Double-barrelled names automatically imply importance. Okay, if not importance, then surely history. And if not history, royalty, which some mistakenly think is the same thing.
Compound names were, in times past, reserved for aristocratic family unions. Beneath a certain (well defined) social stratum, women automatically took their husband’s name. When the value of a spousal union spread beyond the immediate couple and their family, everyone profited.
I have no idea about the melding of the Eifel and the Pfeiffer families. The first wedding, the adoption of the name and any romance associated with it is a subject best left to the imagination. When power forges with lust, anything can happen.
In any case, here we have a Spatlese. Riesling. Picked at a pre-determined ripeness, the future sweetness is thusly pre-determined, which is not to discount winemaking skill. Clearly in evidence, this is a glass of exuberance guaranteed to brighten your day.
The nose is not over-the-top, but on the palate the fun begins. All-star ripe (or even over-ripe) fruits give themselves a form with zest and brilliance. Sweet and crisp, bright and juicy, this is a symphony of German summer.
The finish gives us sliced apple acids, peaches and mandarin acids, lingering long enough to tempt us for another sip.