Way Beyond Sweet Concord

As stories go, the Book of Exodus pretty much has everything: a people oppressed by a hard-hearted Pharaoh; an infant hero, found in the bulrushes and raised by the pharaoh’s own daughter, who grows up to say, “Let my people go!”; plagues of locusts and frogs; flaming hail; an epic chase scene with massed chariots and the parting of the Red Sea; and, of course, the Promised Land, flowing with milk and honey.

Somebody should make a movie about it. I’m seeing, let’s see--how about Charlton Heston as Moses? Or would that be a stretch?

The turning point, of course, comes when God instructs his chosen people to mark their houses with a sign to make sure their families are passed over by the divine wrath. Three thousand years later, Passover and the other events of the Exodus are commemorated in the Seder, an annual family gathering that incorporates ritual, symbolism and good food.

Over the years I’ve been honored by invitations to several Seder dinners. Each was unique, reflecting the family’s personalities and traditions. But they all had one thing in common, beyond the elements of the Seder itself: The wine wasn’t up to the food.

That was no fault of the hosts, knowledgeable wine lovers all. The problem was that the narrow selection of kosher wines on the market forced them to compromise quality. Most available kosher wine was so grapey-sweet the first sip would prompt the thought, “Where’s the peanut butter?” The usual grape was Concord, and the label might as well have said Welch’s.

That’s no longer a problem, mainly because of the efforts of one company. The last few years have seen a new wave of kosher wines that are made with mainstream grapes by classical methods.

In fact, these are really premium varietal wines that have the added virtue of being kosher; in most cases the only tip-off on the label is a discreet Hebrew symbol or line of script (the supervising rabbi’s signature), easily seen by someone who’s looking for it but not presented as the main selling point.

There are Chardonnays, Merlots and Cabernets from France, Israel, California, Chile and Australia. There are Pinot Grigio, Moscato and Barbera from Italy; Shiraz from Australia; and wines from Bordeaux, the Rhone and Minervois. There’s even a kosher Champagne, made by Laurent Perrier.

And almost all of them are produced and/or imported by Brooklyn-based Royal Wine Corp. Royal’s president, Nathan Herzog, represents the eighth generation of a winemaking family from eastern Europe that once supplied wine to a number of royal courts but lost everything during World War II.

“My grandfather, Eugene Herzog, came to this country in July 1948,” Herzog said. “He was penniless, with six children. But he was a very determined winemaker.”

Joining Royal as a winemaker, truck driver and partner, Eugene Herzog “learned the language, learned the business and in the late ‘50s bought out the other partners and built and built and built. And after all these years we’re the No. 1 kosher wine company in America.”

A wine is kosher (proper according to Jewish dietary ordinance) when it has been handled only by observant Jews throughout the winemaking process, in rabbi-certified kosher facilities using kosher equipment and other products (such as yeast).

Nathan and his brother, David, began importing premium-quality kosher wines in the 1970s. Until the mid-’90s, 80% of their sales were tied to Passover, but now, says Herzog, sales are steady year-round. Royal offers nearly 50 kosher wines. It’s an impressive portfolio of dry table wines that just happen to be kosher.

The company’s 150,000-case California winery produces the Baron Herzog line (named for the family’s original winemaker, Philip Herzog, who was made a baron by Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria-Hungary).

In tasting through the Baron Herzog wines recently, I found most of them quite appealing and several outstanding. I couldn’t quite see the point of the rather sticky White Zinfandel, but the crisp ’98 Chenin Blanc, from the sandy soils around the Sacramento Delta town of Clarksburg (California’s best Chenin Blanc area), is delightful.

The ’97 Old Vines Zinfandel (from Lodi) is perhaps what the old-style kosher wines are trying to be--a rich mouthful of ripe grapey flavors, but dry and with firm acidity, structure and food-friendly texture.

The sumptuous, oak-inflected Special Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon (from the Warnecke Vineyard in Sonoma County’s Chalk Hill American Viticultural Area) is the ideal wine for the Seder’s four ceremonial glasses marking the Israelites’ freedom, deliverance, redemption and release.

In other countries, the company custom-crushes wines in established wineries, using its own cellar crews of Sabbath-observant Jews under rabbinical supervision.

“We have six to eight rabbis on hand around the world during harvest,” said Herzog, “and a seasonal staff of 50 or 60 Jewish cellar workers that we send to the wineries. It’s not easy to find them all. I need 15 just in Bordeaux, and 10 in the Loire.”

Teal Lake Chardonnay and Shiraz, for example, are made at Normans Winery in South Australia. Wines under the Alfasi label (the bright, fruity Alfasi Merlot ’97 is a real crowd-pleasing Seder choice) are made at Carta Vieja Winery in Chile’s Maule Valley.

The Gamla and Yarden brands come from the Golan Heights Winery in Galilee. The ’97 Gamla Cabernet Sauvignon is a supple beauty, its well-defined flavors nicely seasoned, but not overwhelmed, by French oak.

There is a line of French regional wines including Vouvray, Muscadet and Minervois (the rich, savory ’96 Cha^teau la Reze). The company also distributes kosher wines from Cha^teau Yon-Figeac (Saint-Emilion), Cha^teau Giscours (Margaux) and several other Bordeaux houses.

If your Seder includes a roasted shoulder of lamb, the ’95 Yon-Figeac would be ideal. Primarily Merlot, with a soupcon of Cabernet Franc for laser-etched brightness and structure, it has just the plump texture and high-toned herbaceousness to complement lamb (and it wouldn’t be bad with a simple roast chicken either).

This wine is so good, you’ll be proud to pour a glass for the prophet Elijah.

Smith is writer-at-large for Wine & Spirits Magazine.