Franken Casks the First Stone

Silvaner aged in shell limestone casks: quintessential expression of terroir, steinwein 2.0, or a flight of foolishness?
Silvaner aged in shell limestone casks: quintessential expression of terroir, steinwein 2.0, or a flight of foolishness?
Matthias Neske has done a lot of things. He has worked for the government, in research, in tourism, has done UN projects in Asia, holds a PhD in Geography - and then there's wine.
Now he works full time as a freelancer in the wine business. He has been publishing on his blog Chez Matze for over ten years. He is also co-author of the Falstaff Wine Guide Germany, and writes for retailers and growers. Matthias is passionate about individuality, nature, diversity and dry humor.
The one piece of German wine law I thought I fully understood was the Prädikat system. First, I memorized the Prädikat levels. Later, I memorized the minimum must weights. I pushed aside my frustration that the sweetness of a wine did not correspond with Prädikat level — accepting that residual sugar wasn’t part of the system. Before visiting Germany, I never expected that the lack of consistency in sweetness for Prädikat wines would be an ongoing point of tension in the very country that came up with the system. Or, that by prioritizing origin over Oechsle degrees, Germany’s renowned wine organization Verband Deutscher Prädikatsweingüter (VDP) would in essence dismiss the…...
Northern Germany's answer to lobster, and a true hybrid Riesling surprise.
By Rudolf Trossen The sun recedes, the summer wanes,the ripe grapes long since gifted.A chill arrives under the guise of evening wind,Long shadows stretch heavy like leadacross golden vineyards’ last light. Alone on the slope,I watch in silence. But in old caskschurns young wine,roaring with the summer’s solar might,lust and longing into the night,cheering, laughing, singing bright. I bow beforethe deity’s vigor. November 1994 From the collection Was die Reben Sagen Translated September 2021...
It was the first hour of my first shift, and of course, it was a “Manhattan Cocktail.” I pictured the flashcards heavy in my pocket from the cram-session the night before: Rye whisky, sweet Vermouth, and bitters. Don’t forget the cherry. To that point, I had known Vermouth as little more than a grandmother’s drink, the bottle dying a slow oxidative death in wood-paneled curios around the world. So after making the guest’s request, and in the name of job experience, I downed the remaining jigger of inexperienced overpour. Later, I would comment to the bar manager that it tasted a…...
Champagne roots and Riesling blood: an interview with Pfalz's newest sektgut Christmann & Kauffmann.
The year is 1806. The date June 17th. Privy Councilor Goethe sits in Frankfurt — high and dry. He reaches for his quill and writes a letter to a friend: “Send me some Würzburger wine, for no other wine satisfies, and I am morose without my accustomed favorite drink.” While the line may not be poetic, the composition Johann Wolfgang von Goethe thirsted for is. The wine in question was, quite possibly, “Frentsch” (local dialect for Altfränkischer Satz or Old Franconian Mixed Set): a field blend of some 20 grape varieties, all planted, harvested, and fermented together. What once gave growers a bit of…...
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