Gewürztraminer

I’ve got a business idea for you.

Make a shower gel that smells like Gewürztraminer.

It would sell like hot cakes.

Everyone would walk around smelling like roses, sweet spice and fragrant tropical fruits.

Better yet, you could have product extensions. Once you’d gone platinum with the first line you could add a VT, a Vendange Tardive, that ratcheted up the honey notes.

Guaranteed, the pinnacle in the range would be a SGN that would sell for triple the price. As the sweetest and most complex, it would be a rare shower gel, only produced in the finest vintages. The Kardashians would be all over it.

Odds are your shower gel would sell better than the wine. For alas my beloved Gewürztraminer, a truly noble variety, has fallen out of favour with consumers.

I witnessed this first-hand at a dinner just the other day.

What does it taste like

I ordered a bottle of Gewürztraminer from Alsace, a Grand Cru no less. I thought my friend would appreciate it.

“I don’t know anything about wine. I only drink Prosecco – probably half the entire production”, she said.

Fair enough. I can’t expect everyone to share my passion.

Unable to control myself, I launched into an explanation of the Grand Cru. It was from one of the great producers, Domaine Zind-Humbrecht. Olivier Humbrecht, Master of Wine, is a large man, making even larger wines.

It comes from northeast France, along the border with Germany. Alsace makes incredible Gewürztraminer, unsurpassed by any other region. It’s often full bodied, intensely aromatic – so you can smell it across the room – and has aromas and flavors of roses and tropical fruits. People say they often get lychee. The wines are often slightly off-dry, but can also be lusciously sweet in botrytis-affected styles like Sélection de Grains Nobles. Gewürztraminer is one of my favorites.

“Ger-what?,” said said.

And therein lies one of the key issues. The name of the grape is such a mouthful that most struggle to pronounce it.

“Well, you can say it Ger-wurz-tra-ME-ner, or, Ger-wurz-tra-min- er, or… some people just call it a Gewürz.”

Blank stare.

Mentioning there was an umlaut on the ü was not worth the risk.

I refrained from going on further. I wanted to say it’s a grape with heavy pigmentation, veering towards deep yellow or golden hues even in its youth, usually with high viscosity. Or that it’s marked by powerful, broad, and heady aromatics and an absence of oak. The wines have a characteristic oily texture with soft, low acidity. Yet surprisingly they’re still capable of ageing for decades. As Olivier once explained standing in his cellar, the whole theory that a wine needs high acidity to age is absolute codswallop.

Where does it come from

I have had a beautiful Gewürz from Germany, and from northern Italy. The Okanagan, as well. There must have been others, but I’m straining.

But there have been stacks upon stacks of them from Alsace. Heavenly. Off the charts.

Back in 2005, at our wine schools, I remember pouring them and watching people swoon and melt. Everybody loved the wines. They just can’t pronounce the varietal and so never order it. Wine stores and restaurants barely stock it as a result.

It turns into a race to the bottom on pricing. In fact, it’s one of the best white wine deals out there. I’m thinking $20-$40 for a good one. Around $60-$90 will get you the Petrus equivalent in Gewürz.

You want to target the Grands Crus, the top vineyards. You’ll see this prominently marked on the label. It means it comes from a village that is designated Grand Cru.

It’s a bit of a controversial thing in Alsace because they give the Grands Cru designation to every vineyard in the whole village. And much like a town itself, there are good parts of town and, well, not so good.

The way to ensure you buy a good Grand Cru is to match this designation to a great producer. There are dozens, which can make it daunting. But I’ll simplify it for you.

Trimbach, Weinbach, Gustav Lorenz, Hugel, and Zind Humbrecht. I will throw in the Cave Coop of Pfaffenheim, because they really do make amazing wines. It’s a short list, and there are others, but you shouldn’t need to venture far beyond these greats.

Alsace itself is magical. It has a heavy German influence, with its own dialect. What’s most striking is the little houses that are painted bright colors, with wooden beams and low ceilings. They must have been built when people were no more than five feet tall. It’s warm and dry, protected by the Voges mountains, and every village seems to be laden with gorgeous flowers making it one of the prettiest wine regions in France.

What to pair with it

A tarte flambée. It’s a specialty of the Alsace region, and they’re so good. Basically, it’s their idea of a pizza.

It’s made on a piece of thin, rolled-out bread dough. It only has three other main ingredients: cheese, onion, and bacon.

What you do is walk into one of these tiny Hansel and Gretel style restaurants. A local place in a little village. You’ll likely be the only tourist. You’ll be viewed with something between suspicion and curiosity.

The server comes over. The whole restaurant goes silent. You order a tarte flambée and a bottle of Gewürz. And suddenly when you look around the room everyone gently smiles and nods with approval. You’ve been accepted.