*Disclaimer: I received this wine as part of a sample from Dancing Coyote*
Gewürztraminer. An unyielding name, grizzly sounding, difficult to spell—even for me with 3 years of high school German. But unfortunately, the German didn’t stick—not even the smallest edelweiss seed was planted in my brain. Except for one thing: “nimmst du die antibabypille?” Are you on birth control? A cassette tape my mother bought for supplemental instruction taught me that.
Gewürz n. spice
Traminer n. family of white grape varieties used in wine production. Known for its succulent and spicy attributes.
See, very simple. I knew that, but only after reading an article on the Finger Lakes a few years ago—sadly I was completely ill-equipped to break down the word otherwise. Carey, on the other hand, is my Kermit Lynch pronunciation guide. Perfect French from her high school years. She even worked with me until I could say, ‘La Queue de Merluche’, a parcel of vines that is shaped like a salted cod’s tail, perfectly.
Dancing Coyote Wines sent me this delicious Gewürz as part of a sample a couple months ago. This is the final bottle. I have been spacing them out, waiting for the right occasions, allowing for these wines, which had just been bottled, to settle in and develop a bit.
From my notebook:
The first day of summer is here—a perfect opportunity for cool, thin-bottled wines. Bright and peachy—not offputtingly sweet (a possible worry for some) with a nice chalky, stone minerality to fall back on. Intense platinum/straw colors in the glass, unexpectedly light and crisp appearing. Honey and white flowers (edelweiss?), are gentle on the palate, gentle spice on the nose, and a perfectly refreshing acidity.
Lychee is the go-to word when describing Gewürztraminer, but I have never tasted or smelled Lychee, so I can only speculate. Apparently Lychee looks like a leather strawberry, has a sweet sweet delicate flesh that tastes like a combination of pear and grapes. I will take careful note the next time I come across a Lychee martini.