WTN: 2003 Merkelbach Riesling Spätlese, Kinheimer Rosenberg, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer
The small village of Ürzig sits on one of many bends in the middle portion of Germany's snake-like Mosel river. The few streets in the town stop abruptly when they run into the seventy-degree-or-more slope of the Ürziger Würzgarten, one of the best vineyards in a region abundant with great sites. On Brunnenstraβe, in a pleasant home, the seventy-year-old Merkelbach brothers produce clean, simple Riesling: the most traditional Mosel wines, says everyone who knows of them.
Alfred Merkelbach's name dominates the label but his younger brother Rolf, who seems to have a perpetual giggle, is just as involved. The two brothers do everything themselves, from racking the wines between the neutral-oak barrels to harvesting the precariously perched vines they own in the Ürziger Würzgarten, Erdener Treppchen, and the Kinheimer Rosenberg vineyards. Even much younger producers hire Polish teams to collect the grapes on the steep slopes.
The past is important to the Merkelbachs. A picture of their great-grandparents hangs on the wall of the living room. Their ancestors are looking out the window of the exact same house the brothers still occupy. They make wine the same way their father did fifty years ago. "Why haven't you adopted any of the changes other wine makers have," I asked them (through Bill Mayer, one of the best retail sources for the wine) when Melissa and I visited their home in May. But the wine itself is the answer: Who would have the heart to change such a precious thing? "Of all the estates we visited," says Bill of a tour group he led, "this produced the strongest impression. The bulk of my sales of Merkelbach's '03s came from the group. They were there. And they knew. What they knew is not so easy to describe." Melissa and I understand. When we unexpectedly saw a Merkelbach on the wine list at Artisanal in New York City, we eagerly told the waiter about the brothers. We burbled. We enthused. I imagine he thought we were crazy. He humored us, at any rate.
There is magic in a Merkelbach wine. It is a glimpse into some better world, some happier place. The wine they produce is their blood; it's their passion. Terry Theise, who imports the wine, tells of Alfred's response to a question about vacation. "Where would we go?" says Alfred, "When I'm on the slopes standing among my vines on a sunny day with a view of the Mosel behind me, I have everything I need to be happy." The brothers are still spry, but they have no heirs. If I could grant immortality, I would grant it to Rolf and Alfred, just so their pure and lovely wines would always be there to remind people of the greatness we can achieve.
Are there less than two hundred fifty cases of the 2003 Kinheimer Rosenberg Spätlese, as Fatemeh requested for this round of Wine Blogging Wednesday? Probably. The estate only produces fifteen hundred cases total, and like every German wine maker they produce a slew of labels. The wine is crystal clear, but the subtle pineapple notes and lower acidity tell the tale of 2003's hot vintage. I often find a taste of Honey Nut Cheerios in Mosel wines, and this wine had it subtly on the finish. It went well with a beautiful piece of pan-seared halibut, served atop sautéed spinach and squid ink pasta and doused with a lime-basil beurre blanc.
But this is one of those wines that prove how inadequate modern tasting notes have become. You can't do this wine justice to someone who has never met the brothers. It's like the feeling that causes your friends to say you have a spring in your step. It is a child's happy laugh (perhaps Rolf's giggles have floated into the wine). It is so many things, and yet so few: just Riesling grown on a stellar site, meticulously looked after by two people who care deeply about their product.
Technorati tags: food & drink | wine blogging wednesday | wbw | wine | tasting notes
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