To me, one of the pleasures of drinking wine is learning about its origins.
Did it derive from grapes grown on a chilly and steep mountainside in Argentina, in the salty sea air of Galicia, or on a windy Greek island in the Mediterranean?
I recently tasted a Gentil Hugel AOC 2103 produced from grapes grown on the dry and sunny eastern slopes of the Vosges Mountains in Alsace. Because of the abundant sunshine in this part of France, the grapes mature to high levels of ripeness. The resulting wines tend to be rich and full-bodied while retaining their bracing acidity.
“Gentil” on the label of an Alsatian wine means it’s a blend of four “noble” grapes: Riesling, Muscat, Gewurtztraminer and Pinot Gris. In a Gentil blend, the grapes may not be of sufficient high quality to find their way into a single varietal wine, but together, they make up for each others’ shortcomings. I found this particular Gentil to be floral and peppery, a delightful complement to spicy salmon or tuna sushi.
Someday, I’d love to travel to Alsace to soak up the sunshine and tour the wineries. I’d certainly want to visit Strasbourg, one of the medieval capitals of Europe, to admire the half-timbered houses and Gothic cathedral. The culture in this region of France is part French and part German. I’d order a local Riesling to drink with a traditional meat stew served over noodles.
After that, I’d hop across the Rhine to Baden to sample German Spätburgunder (Pinot Noir) and perhaps travel north to the Rheingau to compare German Riesling to its Alsatian cousin.
In the meantime, I don’t need to pack my bags or dig out my passport. Wine transports me to other cultures and traditions.
Of course, a well-made wine can and should be appreciated as a sensory experience on its own merits. Taking an imaginary journey to its homeland, though, can enhance the experience.