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September 4, 2002, Wednesday DINING IN, DINING OUT/STYLE DESK WINES OF THE TIMES;
The panel -- Eric Asimov; Amanda Hesser; our guest, Joshua Wesson, co-chief executive of Best Cellars Inc., which owns several retail wine shops; and I -- zeroed in on 15 United States rieslings, with 6 from New York State, 5 from California and 4 from Washington. Needless to say, overall opinions varied. ''I would drink most of these and not complain,'' Mr. Wesson said. Both Mr. Asimov and I agreed that California should not waste time with riesling, and that the Finger Lakes rieslings were closer to what rieslings should be. And in fact, the top two rieslings for the panel were from the Finger Lakes, with a third tied for third. Ms. Hesser thought that many of the 15 we tasted were pleasant, though not thrilling. Much of the renewed interest in the riesling grape has centered, as it should, on German and Alsatian examples, but contrary to most expectations, Americans have begun to turn out fine versions of our own. There is some question as to who started the riesling renaissance, but there is little doubt what happened to the variety that made this comeback necessary. It was those Californians. They took a perfectly good grape and for a century made really bad wine with it. People forget now, but in its earliest days, the Northern California wine country had a Teutonic air to it. Winemakers with names like Dresel and Schram and Gundlach imported German grape varieties in the 1850's and 60's and made what they called riesling from them. Most were failures; California was simply too hot for the grape. The ''rieslings'' that survived were often blends of a touch of riesling and lots of sylvaner, folle blanche and other California-friendly varieties. By the 1950's, California riesling was little more than jug wine, scorned by anyone who had tasted the real thing. Today, there are some good California rieslings -- by Smith-Madrone in the Napa Valley, by Navarro in Mendocino, and a handful of others. But the grape is unlikely ever to play an important role on the California wine scene. The real excitement these days is in New York State, specifically in the Finger Lakes region. The father of riesling in New York was Dr. Konstantin Frank, a Ukrainian immigrant, who planted his first grapes above Keuka Lake in the 1960's. Before him, the only commercial grapes grown in the region were native varieties and hybrids. Dr. Frank wanted to grow pure vinifera, the grapes of Europe and California. Whether they were cabernet sauvignon or riesling was secondary. Dr. Frank proved his point. Today various vinifera varieties are grown in the region, but the only one to catch on has been riesling. In fact, the climate, the soil and the topography of the Finger Lakes are close to that of the best German wine regions. Dr. Frank's work is carried on by his son Willy and grandson Fred. It was a 2001 dry Johannisberg riesling from the vineyards of Dr. Frank that was tops in our tasting, with three stars. At $12, it was also the best value. A clear winner, this Frank wine had good fruit, Mr. Asimov said, while Mr. Wesson liked its balance and ''sense of place'' and Ms. Hesser its elegance. I thought it was true to type. In second place, with two and a half stars, was another Finger Lakes wine, a 2001 dry riesling from Chateau LaFayette Reneau, on Seneca Lake, at $13. Ms. Hesser thought this wine had ''all the qualities of a classic riesling,'' citing its complexity and rich floral aroma. I liked its understatement. Tied for third were a 2000 Smith-Madrone Napa Valley riesling, at $18; a 2001 dry Johannisberg riesling from Hermann J. Wiemer, $13; and a 2001 Eroica for $20, a wine from the Columbia Valley in Washington, produced jointly by Chateau Ste. Michelle and Dr. Loosen, a prominent German producer. Mr. Asimov thought the Smith-Madrone had real riesling character, and liked it better than did the rest of us. As for the Wiemer, Mr. Wesson thought it was ''almost too quiet,'' while Mr. Asimov found it ''light and graceful.'' Everyone found the Eroica, in Mr. Wesson's words, ''easy to drink.'' Mr. Wiemer, whose winery and vineyards are on Seneca Lake, is as well known as the Franks. A native of Bernkastel, in Germany, he is descended from many generations of winemakers in the Mosel region. He makes prize-winning rieslings and also runs a nursery that supplies grapevines to vineyards all over the United States. The rise of riesling in the Finger Lakes is only a modest victory over hybrid grapes. Hybrids still occupy some 80 percent of all the vineyard area. Riesling is a difficult grape to grow and, for a newcomer to wine, equally difficult to appreciate. It can be austere and steely, with breathtaking acidity to match its intense fruit. A good riesling hits you right away. Only in the sweeter versions can it be considered user-friendly. For occasional drinkers, a great riesling can be a turnoff. For its committed fans, however, it is the finest grape in the world. In recent years, Washington wineries have been experimenting with riesling, while one well-known California winemaker, Randall Grahm at Bonny Doon Vineyards, is blending his own riesling with wine from Germany. His 2000 Pacific Rim dry riesling, $11, scored one and a half stars. We questioned whether a half-American, half-German qualified for a domestic tasting. There were no strong objections. I liked the Pacific Rim as a food wine, but Ms. Hesser thought it was ''chewy and tough.'' Two other New York State rieslings made the Top 10 -- a 2000 by the Peconic Bay Winery on Long Island, $13, at one and a half stars, and a 2001 from the Red Newt Cellars of the Finger Lakes, $14, one star. The Hogue Cellars of Columbia Valley appealed to Ms. Hesser and me. Mr. Wesson noted enigmatically that it smelled like Topps bubble gum and made him nostalgic, presumably for more bubble gum. |