The extreme wine
It was the best of times, it was gewürz of times
by Thor Iverson
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The problem, of course, is the name. Gewürztraminer.
Gewürztraminer. Geh-vurtz-tra-mee-nairh. If you're reading
this out loud, you've either hurt your tongue or convinced everyone around you
that you're loony. Ignore
them, or tell them you're talking about one of the most interesting wines in
the world. Maybe they'll send you some at the funny farm.
Gewürztraminer. Say it like you're about to invade France. Because that's
what this grape did a few centuries ago, migrating from northeastern Italy to
Germany, and finally to Alsace.
And although it can be delicious no matter
where it's grown, it has reached its fullest expression in that region of
France (where it's pronounced "geh-vehrz-tra-mee-nairh" and loses the
umlaut).
And I do mean fullest. Great gewürztraminer (gewürz for
short) tastes like nothing else: big, fat, oily, and thick, with flavors of
lychee, roasted nut, crushed flowers, and spice ("gewürz" means spice in
German). You'll never mistake it for any other wine. You might not even like
it; gewürz has as many passionate detractors as it has admirers.
Gewürz is to wine what Megadeth is to music; you may not enjoy it, but
it's hard to ignore.
Gewürztraminer is a white grape, but you wouldn't know it from the vivid
red color it achieves in the vineyard. Those dark skins help contribute to the
color of most gewürz, a viscous deep gold that matches the smell and taste
of the wine in intensity. In fact, gewürztraminer is so strong that
it performs more like a red wine than a white when it comes to food matching.
It can handle spicy food, complex food, and the kind of food for which you'd
otherwise choose beer. It stands up to red meat without batting an eye. And in
some cases, it can even handle dessert.
Dessert? That's right. Gewürz grapes get ripe very quickly, and
fermenting them to full dryness can leave them with an alcohol level over 14
percent and a hot, unbalanced
taste. So some winemakers leave a little
residual sugar
in their gewürz, which keeps the alcohol lower and helps
balance out
the wine. It also yields slightly sweeter results. In
Alsace, vendange
tardive and sélection des grains nobles
gewürztraminers are almost always sweet, and are served with either the
stinkiest of cheeses or foie gras, or as the dessert itself.
Unfortunately, quick ripening can also mean low
acid levels. When that
happens, gewürz -- dry or sweet -- gets flabby. It can still be very
tasty, but it's less compatible with food and
will not age. When there's proper
acidity,
however, gewürz can age for five or 10 years, or longer. With
age, it gets even spicier, even racier, even more gewürz-y, so if you
don't like it young you'll absolutely despise it old. Devotees, on the other
hand, will love it even more.
When it's made in Alsace, gewürz more often possesses most of the big,
full, fat qualities it's capable of. In Germany, the wine tends to be more
austere, has a stronger mineral
component, and rarely has problems with low
acidity -- indeed, the opposite is sometimes the case (which can make one's
first German gewürz a rather zingy surprise). Italian gewürz (also
called traminer aromatico, or just traminer -- though the latter
is technically a different grape) is much thinner, and teeters on the edge of
dullness from all but the best producers. American gewürz is hit-or-miss,
with most examples being sweet, flabby, and pretty disgusting -- but there are
some great bottles from devoted producers, usually based on fruit grown in
higher elevations or in colder regions. The brave new world for gewürz,
however, appears to be New Zealand, where a fruitier character is added to its
spicy richness.
Gewürztraminer. Say it. Or just drink it. And then say it with your mouth
full of wine. But don't do it around your friends, who are already a bit
concerned.
A note on buying: you shouldn't have much trouble finding gewürztraminer
in the Alsatian section of any specialty wine shop. Just ask. Almost anything
from Alsace or Germany is worth a try. Be wary of New World
gewürztraminers, except those from New Zealand (Huia makes a tasty and
widely available wine). For Italian wines, restrict yourself to the Alto Adige
region.
1996 Storrs Gewürztraminer Monterey Viento Vineyard ($11.99). One
of the best American gewürztraminers, with a mélange of pecan,
citrus, tropical-fruit, and cream-pie flavors. Very slightly sweet, but with
excellent balancing
acidity and a long finish.
1996 Fitz-Ritter Dürkheimer Nonnengarten Gewürztraminer
Spätlese ($11.99). Light spice and cashew, sweet lemon and orange,
cinnamon, caramelized onions, and a strong sense of sweetness balanced out by
strong acidity. A guiltless pleasure; it's heady without being heavy. The '97,
slightly lighter and more direct, is in stores for a few dollars more.
1997 Mill Creek Gewürztraminer Dry Creek ($14). Pure lychee syrup,
a touch candied but with intense and delicious grapefruit, lime, and
chrysanthemum aromas. Spicy decadence on the finish. ("Hey waiter, there's
chrysanthemums in my gewürztraminer!" "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to
talk with your mouth full?")
1995 Rolly Gassmann Gewurztraminer ($15). The fat, smoky style of
classic Alsace gewürztraminer. Some powdery cane-sugar flavors, along with
buttermint and pine. Drink now.
1993 Pierre Sparr Gewurztraminer Grand Cru Mambourg ($18.25). Last
year's Thanksgiving
wine at my house. Still showing beautifully, with strong
minerality,
lychee, and a friendly honeydew flavor dusted with nuts.
1996 Brancott Gewürztraminer Gisborne Patutahi Estate ($24).
Insanely over-the-top bitter banana and raw nut flavors, with rich tropicality
and some wet stones. Fascinating.
Thor Iverson can be reached at wine@phx.com.
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