Wine

By Leigh Pomeroy

A visit to a winery in Alsace

"There is no wine that you do not like. Only a wine that you do not understand." — Albert Seltz, winemaker, Alsace, France

This summer, my sons and I took a trip on the Rhine River via Viking River Cruises that included a visit to a winery in Alsace.

Domaine Seltz, like most wineries in Alsace and Burgundy, is just a small operation, almost indistinguishable from the residences, all packed close to each other, in the tiny village of Mittelbergheim. These are true medieval towns, constructed mostly of stone and often for defense. It seemed like there was at least one winery per block, all identified by stone or wood signs on the walls.

The front gate to the winery was open, revealing a small courtyard inside, grape crushing and pressing equipment and a cat lying on the cobblestones.

Our guide and owner of the winery, Albert Seltz, greeted us in rapid-fire, nearly unaccented English, “The cat’s name is Cat, and I had too much to drink last night.”

After a brief introduction to his winery and the winemaking process, he took us down a narrow flight of stairs to the cellar. Inside the first room were maybe 18 barrels and about half that number of large oval casks. Albert announced that he used the barrels only sparingly on a few wines — I would guess his Pinot Noirs — and that the casks were empty. In generations past they were used to age wine, but today he uses only stainless steel and glass-lined concrete tanks to create wines that are much fresher and long-lived.

He next took us into a second room that was filled with unlabeled bottles in bins and racks. I asked, “When do you label these?”

He answered, “When you’re ready to buy them.”

We then went to another room where in one alcove were six life-sized carved wood reproductions of ancient Chinese warriors. “I got a good deal on them,” he said. Other oddities in the cellar included 4-inchhigh Star Wars figures on shelves or bins lining the walls — Luke, Leia, Han, Darth Vader, etc.

Then we entered a large tasting room with several rows of heavy wooden tables that could have easily accommodated twice our group of three dozen. There was a single glass in front of each of us, and as Albert spoke, he began pouring.

His emphasis, he said, was the vineyard. That’s where the quality and essence of the wine are made. It’s in the terroir — the interplay of soil, climate, geomorphology and organisms in the soil and air — but mostly the soil itself.

He explained that his farming practices, as well as those in much of Alsace, are moving away from artificial pesticides and nutrients toward a more organic way of farming, like those employed in the old days. Today, thanks to research, winegrowers know more about what the vines need, so they understand the natural processes that help the vines yield the best fruit — a blend of tradition and science.

We tasted four dry whites. The first was a Pinot Auxerrois, a rare grape that is grown primarily in Alsace, and a cousin of Chardonnay, that had a nice creamy feel.

Next, Albert poured a 2011 Riesling from the Rebbuehl Vineyard. Usually dry Rieslings, at least those made in the U.S. and in other warmer climates, lose their freshness after a few years, but this wine was lively and youthful, and had many years left to offer.

The third was a 2015 Riesling, this one from the Grand Gru Zotzenberg Vineyard, which lies just uphill from the village. The differences between the two dry Rieslings were subtle, though Albert explained the variation in the soil between the two, one granitic and the other clay-limestone.

The final sample was another Grand Gru Zotzenberg wine, this one a 2015 Gewurztraminer. Dramatically different from the first three wines, it showed the classic grapefruit and ginger spice of the grape with elements of rose petals in the finish.

Finally, Albert took us into the salesroom, also in the huge cellar, which must have filled the entire length and breadth beneath his property. There we could buy wines going back to the 1998 vintage, including not only those we tasted, but Pinot Noir, Pinot Blanc, Sylvaner and Pinot Gris.

I wanted to take home one of each, especially the older wines to see how they had progressed. But alas, flying restrictions allowed us just two bottles per person.

I would buy Albert’s wines here in the U.S., but they’re hard to find, as Albert’s distributor went bankrupt owing him lots of money.

Truth be told, Alsatian wines are hard to find anywhere in the U.S. unless you’re in a major market. Nevertheless, it’s worth looking for them in quality wine shops wherever you might be.