Weiler Weinweg in Flammen

Now to recount a lovely event that took place on 20 July in the vineyards overlooking the German town of Weil am Rhein. Weil is Germany's most southwesterly town, situated adjacent to the Swiss border and the city of Basel. The "Weiler Weinweg" is a 4-km public route through these vineyards, starting just below the village of Ötlingen, taking in the lieux-dits of Ötlinger Sonnhole and Haltinger Stiege, and finishing in Weiler Schlipf which overlooks the old, original neighbourhood of Weil.


The inaugural "Weiler Weinweg in Flammen" took place in 2005, borne of an idea among the local vintners of Weil, Haltingen and Ötlingen. This event featured wine and food stands amid a sequence of logs (see above) that were set on fire along the footpath. This culminated in the "Tulpe" (or Tulip, see photo) at the end of the route. Visitors who stayed long after sunset were treated to a grandstand view of the big firework show in Basel to mark Swiss National Day.

Unfortunately, a long hiatus followed until the local wine-growers next hung out their bunting in 2011. Due to the novelty factor and the beauty of the location, they were overrun by the sheer number of visitors this second time round. Food ran out at all the stands long before sunset.

They tried again this year but with more success. This was thanks in no small measure to some judicious scheduling. As it clashed with a popular local wine fest in Efringen-Kirchen, there were maybe less visitors than there might have been. The decision to bring it forward away from any Swiss festivities was also a good idea in itself, I think.

Anyway, es war wunderschön!

Shelter Winery sparkler

My wife and I recent recently enjoyed this bubbly together one Friday evening on the balcony with a selection of antipasti goodies: green and black olives, tapenade, sun-dried tomatoes and other savoury nibbles.

Shelter Winery, Sparkling brut 2008, Baden, Germany
Yes, this is "Shelter Winery" despite being a German vineyard. Based in Kenzingen in the northern part of the Breisgau district of Baden, the winery owes its name to the air shelters (or bunkers) of the old Canadian NATO airforce base near Lahr. Today, "Black Forest Airport Lahr" operates mainly as a freight airport and occasionally as a destination for privately chartered jets. In 2003, vintners Hans-Bert Espe and Silke Wolf moved their fledging winery into one of the airport's holes in the ground. Although a grass-clad roof, thick concrete walls and a heavy steel door provided a functional home of sorts, Lahr was always going to be a temporary base given that the airport authorities kept forcing Espe and Wolf to move like nomads from one shelter to another. The two winemakers, both of whom studied together at the renowned Geisenheim wine school, consequently built their own tailor-made winery in Kenzingen from where they now access their vineyard land in and around Kenzingen and Malterdingen.

Before establishing Shelter Winery, Espe and Wolf spent some time learning their trade in the Pinot Noir hotbed of Oregon, USA. (Hotbed? Maybe "cool climate" would be more accurate.) I met Herr Espe briefly a couple of years ago at a wine fair in nearby Offenburg, where he came across to me as a studious yet down-to-earth sort of bloke. I was quietly blown away by the small selection of wines I tasted, all of which, I am tempted to suggest, were embued with the same calm, unhurried personality of their maker.

I especially remember the above-mentioned sparkler from that day's tasting in Offenburg. As a Pinot blanc de noir, its fresh strawberry aromas and finely toasted notes also paired excellently with our antipasti spread. Its fine bubbles as well as its mouth-filling creaminess and complexity were top notch. I didn't make any written notes as such, but I would conclude by stating that this bubbly was a veritable treat and, even at 19 euros, a snip compared to other sparklers of similar quality I can think of.

Cricket

Ah, the smack of leather on willow, cucumber sandwiches and cream teas on the boundary, ripples of applause from the members' pavillion, wearing ties in the midday sun... On a glorious summer's day, I doubt there are few things more quintessentially English than the game of cricket. And just as the weather was coming good last week, the Ashes series between England and Australia began.

Cricket was, is and will always be part of the fabric of English life. This is reflected, among other things, by the sport's contribution to the English language through metaphors. You can be stumped, hit for six, or bowled a googly. Alternatively, you can break your duck, get caught out, have a good innings (normally after having passed away), swing both ways, go in to bat (sometimes for the other side), keep your end up, play off the back foot, play off the front foot, or offer a straight or dead bat (especially to awkward, niggling questions from newspaper journalists). Cheating, on the other hand, is just not cricket. Even on a sticky wicket.

Talking of wickets, it would be worth pointing out that a cricket groundsman in Australia is referred to as the "curator". In UK English, the "groundsman" or, occasionally, "groundswoman" is generally the person in charge of maintaining and nurturing the (grass) surface of play in cricket and other sports (except for golf - they're called "greenkeepers"). Unfortunately, Germans now commonly refer to all groundsmen and groundswomen, regardless of sport, as "Greenkeeper" - with a capital "G" and no "s" in the plural, in keeping with German grammar. Personally, I blame Uli Hoeness.

As a romantic, I would like to think that winemaker Roland Pfleger grew up watching cricket in Australia in some sort of parallel universe. Herr Pfleger's top red wines belong to his "Edition Curator" line. Although, in reality, Herr Pfleger probably sees himself more as a curator in the sense of someone who nurtures his vineyards and wines as opposed to ensuring a decent batting track that still offers a chance for the bowling side. (Strictly speaking, the German noun "Pfleger" means "carer", "care worker" or "nurse".)

This, I admit, is a slightly roundabout way of introducing my next wine, which is not one of Herr Pfleger's top wines but worthwhile nonetheless.

Weingut Jakob Pfleger, Herxheimer Kirchenstück Merlot trocken 2010, Pfalz, Germany
Generally ruby in appearance with violety hints. Cool and cherry-like on the nose with leathery notes and a touch of dark chocolate. On the palate, the impression is similar. Coolness of flavour and overall elegance are the main themes. This wine has a lovely silky texture but with adequate acidity to keep the juices flowing.

Priced just below 10 euro, this is a very good effort and - I am sure - a good introduction to the more rarified quality of the Curator range.

Heußler Riesling

The wines of Christian Heußler have long been on my radar. His winery is based in Rhodt unter Rietburg, a village I photographed from the top of the Rietburg chair-lift a few years ago (see opposite). As is very much the case throughout the Pfalz, the soils in and around Rhodt are a veritable patchwork. Apart from limestone, red clay, loam, sand and skeletal sandstone, one of Herr Heußler's plots has granite underfoot.

Weingut Heußler, Riesling Spätlese trocken "Granit" 2010, Pfalz, Germany
According to the back label, the plot in question is to be found in the Rhodter Schlossberg vineyard located directly below Villa Ludwigshöhe, a classical Italianate villa perched at the top of the incline.

These short notes are purely from memory.


Vivid yellow to pale yellow in appearance. This has spice, red fruit (redcurrant, strawberry) and earthy tones on the nose. Translated onto the palate, the impression is of sweet, luscious grapes with some of the aforementioned spice. No sign of any granite. Given the resplendently bright definition of its colour, you would expect this to have more than its still-reasonable 12.5% abv.

This Riesling forfeits a little bit of elegance on account of its shortish finish and slightly rough, rustic mouthfeel. Nevertheless, this latter characteristic that also lends it a certain charm. All in all, still pretty good and a wine I would like to revisit in future.

Mittelhaardt Rieslingschorle

All things considered, the compact yet picturesque garden at Weingut Reichsrat von Buhl counts among the posher places you could think of to drink a nice cold Rieslingschorle on a sunny, warm early afternoon in June, but this is what my wife and I did a couple of years ago. Not all Rieslingsschorles are born equal, as ample experience has told me over the years. The specimen served to us that day from a humble litre bottle at von Buhl definitely counts among the creme de la creme. What I remember was a luscious ripeness that totally confounded me - all the more so given that the vintage was the oft-maligned 2010. It was merely a spritzer, but it was still a reminder for me that the Mittelhaardt really is a blessed area when it comes to Riesling.

The following wine continues in the same vein.

Weingut Heinrich Spindler, Forster Ungeheuer Riesling Kabinett trocken 2011, Pfalz, Germany
On the nose, you could say that the usual citrus comes to the fore. That may be true, yet the notes are of a lively lemony intensity. More lemon cake than lime soda. Over 48 hours, this initial excitement subsides, but the wine continues to shine on the palate. Peaches and over-ripe lemon. This Riesling is moderate in body and alcohol, although I suspect a mere nudge upwards in terms of the ripeness of the grapes would have seen it reach Spätlese trocken levels pretty quickly. In its designated category, this wine is representative of the type of Riesling I would associate with the Mittelhaardt: generous fruit, elegant, revitalising acidity, with some earthy complexity.

Good for a Rieslingschorle, though that would probably be a waste.

Brenneisen bubbly

I would say the following sparkler is pretty hard to procure unless you live down here in and around Basel or in Markgräflerland or order directly from the producer. For just under eight euros (if I recall rightly), it offers very good value.


Weingut Brenneisen, Weissburgunder Sekt Brut 2010, Baden, Germany
Light gold with fairly fine bubbles. Quite a Chardonnay-esque nose with moderately luscious and firm yellow fruit as well as certain yeastiness expressive of the oak casks in which the initially fermented wine matured for nine months prior to another 12 months of bottle fermentation. Ripe acidity. Drier on the palate than the nose would suggest, with some biscuity character.

This was consumed on its own but, if truth be told, is a little too concentrated to be quite right for lone sipping. On the other hand, a whole platter of antipasti goodies would be ideal - preferably alfresco, given the time of year.

Non-native translations, native wine

Back to English now. The last blog post was a departure from the norm that I very much enjoyed but will probably not be making a habit of, given the extra time and effort it entailed. While I do recognise that a good few people write (wine) blogs in languages other than their native tongue and achieve a high degree of linguistic polish in doing so (London and Munich's resident Wine Ramblers, to my knowledge, providing one of the best examples out there), my little incursion into German territory also underscored the golden rule for me as a professional translator of not delivering texts in any other language other than the one I was brought up in. That's English in my case. Expressing this in another way: I would frankly be kidding myself if I thought my recent German-language blog post was of native-speaker quality.

Incidentally, the German Federal Association of Interpreters and Translators (or BDÜ for short) publishes a quarterly periodical for its members in which articles have occasionally been written in English by German native-speaker translators. Although the authors in question undoubtedly have the requisite German academic qualifications to translate into English, their texts can usually still be identified by the trained eye as "non-native". This, I feel, is symptomatic of the practice in German-speaking countries whereby professional translators also regularly translate from their native language, due in my view to a uniquely Germanic obsession with academic qualifications and titles. By this, I mean that once someone has an academic certificate entitling him or her to translate into a foreign language, this is often what counts ahead of all other considerations - such as actual written skills or the wisdom, or otherwise, of translating into a foreign language in the first place.

But I digress.

Today's ever-so-brief notes relate to a wine produced very close to home - barely three miles away as the crow flies, to be precise.

Weingut Röschard, Weiler Schlipf Weissburgunder trocken 2012, Baden, Germany
I admit that it was the winery's revamped bottle labels first and foremost that attracted me to this Pinot Blanc. It's amazing what a bit of marketing can do.

Yellow apple on the nose. Otherwise somewhat reticent over the course of the three evenings I tasted the wine. Again, yellowish apple on the palate. Tasty and light with keen acidity and some minerally personality. I suspect the shy bouquet may open up a little over the course of the next few months or so - it's still early days. Overall, good value for around EUR 6.50 from the supermarket (or EUR 5.80 from the cellar door).