Müller-Thurgau and riesling in this slightly mysterious blend. Just what is Müller-Thurgau? Here’s Jancis Robson’s description.
And that seems accurate. Complexity isn’t this wine’s strong suit, but it is admirably straightforward, just as Jancis suggests. On the nose I found just-ripe summer fruits, pear, peach and apricot, which followed to the palate. Nice Bartlett pear-skin undertones, and green apple-style acids.
In short, she’s an easy on the interpretation kind of wine, one where we don’t need to go searching for meaning or nuance. Fruit, ferment, fool about with the bland, and force into a bottle. I will remark that other tasters seem to describe her as light-bodied, but that was not my experience; medium at least.
One thought: if you’re not up for the gigantic awesomeness of a Sauternes, or similar, this wine would absolutely do the trick, even as a dessert substitute. It would also work with fresh cut fruit, apples or dried apricots. It’s just an idea.
And another thing. The aromas of this glass are way in advance of its price. As she warms, I note some nice almond undertones, which partly account for the solidity of the structure. That nutty thread continues the idea of tart summer fruits, like a plate of freshly harvested or picked produce.
The key here is a lack of acid, which might be a relative criticism rather than a global slam. A glass like this creates no expectation, so any balanced acid contribution comes as a kind of bonus; a coupon for free sophistication. Zing and fruity together is under-rated.
Sweetness is a mantrap in the world of recommending wine. Problems abound with communication gaps between words and taste. Connecting palate and vocabulary is a tortured link. Here’s a wine that is not really crisp (acidic), neither is it sweet (although it is fruity) and then it’s understatedly interesting with plenty of food matching ideas.