invading Ottoman army. He is an important cultural figure to Serbia and a saint in the Orthodox Christian Church, and he also has a wine named after him.

This was my second Serbian wine I’ve tried, the other was from the same producer and they were both off dry. A lot of the Eastern European wines I’ve encountered are a little sweet, which I think one of the reasons so many people disregard them. I’m guilty of it too, I caught myself hesitating to buy this because I didn’t want something that was too sweet. Look, the only reason an off dry or semi-dry wine would ever be “too sweet” was if it was unbalanced, and there’s a risk of that with every wine you buy. When I realized what I was doing, I made myself buy a bottle to take home, I’m glad I did.

The wine had a gorgeous deep garnet color. There was a lot of black fruit in the nose, with some earthy, vegetal, aromas hiding underneath. The body was just a touch heavier than medium, subtle tannin, off dry with a well balanced acidity, dominating black cherry flavors, and a touch of wet leaves. It was everything I ever want out of California Pinot Noir, but can never find.

Don’t let my last statement mislead you, this isn’t Pinot Noir. According to producer’s website, Czar Lazar is made from a blend of Prokupac, Vranac, Merlot, and Games. The first two are pretty common Eastern European varietals, and Merlot is a rock star grape everyone should be familiar with, but what is Games? My first thought was that it was a regional spelling of Gamay, but Jancis Robinson’s book on wine grapes leads me to believe it’s Blaufränkisch.

The other interesting thing about this wine is that it appears to be non-vintage. There’s no harvest year listed anywhere on the label. So, beyond being a blend of grapes, it could also be a blend of vintages. There’s not a lot of information on the website, if anyone knows the details, fill me in.

Lastly, and one of my favorite things about wines from Eastern Europe, this cost only me $5.99. The website lists this as a table wine, something for a weeknight meal, not a special occasion and that’s exactly how I’d look at it. If you need a weeknight red, this is great choice,because it has more complexity than the average bottle or box in the same price range.

But that’s my opinion, if you’ve had the chance to try it, let me know what you think.

Querceto Chianti Classico red wine sangiovese

Wine Diary: Querceto Chianti Classico 2016

There’s something Americans find romantic about Tuscany. Seriously, just say the word and watch their eyes roll back in their skulls as waves of micro-orgasms penetrate the hidden corners of their mind. It doesn’t matter if you’re describing the place itself or can of chunky soup, there’s just something about the idea of Tuscany that satisfies the imagination like no other place can. We just find it romantic and I think the Italians know that, otherwise how could you explain something like this, a bottle of Chianti Classico with a unicorn on the label? I mean, c’mon, there’s already a castle overlooking the vineyard, at a certain point it’s not even fair; just take our money, please, we’d be honored for you to have it.

Querceto Chianti Classico red wine sangiovese

Querceto Chianti Classico is a blend of 92% Sangiovese with the remaining 8% consisting of Canaiolo, Colorino, and Mammolo e Ciliegiolo, if you’ve never heard of those last three, don’t worry, they’re not grapes you’re likely to find outside of Chianti. The wine spends six months in wood (I assume oak, but that was not specified on their website) and then aged in the bottle for a further two months before being released to consumers. They offer several different Chianti Classico labels, as well as other wines, and even olive oil.

Querceto Chianti Classico red wine sangiovese

Like I said before, there’s a castle overlooking the vineyard, they offer tours of the vineyard, cellar, and castle. There’s also rooms available to rent, should you want to spend your vacation there. Personally, I’ve never been to Tuscany, but if I was going this looks exactly like the kind of place I would want to go to get away from everything. Just look at the photos and you understand why people get that dreamy look in their eye at the mere mention of the region.

Querceto Chianti Classico red wine sangiovese

As for the wine, it was good. I’m not always a fan of Chianti, Classico or otherwise, but I enjoyed this. It was surprisingly tannic for such a light wine, so it paired well with my steak, but may not have performed so well with a lighter pasta dish. It was well-balanced, with good acidity, red fruit and spice flavors. All in all, I would recommend it.

Italian wine is kind of intimidating for me, it’s not something I’ve explored much and it’s a deep rabbit hole to fall into. We sell a few Iabels at work and I’ve delved in a little for the Chopping Block’s blog, I actually wrote a post exploring the differences between Chianti and Chianti Classico at the beginning of last year, but there’s so much more for me to learn about that county. I know that when I finally decide to take it on it’s going to require a lot more focus and energy than other areas, simply because there are so many new grapes and every region has its own unique personality; it’s just overwhelming. That’s really it, I know its going to demand so much of my attention that I’m afraid I’m going to miss out on something else. I’m not usually a fan of New Year’s resolutions, but this might be mine for 2019, to drink and learn more about Italian wine.

Querceto Chianti Classico red wine sangiovese

However, that’s all in the future. For the moment, I think the real takeaway, the moral lesson that needs to be understood here is, that if you find a bottle of wine with a unicorn on it, you should buy it.

Chateau Ducasse Bordeaux Graves Blanc white wine Sémillon Sauvignon Blanc

Wine Diary: Chateau Ducasse Graves Blanc 2016

The problem with having a little bit of knowledge is that it can give you the false impression you understand something that you really know nothing about. That’s the way it is for me and Bordeaux blanc, we sell one at work, Chateau Lamothe, and over the past couple of years I’ve tasted it frequently. It’s important to be able to describe what you’re selling in your own words and wine, especially blended wine, can change significantly from vintage to vintage. Recently, our buyer decided to shake the list up, removing the Chateau Lamothe Bordeaux Blanc and replacing it with Chateau Ducasse Graves blanc. Naturally, I had to try it.

Chateau Ducasse Bordeaux Graves Blanc white wine Sémillon Sauvignon Blanc

So, why do I say I really don’t know much about this style of wine? Well, let’s be real, this is the third white wine I’ve tried from France’s Bordeaux region. When dealing with the average consumer who may not even realize Bordeaux makes white wine, that limited amount of experience can carry weight, but having tried three wines hardly makes me an expert, even if it’s three more bottles than most of the country has tried.

With all that being said, I have mixed feelings about this wine. I want to be generous, because I think my expectation of what the wine should be was not a fair standard to hold it to. While I have limited experience with Bordeaux blanc, this is a Graves blanc, and while Graves is part of Bordeaux, it’s still its own region. The other thing to note is this blend is also different than the other wines I’ve tried, in this case Sémillon comprising the majority part (60%) as opposed to Sauvignon Blanc (40%). In other words, as it’s not fair to compare an apple to an orange, it may not be fair for me to compare a Sauvignon Blanc Bordeaux blend against a Graves Sémillon blend.

Chateau Ducasse Bordeaux Graves Blanc white wine Sémillon Sauvignon Blanc

So, what we have is a clean, crisp, white wine with a nice balance of body and acid, but with a lot more punch than the other Bordeaux blanc I have tried. Basic Bordeaux, both red and white, tend to be pretty balanced wines from my experience, but, once again, this isn’t a Bordeaux, it’s a Graves and the flavor was far more aggressive than I expected. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, in fact, I think most Americans would probably prefer an “in your face” style of wine as opposed to something more delicate.

When I initially posted this blog, I erroneously linked to a write up from Kermit Lynch about a winemaker named Hervé Dubourdieu. Unfortunately, Hervé has absolutely nothing to do with this winery. It wasn’t until I was updating map links that I noticed that the label from his Chateau Ducasse was different from the wine I was referencing. While this isn’t uncommon, especially with imported wine, I suspected I had made an error when I found multiple wineries whose name contained some variation of “Chateau Ducasse.” The correct website is for Chateau Beauregard Ducasse, which provides a lovely overview of the winery’s history and winemaking techniques. Apologies to the Perromat family and Hervé Dubourdieu for the error.

Chateau Ducasse Bordeaux Graves Blanc white wine Sémillon Sauvignon Blanc

After dancing around the point for five hundred words, I guess I should just come right out and say what I think: I didn’t like this wine. I think it’s well made, I think it’s what it’s supposed to be, I just didn’t care for it. There’s a big difference between not liking a wine and a wine being bad. One of the reasons I’ve enjoyed other whites from Bordeaux is because they tend to be more neutral in their flavor, whereas this one has a more dominating grapefruit character that I, personally, find unpleasant. While I have difficulty recommending this wine because I didn’t care for it, I also can’t fairly speak against it because of my own bias.

On a personal level, I’m happy to have my presumed knowledge of Bordeaux white challenged so completely. One of the most important things for a person to know is what they don’t know, and in this I realize I don’t know much of anything about Bordeaux blanc. It’s a good thing, because I know more now than I did before and when I have my next bottle, I’ll be more prepared.

Hand Work Garnacha Tinto Spanish Wine

Wine Diary: Hand Work Garnacha 2017

Lincoln Square in Chicago has a surprisingly dense population of wine shops. There’s the Chopping Block, where I work, Gene’s Sausage Shop, Leland Liquors, Cardinal Wine and Spirits, and, my favorite wine shop in the area, Augusta Food and Wine. As much as I may enjoy the wine selection at work, Augusta does a far better job of curating their list and I find new things every time I go in. I would go so far as to say it’s one of the best wine shops in Chicago.

Hand Work Garnacha Tinto Spanish Wine

I was looking for something to review and I’d already hit the other shops in the neighborhood, so I decided to check out Augusta. Despite how much I like the shop, they don’t stock a lot of the counter-culture wines that I’ve come to love. No, Augusta is the place you go to find well made wines from mainstream locations. If you want sustainably produced wines that avoid the use of things like Mega Purple, Augusta is the kind of place you should be shopping.

As I’m building content for the site with these early posts, I wanted something from Spain to fill out the map and I needed a Garnacha Tinta for the Wine Guide. So, this bottle enabled me to cross two things off my to-do list, it didn’t hurt that it was a full 1L of wine at a very reasonable price. In fact, I probably would have been skeptical of this bottle at a different store, what with the flashy front label and all, it seemed too good to be true.

Hand Work Garnacha Tinto Spanish Wine

Hand Work Garnacha comes from Castilla La Mancha, Spain. Despite La Mancha being a Spanish appellation, I find no reference to a Denominación de Origen, anywhere on the label. However, there are three certifications on the back label: Demeter Biodynamic Certified, Vegano by the European Vegetarian Union, and USDA Organic. As well as an icon indicating this wine is a T. Edward (the importer) exclusive. According to the T. Edward, Hand Work is produced by three brothers who seek to, “celebrate their home of La Mancha by raising organically and biodynamically grown grapes.” The Parra Jimenez (the grower) website goes into a lot more detail on their sustainability practices, but, interestingly, I find no reference to this line of wines, I suspect this is due to it being exclusive to T. Edward.

This was one of those wines whose aroma was so fascinating I hesitated to drink it, I just walked around the apartment smelling my glass. I’ve heard people describe wines as meaty in the past, but I usually write that off as one of those terms that people use when they don’t know what else to say. People have used that term to describe such a broad selection of wines that the description has become almost meaningless for me. My understanding is that it’s supposed to serve as both a description of viscosity and flavor/aroma combinations, but I’ve never had a wine that actually tasted like meat… this wine tasted like meat. Specifically, it tasted like fruit with hints of steak marinated in Worscestershire sauce. Great complexity, great flavor. I couldn’t stop drinking it.

Hand Work Garnacha Tinto Spanish Wine

I’ve had great experiences with Garnacha (Grenache) blends from the Southern France, but I haven’t had as much luck in the grape’s native country of Spain. I knew there had to be great Spanish Garnacha wines out there, but I’ve been hesitant to really explore them after some lackluster purchases. This confirms my suspicions and makes me look forward to future purchases.

Monte Xanic Sauvignon Blanc Mexican wine

Wine Diary: Monte Xanic Sauvignon Blanc Viña Kristel 2017

Last week I made a post about my first experience with Mexican wine, a Cabernet Sauvignon/ Merlot blend from Monte Xanic in the Guadalupe Valley. If you haven’t read the post I’ll summarize: it was awesome.

Well, I actually bought another bottle from the same producer that day, a Sauvignon Blanc. As I mentioned, some of the chefs I know were skeptical about the quality of a wine coming out of Mexico and my enthusiasm wasn’t enough to dissuade their concerns. To be fair, I have something of a predilection for counter-culture wines, the bottles you assume must only be on the shelves to soothe the heartache of homesick ex-pats. However, when I mention that they’re also pouring this wine at the French Laundry, those harsh opinions suddenly seem a bit softer.

Monte Xanic Sauvignon Blanc Mexican wine

It’s funny what makes a wine good or bad in our minds. For me, there’s a big difference between disliking a wine and thinking a wine is bad. It’s not unheard of for me to dislike a perfectly well-made wine, but I wouldn’t make the leap in logic to call that a bad wine. For example, I generally don’t like Sauvignon Blanc, it doesn’t mean that grape is incapable of making good wine, it’s just not my thing, which is going seem ironic based on what I’m about to say.

This is one of the best Sauvignon Blanc wines I’ve had in recent memory, maybe ever. Despite what I said earlier I… I think I liked it. I mean, not only was it well made, but I enjoyed it. I would buy another bottle. I would buy another bottle and share with friends. I would buy another bottle and elope with it. The wine was well-balanced, with a symphony of herbal, citrus, and tropical flavors that lingered on the palate like a pleasant memory. More importantly, it wasn’t so overwhelmingly acidic that it left chemical burns down my esophagus, which I appreciate.

Monte Xanic Sauvignon Blanc Mexican wine

I bought this bottle because I wanted to try a wine from Mexico; I wanted to know if the disdain I heard in reference to fine wine coming out of that country was well founded or not. I had my reservations, not about the nation of origin, but about it being a Sauvignon Blanc (that’s why I drank the red wine first). Not only did they produce good wine, they produced wine I enjoyed. I guess my point is, don’t be afraid to try new things and, more importantly, don’t be afraid to try things other people scoff at. If they haven’t tried it, they don’t know what they’re talking about. To quote Hitchens, “That which can be asserted without evidence, can be dismissed without evidence.”

Wine Diary: First Drop Mother’s Milk Barossa Shiraz 2016

One of the first somms I worked with gave me a bit of advice that has proven fundamental to my outlook on wine. She said, “When you’re taking a bottle of wine somewhere, a dinner party or whatever, what wine you bring is far less important than the story of why you’re bringing it.” The more time has passed, the more I agree with that statement and that’s why I start of all these Wine Diary blogs with a story. I mean, the circumstances of why I chose one particular bottle aren’t really that important, it’s not like you as the reader are going to experience those same events, but there’s something about being told the story that seems to make the wine more familiar.

Australian red wine Barossa Valley First Drop Mother's Milk Shiraz Syrah

So, why did I choose First Drop Mother’s Milk Barossa Shiraz? Because I needed a Syrah for the wine guide and I hadn’t reviewed anything from Australia yet. It was a very conscious choice. I went to Binny’s, looked at their wall of Australian Syrah, and picked one. Why did I choose this one? Well, I was between two and when faced with that kind of dilemma I do what everyone else does, I pick the label I like best (don’t act like you don’t do the same thing), but, interestingly, the label I chose is the one that told me a story.

The label utilizes comic book storytelling to tell, in brief, the story of how wine is made. There’s really nothing interesting happening on the label, the story they’re telling is somewhat universal to the wine world, but that also makes it very approachable. Presenting rustic agricultural imagery in an unconventional way, they attempt to convey both an appeal to traditional and modern sensibilities.

Australian red wine Barossa Valley First Drop Mother's Milk Shiraz Syrah

First Drop was founded by two friends who say they want to make, “wines with flavour, texture and a splash of funk.” They’re not growers, but they source their grapes from vineyards around South Australia. The grapes for this particular wine come from the Barossa Valley and are aged in French Oak for 15 months.

The wine was full-bodied with lots of dark fruit, and hints of anise, and tobacco. There was a ton of complexity, yet it remained approachable and easy to drink. A rare find, I was very pleased. It was the kind of wine you finish and wonder why the bottle is suddenly empty and where you can find more.

Australian red wine Barossa Valley First Drop Mother's Milk Shiraz Syrah

There’s a part of me that cringes at being sold on the label. What can I say? I like comics, and that puts me squarely within the demographic they were shooting for. As much as I hate to admit it, it worked. And the same way it worked on me, I know I could take this wine to my comic geek friends and they’d likely be sold on it for the same reasons. The fact I liked the wine is really just an added bonus, it was the story that sold the bottle.

sparkling wine Sparkling Rosé gruet wine bottle label

Wine Diary: Gruet Sparkling Brut Rosé

Outside of this site, I also write a monthly wine blog for the Chopping Block. With Thanksgiving coming, I decided to feature a wine off their list as my pick for the perfect Thanksgiving dinner pairing. I settled on their new sparkling rosé, which also works out because I’ve been wanting to find a Pinot Noir to write about for this site, and I can be pretty damn picky about Pinot.

Sparkling Rosé wine bottle label Gruet

I’m both a fan of sparkling rosé and not, it’s easy to drink and non-offensive, but usually because it’s lacking in complexity and sometimes even sweet. It also has the added bonus of pairing nicely with a broad range of food. Also, it’s a great wine to share with your friends who don’t really drink wine and if you have a reputation for being kind of a snob, it diffuses that nicely. However, if your friends are wine snobs, they’ll probably turn their nose up at this and voice their dissatisfaction out of some condescending, elitist, sense of obligation. In short, it’s not right for every situation, but if you want something fun and easy to drink, it’s a solid choice.

Gruet Brut Rosé is produced in New Mexico, just outside of Albuquerque. Their website tells the story of a family of Champagne producers traveling through the area in the early 80’s while on vacation. They were impressed by local wines and saw potential in the region for winemaking, so they decided to expand their operation. In 1984 the younger generation of the family relocated to the United States and by 1989 they released their first vintage.

close-up brut Sparkling Rosé wine

The wine is produced from 100% Pinot Noir grapes. It has an intense raspberry flavor, with hints of ginger, and a very creamy texture. The acidity was bright and it wasn’t overly sweet. I found it to have more complexity than I usually see in this style of wine. Overall, I was impressed, which is is rare for me with rosé, sparkling or otherwise.

Sparkling Rosé gruet brut wine

The word I keep coming back to with this wine is “fun” and I think that be the perfect description. Wine tasting can be a very ponderous and serious activity sometimes, and when you’re trying to coax tasting notes out of a stubborn Bordeaux it can be easy to loose sight of why you’re drinking the wine in the first place. Gruet Brut Rosé is the kind of wine that isn’t going to let you forget you’re supposed to be having fun and I did, at every step of this process, from popping the cork to color correcting my pictures several days, even writing two blogs about it, at no point did this feel like a chore.

A friend from Germany once told me that Americans don’t drink enough sparkling wine and I’ve taken that to heart, trying to fit it into my rotation of wine purchases. I no longer really see it as something to pair with celebrations, but as a celebration itself. There’s something about sparkling wine that’s just fun, and we all use a little more of that in our lives.

Sparkling Rosé wine bottle glass

Monte Xanic Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot wine bottle label

Wine Diary: Monte Xanic Cabernet Sauvignon Merlot 2015

My brother called one night asking what I knew about Mexican wine. It was a short conversation, because I really didn’t know anything. He had just returned from a trip to Baja and had the opportunity to sample wines from a couple of wineries in the Guadalupe Valley. Now, this guy is a die hard fan of Napa reds, but he told me that the wines he sampled were on par with wines he liked from Napa. Obviously, I was intrigued.

In the United States there is almost an immediate dismissal of anything that comes out of Mexico (except street food), I’ve watched multiple chefs scoff of the very idea of Mexican wine while simultaneously acknowledging they’ve never tried any. Couple that with the fact it’s already difficult to find wines from any country that doesn’t have an established wine reputation and you’ll understand why it took me a while to get my hands on wine from Mexico.

wine cork monte xanic
After a couple of months, I was searching shelves at Binny’s when a clerk approached me to see if I needed help. Usually, I dismiss them because I’m never really sure what I want, but I decided to ask if they carried Mexican wine. We walked through the store searching all the shelves I had already looked through until we came to the “Domestic Reds” shelf where we found it just sitting on the bottom in the middle of miscellaneous California wines. To my delight, it was from the same winery my brother had visited.

Monte Xanic is in the wine region of Baja California. According to their website, the area has a microclimate similar to the Mediterranean, specifically Southeast France. Wine was introduced to the to the region by Christian missionaries in the late 18th or early 19th century.

The wine I picked up was a Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot blend that has seen 12 months of aging in French oak. For all the skeptics let me say, this might be the best red blend I tried in 2018. I would easily set this against anything I’ve tried from Napa or Bordeaux. It had a nice balance of fruit and spice flavors, tannin that were present, but not overly aggressive. For the price, this wine may be unbeatable and it’s always a good day when persistence and curiosity are rewarded.

So, I texted my brother and here was his response.

 

 

German Saar Mosel Riesling Hofgut Falkenstein white wine glass cork

Wine Diary: Hofgut Falkenstein Krettnacher Euchariusberg Kabinett Riesling 2016

Out of an entire wall of German Riesling this bottle somehow caught my eye. I think I liked the name, we used to sell a Riesling at the Chopping Block from Dr. Frank wines that the staff affectionately dubbed, “That Dr. Frankenstein wine,” …because we’re culinary professionals. I usually try not to get sold by a label, but in this case, I guess I was sold on the name; it reminded me of the immature laughter of some people I truly care about, I had to buy it. In my search for information about the winery, I stumbled across Lars Carlsberg’s write up, which quickly made me realize I don’t know shit about German Riesling.

German white wine Riesling Saar Mosel bottle glass

Hofgut Falkenstein is in the Mosel region of Germany, named for the Mosel River which twists its way through Germany, Luxembourg, and France. However, it may more accurately be linked to the Saar River, a tributary of the Mosel with a longstanding reputation for great Riesling wines. Carlsberg gives an impressive write-up of both winemaker and winery, peppering technical details in between personal anecdotes. If you’re interested in learning more about Mosel wines, his website is an amazing resource.

I can’t help that feel I’m biting off more than I can chew with this blog or, perhaps, uncorking more than I can drink. From Carlsberg’s write-up, this is everything I claim to want out of a wine: produced by a small family of passionate of winemakers in a very rustic, artisanal, method. Part of me wants to a book a flight to Germany just to meet these people. I should be volunteering to pick up their banner and carry it into battle against the Constellations and Broncos of the world, but in the end the wine just didn’t resonate with me.

The wine had complexity and impressive flavors, but it finished quickly and seemed unbalanced in its sweetness. From my perspective as a retailer, it’s exactly the kind of Riesling Americans are afraid of, sweet without a complimentary acidity. I would be reluctant to stock this in my store, unless I was offering a sweet alternative to Moscato. That being said, I finished the bottle by myself and enjoyed every bit of it, but I’ve had better.

Hofgut Falkenstein cork

My ratings on German Rieslings are generally favorable, so much so that I often wonder if I’m showing bias when I rate these wines on Vivino. This wine scored low for me, nearly a full point below the aggregate score, and I’m very conflicted about that. Perhaps this is an issue of my expectations being at odds with reality, or maybe I was just having an off day, or maybe my assessment is right and I’m simply questioning myself because I want to like this wine so badly. Instead of buying into a label or a name, have I simply allowed myself to be sold on the idea of the artisanal winemaker?

There is no doubt that the world of German Riesling is much more complex than I understand it to be and I’m looking forward to diving deeper into that rabbithole. Maybe in time I’ll be able to wax poetic about the nuances of Saar Rieslings compared to the greater Mosel region or Rheinhessen. For the moment, I have to leave this wine where it is, but I hope to return to it one day and give it another chance. If you’ve tried this wine or have strong opinions on German Riesling in general, I’d love to hear what you think in the comments below.