The Alsatian Paradox

Here’s a conundrum. All wine merchants love wine from the Alsace region of eastern France, which borders Germany. Its quality is consistently high; prices, relative to Chardonnays, are low. The Rieslings are versatile with traditional French cuisine. And the Pinot Gris and Gewurztraminers are the best possible match for Chinese and Pacific Rim cooking.

Cutting-edge wine drinkers, especially in California, are passionate about Alsace wines. The wnes are even on the brink of becoming fashionable. Yet Alsace wine sales are slugThe wines are unfashionable. gish. Why?

Some people are going to hate my raising this question--namely, Alsace lovers. “Why can’t you just keep quiet?,” they’ll say. “I have been buying my Clos Sainte-Hunes and Zind-Humbrechts at prices I can afford for years. More news media attention means prices will double and availability will evaporate, just as they do whenever some boutique California winery gets singled out.”

Well, I’m an Alsace lover too. I have vintages of Clos Sainte-Hune and the like going back to 1971 in the converted baby’s bedroom, which is the “cellar” at Cha^teau Coates. I too consider top Alsace the best wine steal in the world.

But I also believe that the ladies and gentlemen who produce these wines deserve more for the excellent wines they make. And I believe that more Americans should be enticed to join the secret society of Alsace freaks.

A bit of background on Alsace first.

This French wine region, which has often been part of Germany (most recently between 1871 and 1918), lies on the eastern flank of the Vosges mountains looking out toward the Rhine and the Black Forest. Geologically, it is a hodgepodge. There are granite and limestone; there are schist and slate and gres (a reddish-purple hard sandstone); there are marl and volcanic soil.

All these soils produce different-tasting wines, even in a single cellar and from a single grape variety. That in itself makes for a fascinating range of choices. And some winemakers, such as Zind-Humbrecht, have capitalized on this by bottling each of their vineyards separately.

Though the Alsace wine country is at roughly the same latitude as Paris and Champagne, and well north of the Loire region, let alone Burgundy, the Vosges mountains protect it from the westerly winds and rain. Summers are hot, autumns prolonged and vintages very rarely less than good. The wines are quite reliable.

The nomenclature, though at times perverse, is easy to understand. Varietal names are prominent on labels; there are 3 1/2 noble grape varieties (I’ll explain in a minute) and three lesser ones. The better wines come from 50 or so named grands crus or are called Cuvee This or Reserve Personnelle That. Sweeter wines are called Vendange Tardive (late harvest). Ultra-luscious wines, proclaimed Selection des Grains Nobles, are made from botrytis-affected fruit. That and, of course, the all-important name of the producer are all you need to know.

* The grapes. Riesling is the noblest Alsatian of them all. Flinty dry, normally with an aroma of peaches or Granny Smith apples, totally unencumbered by the flavor of oak and with the ability to last and last, this is one of the greatest white wine tastes in the world. Only Chardonnay comes anywhere near Alsatian Riesling in terms of finesse, complexity and concentration.

Gewurztraminer is spicy, fat, opulent and with a litchi-citrus peel flavor. Pinot Gris, formerly called Tokay (in error; it has nothing whatever to do with Hungary’s Tokaji), has a milder spiciness and a hint of barley sugar flavor. These two wines can also last in the cellar. And finally, Muscat--my semi-noble--is grown in small proportions, vinified dry and should be drunk young. I find it often more interesting on the nose than on the palate.

Pinot Blanc, Sylvaner and Chasselas are the lesser varieties, often combined to produce a “house” Alsace: a good wine to serve by the glass in restaurants. These cost no more than $9 a bottle retail. There is a little Pinot Noir, making a wine that is usually closer to rose than red. Alsace is really white wine country.

Though all wines should be best with food, none are so versatile or so rewarding as those of Alsace. Dry Rieslings--and most are dry--will go with anything from cold shellfish to roast chicken. I recently served a 10-year-old “Cuvee Frederick Emile” from the house of F.E. Trimbach at dinner. It was superb with a first course of seared scallops on spinach. With the next dish, pasta with porcini and white truffles, the wine showed quite differently but was just as good.

Riesling also goes admirably with smoked foods such as smoked salmon, though I prefer Pinot Gris or Gewurztraminer. The latter two wines also match anything with soy sauce, Chinese five-spice powder or even louder ingredients. A proper Indian curry calls for beer, but Sichuan and Thai cooking go with Gewurztraminer, while milder Cantonese dishes do not overwhelm Pinot Gris. Some growers, however, such as Andre Ostertag, are now producing an oaky style of Pinot Gris, with which we should stick to more classical French cuisine, as we would with Chardonnay.

* The producers. The top three are Trimbach, a large, established firm with plenty of land of its own, based in Riquewihr; Domaine Weinbach, run by Colette Faller and her daughters, based in Kayserberg; and Domaine Zind-Humbrecht, run by the only French master of wine, Olivier Humbrecht, in Turckheim.

My only reservation about Zind-Humbrecht is that its wines are vinified off-dry, not bone dry. In their youth, especially in a fine vintage (1997, 1996 and 1995 are all fine vintages; so was 1990: the years between merely good to very good), I find them a little sweet, unsuitable for food. (The answer is to keep them 10 years, of course.)

The one- and two-star domaines and negociants include, in alphabetical order: Lucien Albrecht (Orschwihr), Leon Beyer (Eguisheim), Paul Blanck (Kientzheim), Bott Freres (Ribeauville), Bott-Geyl (Beblenheim), Albert Boxler (Niedermorschwihr), Ernest Burn (Gueberschwihr), Joseph Cattin, Theo Cattin (both Voegtlinshoffen), Marcel Deiss (Bergheim), Jean-Pierre Dirler (Guebwiller), Bernard Gaschy (Colmar), Andre et Remy Gresser (Andlau), Hugel (Riquewihr), Josmeyer (Wintzenheim), Andre Kientzler (Ribeauville), Marc Kreydenweiss (Andlau), Kuentz-Bas (Husseren-Les-Cha^teaux), Albert Mann (Wettolsheim), Mittnacht-Klack (Riquewihr), Andre Ostertag (Epfig), Martin Schaetzel (Ammerschwihr), Andre Scherer (Husseren-Les-Cha^teaux), Schlumberger (Guebwiller), Gerard Schueller (Husseren-Les-Cha^teaux), Schoffit (Colmar), Seppi Landmann (Soultzmatt), plus--the best of an excellent clutch of cooperatives--the Cave des Producteurs de Turckheim.

But to get back to my question, why is Alsace wine so underrated? Is it the long green bottle, which makes people think of Germany? Is it American wine drinkers’ craze for oak? Is it the fact that you cannot simply graduate up from inexpensive California blends to an Alsatian Pinot Gris the way you can to a French Cabernet or Chardonnay? Or is it just plain ignorance?

If it is simply the latter, please, I urge you give these wines a try. Trimbach’s are widely available. They range from a simple Pinot Blanc at $9 to Riesling “Cuvee Frederick Emile” and Gewurztraminer “Cuvee des Seigneurs de Reibeaupierre” at $28 to the best Riesling in the world, “Clos Sainte-Hune” at $45. The wines of Zind-Humbrecht and Weinbach are only a little harder to find.

With these three, you won’t go wrong, but all the other houses mentioned can be relied on. Talk to your wine merchant. Buy a bottle to taste. And discover a whole new world of wine.