Thursday, August 15, 2013

back to what's so comforting

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1992 Max Ferd. Richter Riesling Spätlese | QmP Mülheimer Sonnenlay | Mosel-Saar-Ruwer

We all have our own personal barometer of what style is, what comfort is, what taste is ... and anything not adhering to those personal standards is too often dismissed as wrong/bad/ugly/stupid/tacky. We all want to think of ourselves as having good taste - we all think of ourselves as having it. But that's altogether a far too one-dimensional view of things. Too many people are too quick to judge and it's becoming tiring to hear it, it really is. Why can't we all just be different, and be celebrated for liking different things? You should never have to defend your taste in things, in preferring certain things ... your preferences are simply what they are. It's easy to judge; it's far harder to accept things that are different.

I love Mosel riesling. I've loved it the first time I had a sip. There's an absolute honesty to these wines. And truth be told, I find I get along best with people who also appreciate them. You can always tell, when you serve Mosel to someone for the first time - there are those who are open to trying something new, and others who scrunch their faces at 'oh, it's a sweet wine'. Because after all, how can you be serious about wine if it's not a dry red wine?! Oops. Guess we can't be friends.

This, the Max Ferd. Richter, my last bottle from a bunch I bought way, way back. The Germans sulfur the hell out of their wines, making them relatively immortal. Quite a bit of bottle variation, but this one was fabulous. Open and expressive, with floral aromas, honey, and green apple. That signature minerality underlying everything, whiff of petrol as well. At full maturity. Good sweetness on the palate, with a lingering, spicy extract, great acidity and length. A delicious wine that is drinking beautifully.

I love these wines because they're delicious and all, but also because they're so comforting. There's no need to explain why I like sweet wines, why the Mosel speaks to me the way it does. I have zero affiliation with Germany or any Germans, but how come these wines taste of home? 

Spent the day downtown today. Toronto is home and I love living here, but goddamn, this city is boring. Nothing to do. So grabbed a peameal bacon sandwich at St. Lawrence Market, picked up some vegetables and steak to bring home, and called it a day. Champagne, Barolo, and Carema tonight, the last few bottles in the cellar. 

DF

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