We are nearing the end of the growing season of one of my favorite vegetables: white asparagus. I grew up in a town that has in recent years styled itself as Belgium’s hub, and rightly so. Kinrooi is one of the biggest producer of white asparagus, and unlike the big, fat stems that are more about volume, here they are properly treated as a foodie’s treasure. Even though I have lived in Brussels for the past couple of years, I would never dream of buying my asparagus anywhere else, and it is always a great way to welcome Spring. What better way to now end the season than with two Belgian classics?
Winewise, the literature is not a fan. Too herbaceous is an often-heard argument, but more importantly is the impact that it has on your palate, as the asparagusic acid it contains can make a wine taste lean and metallic. Overly fruity wines or sweet wines are therefore considered a no-go, but there are of course loads of wines that do prove to be up to the challenge. My go-to country would be Germany, where asparagus is also a true classic on the menu, but today we broaden our horizons.
Let’s start with a dish that my mom used to make to inaugurate the new season: asparagus à la flamande. Deceptively simple but simply delicious with only a couple of extra ingredients: parsley, eggs, a bit of nutmeg and high-quality butter. How did the following wines fare?
First up, the German selection may be familiar with those who have been following my writing since the beginning: Am Stein’s Innere Leiste Silvaner 2012. It just goes to show that I don’t just write about the wines I like, I actually tuck them away in my cellar as well! Silvaner seems to be a good match with asparagus as it also has an herby, spicier side. It is more pungent on the nose than I remember, but on the palate, it has a nice, mineral intensity to it. It has clearly benefited from a bit of bottle time, and I think that it can still develop wonderfully for the next couple of years. The combination shines in its completeness; preserving an herbaceous balance against the parsley and asparagus, yet retaining a sense of gras to match the butter. A great wine in its own right, lifted to a higher level when paired with the right dish.
Staying within the minerality theme, a South African chenin blanc: Mullineux’s Kloof Street chenin blanc 2015. I had not tasted the bottle before and bought it solely based on the producer’s reputation. It comes across a bit austere with a flinty, reduced nose on the first day. There is a bit more fruit afterwards but overall it is rather muted. Soft on the palate, and nothing that really stands out. Unfortunately, it did not stand a chance against the eggs and butter; the slight astringency that was already present as an afterthought was suddenly much more noticeable, so let’s just chalk it up as a learning experience!
Finally, the most surprising match: Giovanni Almondo’s Roero Arneis ‘Bricco delle Ciliegi’ 2013. The bottle was chosen completely at random from the cellar, as I remember it being quite tight and mineral in flavor, so I was hoping it would work. It wasn’t until basically just now that I found out that the terroir of Roero is also ideally suited for asparagus! Perhaps the most subtle wine when it comes to the aroma, but very nice. Mostly on spring flowers, a bit leafy and a freshness that also dominates the palate. The tightness is still there, but there is a lovely tension that actually goes really well with the dish, a great discovery.
While asparagus a la flamande is in essence an easy dish that can uplift an average weekday, the next meal is something that requires a bit more work: Slip soles with fresh North Sea shrimps and asparagus with a white beer mousseline sauce. Granted, shrimps are hideously expensive these days, but combined with a couple of perfect slip soles as well as a velvety mousseline, they are just irresistible. It is a richer dish, so we would need a wine that can handle a bit of pressure.
I looked for something that could match the mousseline first, so something with a bit of structure, perhaps a hint of butter, yet something mineral as well, as the delicate flavours of the shrimps could easily be overwhelmed otherwise. Finally, there are the asparagus, which would only pick a fight if a wine had the audacity to show fruit. So round yet minerality and a more muted yet intense character led me to the Jura, to what it perhaps my best Chardonnay discovery of the year: Domaine Pignier’s A La Percenette 2014.
I haphazardly discovered this estate when I was served a deceptively basic Cremant de Jura in a restaurant a couple of years ago. I was stunned by what I found in my glass, a wine with a complexity that surpasses like half the offer of Champagne at this price point. I jotted down the estate’s name, but of course I lost the note and forgot about it. When I encountered the winemaker at la Renaissance two years ago, I had the opportunity to taste a couple of other wines, which were so convincing that I bought a selection of their wines to taste at home.
Pignier is one of the oldest estates in the Jura, with the seventh generation currently at the helm. The wines are the epitome of slowness; taking the time to allow the wines to find their own natural balance, giving them the opportunity to literally prepare for the ages, as the estate confidently states that their wines can easily go for 10 to 20 years. A la Percenette is a wine of crystalline precision; not something that you notice at first but that sneaks up to you and captivates your attention. It is a lively, yet calm wine, with a depth that goes fantastic with the mousseline sauce, and a freshness that really complements the herbiness of the asparagus and the salinity of the shrimp. A match made in heaven.
Take the first wine, Willi Schaefer’s Graacher Domprobst Spätlese 1999. In no way does this come across as sweet. 8% in alcohol would make you guess at the presence of residual sugar, so this discordance was surprising. One of the only two wines in the selection that started off with petrol on the nose. Flinty, smoky aromas, even a bit herby (currant leafs) with the only hint of sugar really being present in the structure, perfectly blended in with an almost racy, lime-like acidity jittering across the wine. Energetic, savoury and full of life, in my opinion a joy to pair up with food, really versatile in its complexity.
Both wines hail from 1999, and show remarkable differences in style. The aromas found in Saarburger Raush 1999 are fresh and astonishingly youthful. Creamy, almost voluptuous in the mouth, honeyed lemon and a dash of minerality that seems almost endless in the finish. Piesporten Goldtröpfchen 1999 on the other hand is much riper on the nose, yellow fruit, passion fruit, containing much more overtly present aromatic sweetness which disappears on the palate. Luscious but with a clear choice to define the wine by its freshness, really coming together in the end.
As I expected, the Nahe delivers with Dr. Crusius’ Schlossbockelheim Felsenberg 1995 (
Tim Fröhlich is one of those rare winemakers who hit the ground running in such a way that they cannot avoid changing the German wine scene. He is the pretender to the Nahe throne alternately occupied by Dönnhoff and Emrich-Schönleber, and while his style can be divisive, he is unanimously respected. He is a major proponent of spontaneous fermentation (the use of wild instead of cultured yeasts) and late harvesting, often taking risks that other winemakers would shun, but somehow pulling it off. Felseneck Spätlese 2013 shows an almost unattainable elegance, with mere hints of aromas at first. Herbal notes, white Japanese peaches, lemon zest and even a bit of honey. Surprisingly little sweetness on the tongue given the 80g/l of residual sugar, but a mouthwatering, almost saline acidity. This oozes class but comes across quite tight, definitely not ready to show what it is capable of. To tuck away for 15 to 20 years!
Many consider the Mosel to be the benchmark for German sweet. Oddly enough, it’s not the sweetness but the acidity that makes these wines unique. Sweetness and residual sugar levels can be controlled up to a certain point. Acidity and the structure it brings to a wine, are inherently linked to the grape variety, soil and climate. The Mosel is one of the coldest regions in Germany, home to the steepest slopes of slate that are a match made in heaven with Riesling. The Trittenheimer Apotheke 2011 Spätlese from Eva Clüsserath fell a bit short in our tasting but changed into a completely different wine on the second day. Pure, flinty minerality on the nose, clear signs of spontaneous fermentation. Acidity-driven on the palate with ripe apples, zestiness and just a touch of sweetness. Still young but already extremely enjoyable, it is a righteous display of the ethereal lightness that you can only achieve in the Mosel.
We are staying in the region, but now we move one of the Mosel’s tributaries, the Ruwer. The first village you encounter when following the river upstream is Eitelsbach, home to Karthäuserhof. The estate’s peculiarity is that all their wines are sourced from only one vineyard, the Karthäuserhofberg, which is fully owned by Karthäuserhof, making it one of the largest ’monopole’ vineyards in Germany. The Riesling Auslese 2010 has 8.5% alcohol, slightly higher than Schafer-Frohlich’s Spätlese at 7.5% which actually results in a lower level of residual sugar at 70g/l despite the fact that the wine has a different Prädikat. Surprisingly, it comes across a lot sweeter, owning up to its classification with apricots, pineapples and almost exotic fruit scents. It is quite heady, a hint of smokiness that is nowhere to be found on the palate. It comes across very clean but the acidity is markedly lower than expected. This is one for cellaring in the hopes that it will lose the overt sweet tones, or one to combine now with a spicy Indian curry.
Thanks to the Belgian importer, I had the opportunity to taste Am Stein’s Stettener Stein Eiswein 2012. People who have been following this blog from the beginning will be 
Over time these classification terms have become associated with sweet wines, but it is important to keep in mind that °Oeschle conveys info on the sugars present in the grape, not in the wine! With grapes that fall into Kabinett, Spätlese or in less frequent cases Auslese, a winemaker can simply decide to let the alcoholic fermentation run its course, ending up with 12 to 13% of alcohol. For instance, the VDP Pyramid (
Starting from Auslese though, you will rarely encounter completely dry wines. Auslese grape picking commences in a stage of overripeness, comparable to the ‘vendange tardive’ as we know it in the Alsace. Beerenauslese goes even further, and whereas signs of noble rot can already be present in Auslese grapes, here we are already more on the level of ‘Sélection de Grains Nobles’ in the Alsace. Another apt comparison would be Coteaux de Layon versus Chaume and Quarts de Chaume in the Loire region where concentration and residual sugar potential are also considered as determinants of quality.
Finally we get to Eiswein, a sweet wine that can really only be made in cold climates as you need frozen grapes. When temperatures hit -8°C, the water in the grape bunch will freeze, concentrating other components such as sugar and acids. Pressing must occur when the grapes are still frozen, so harvest is in general an all-nighter, resulting in a very pure, intensely sweet wine. The concentration of acids will preserve balance though and when done right, the wine can be extraordinary. °Oechsle would be in the same category as beerenauslese, but the key difference is that the best ice wines contain not a single trace of botrytis.
As clarified a couple of weeks ago when talking about 
So, summer is over in and it is the perfect time to place the spotlight on wines more in tune with the weather. Autumn calls for two of my favourite varieties, Gamay and Pinot Noir. Gamay for its honest, joyful fruitiness that serves as a reminder of the sunny days we enjoyed up until recently and pinot noir, because it can be so perfectly in sync with the rhythm of nature slowing down, transitioning from lively, exuberant flavours to earthy and more delicate impressions. 
I have talked about Riesling wines from the Pfalz before, mainly in the context of the 
You cannot get a full picture of German Riesling without talking about the country’s tradition in sweet wines. At one point in time they ranked amongst the most expensive wines in the world, even beating a couple of Médoc First Growths. Unfortunately, they took a turn for the worse in the eighties. ‘liebfraumilch’ is largely to blame for the image of sweet German wines that still persists in many parts of the world. 
Rheinhessen is the most important wineproducing region in Germany. There are two ready explanations for this success. First, it is home to several important varietal crossings, including Muller-Thurgau, Dornfelder and Scheurebe (which actually originated here), so there are a lot of different wine styles on offer.
Back to Germany this week with the very region that started 
For many people Burgundy is still the place to be for pinot noir. Some of the supposedly greatest wines in the world, think Romanée-Conti or Laurent Ponsot, are produced in the region, which unfortunately leads to scarcity and increased overall price levels. Therefore, I would like to turn today’s spotlight on pinot noir in other parts of the world. 
