Wine critics love Riesling. Just last month, a dozen professional wine judges at the Critics Challenge International Wine Competition in San Diego voted the 2006 Angove’s Riesling ‘Vineyard Select’ ($17) from Clare Valley, Australia, ‘Wine of the Year,’ over a superb têtes de cuvée Champagne. But as the following anecdote shows, consumers are still fearful of the variety.
I was the only “wine guy” in a group of 22 at dinner at a lovely Sacramento restaurant, Lemongrass (601 Munroe Street, an address worth remembering) serving a combination of stylish Thai and Vietnamese food. The remainder of the group mirrored the American consumers’ varied interests in wine.
A few ordered gin and tonics, another wanted “a glass of white wine,” and a third person opted for a glass of Merlot. Others demonstrated more than a passing familiarity when they ordered wine. The kitchen did a masterful job preparing a wide array of foods — Ahi tuna, pad Thai, green chicken curry, quickly sautéed steak, pork medallions and lamb chops with a Franco-Vietnamese twist.
The dishes were flavorful and highlighted a perfect balance of sweetness and spice — not overwhelming heat. We were spread over three large tables, so several individuals independently wound up ordering the wine, which included a California Chardonnay and an Oregon Pinot Noir.
I selected a 2006 Eroica Riesling from Washington State, the product of a joint venture between Germany’s Dr. Loosen and Washington’s Chateau Ste. Michelle. It was an unplanned, but perfect opportunity to explore a real-world food, wine and people pairing. (Settings like this one always remind me of advice given by Bob Harkey, owner of Harkey’s Fine Wines, a stellar wine shop in Millis, Massachusetts, a suburb of Boston, ‘Match the wine to the guests, not the food.’)
The group’s strong preference was for the Eroica, a superb Riesling that was a gorgeous match to the wide spectrum of food. We wound up depleting the restaurant’s stock.
The Riesling’s unbeatable combination of subtle sweetness and vibrant acidity cut through the assertive flavors of the food. Everyone who tried it — even the gin and tonic afficiandos — loved it whether they had ordered steak, tuna or green curry.
It was a fabulous foil for the delicate spring rolls, zesty Thai chicken salad and other appetizers as well as the more substantially flavored main courses. The Pinot Noir and Chardonnay — both of which were fine before the food arrived — had the proper weight. But the spice of the food soon overwhelmed them. Each worked with the occasional dish, but neither captured anyone’s attention throughout the entire meal.
Most of the diners were surprised that I had ordered Riesling. More than one commented, “I’d never order Riesling because you don’t know how sweet it will be.” That’s the paradox. Riesling is the most versatile food wine, yet people are scared to order it.
Producers in New York’s Finger Lakes region, this country’s best overall source for Riesling, have made an effort to solve the problem by labeling theirs “Dry” or “Semi-Dry.”
Those words don’t describe the wines precisely — and every producer defines the terms differently — but at least it’s a start.
Listing the residual sugar isn’t the answer because it’s the balance of acid and sugar that determines a wine’s level of sweetness. (Often a little residual sugar amplifies Riesling’s appealing minerality.)
Riesling producers will be eternally grateful to someone who can come up with a reproducible, objective, easy-to-decipher “sweetness scale.” Pending that, restaurants would be wise to offer customers a taste as a way to encourage them to order this quintessential “food wine.”
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