A friend just had her wedding at Glen Foerd Mansion on the Delaware River in Philadelphia, and I spent the afternoon there. This giant house is tucked in the back of a tiny neighborhood that practically goes unnoticed. It's just a short distance from Highway 95, though you'd never imagine any urban sprawl could lurk near this hamlet. 

This is the view of the Delaware River from the back porch. 

The mansion was built by Charles Macalester circa 1850. In 1893, Robert and Caroline Foerderer bought the mansion and had it renovated. It remained in the family until 1988, and is now run by the Glen Foerd Conservation Corporation and the Fairmount Park Commission.  

How Robert & Caroline Foerderer came to own this mansion is a true love story. When they were teenagers they canoed down the Delaware River. They saw a dog on the bank (the very bank that you see in this photo) and pulled up the canoe to investigate. Once they climbed up the bank, the mansion rose before them, and Robert promised Caroline that one day it would be theirs. He started a company, got rich, and sure enough, he bought that mansion for Caroline in 1893! 

Scroll down to see some of the incredible finds in the house; including a bottle of riesling from the 1800s... 

 


The wrap-around porch is supported by columns. 

This is a shot of the back porch (and husband). Today the mansion is owned by a foundation, but the previous owner collected most of the plants from around the world. 

A magnificent staircase occupies the center of the house. 

Glass and iron ceilings function as natural skylights. 

An organ sits at the top of the staircase-- the pipes line the walls of the adjacent room. 

And a whole room is devoted to this grand piano. 

A collection of old decanters catch the sun. 

I found this cute little Cupid in a room dedicated to sculptures and artwork. 

Urns, figurines, paintings by famous artists, hand-carved chairs.... 

And this....  on display outside of the men's room, of all places. 

I'm pretty sure that this is from the Rheinhessen (though the wine company was based in the Nahe): 

1893 Niersteiner Oelberg
Riesling Auslese
Anheuser & Fehrs Creuznach
*bolded letters are obvious letters from the label, unbolded letters I've filled in based on educated guessing. If anyone has a better guess, please leave it in the comments section! 

There isn't much information out there about this wine, but I did find this pamphlet from 1904. The pamphlet is from a "German Wine & Food Exhibition" in St. Louis. Scroll down to page 135 to see the lists of wine. The first wine producer listed is Anheuser & Fehrs Creuznach. The pamphlet reads: 

Anheuser & Fehrs, Creuznach (Nahe). Established 1869, Rhine-, Nahe-, Palatinate-, Moselle- and Saar-Wines in bottles and casks. Exportation to all parts of the world. Proprietors of large and valuable vineyards. Owners of the registered brand: „Creuz- nacher Steinberg Riesling, own growth". Highest awards at all expositions: Coblenz 1879, Crefeld 1880, Creuznach 1881, Wetzlar 1882, Wesel 1885, London (German Exhibition) 1891, Chicago (World's Exhibition) 1893, Paris (World's Exhibition) 1900. Sole Agency for the United States: New-York & Kentucky Co., 232, Fifth Avenue, New-York.

Anheuser & Fehrs Creuznach appears to have been a very large company with vineyards in several wine regions. 

The pamphlet mentions that Anheuser & Fehrs Creuznach won "highest awards" in 1893 at the World's Exhibition in Chicago, and won more awards in 1900 at the World's Exhibition in Paris. Perhaps the owners of the Glen Foerd Mansion came into contact with these wines at one of those Exhibitions and brought this bottle back to Philadelphia. 

I only recognized a few of the other producers represented in the 1904 pamphlet, including Egon Muller (pg 151) and Vanvolxem (pg 158- though not sure if this is the same Van Volxem of today). I also noticed some riesling listed from Eitelsbacher Karthauserhofberg (pg 153). On page 154 there is an interesting reference to Roederer, which lists them as "original growths of Champagne and Lorraine." 

Why would Robert and Caroline Foerderer have been interested in drinking this bottle of German riesling? And, as they didn't save other empty bottles, why was this one so special to have been on display in their home? 

I can take a guess: In 1893, Robert fulfilled his promise to Caroline and bought her the mansion they had canoed past as teenagers. I'm guessing that on a special anniversary (maybe at the renovation groundbreaking? maybe on a wedding anniversary?) they drank this 1893 riesling to celebrate the year their childhood dream came true. 

Bibliography
Anonymous Pamphlet. (1904) German Food and Wine Exhibition - St. Louis 1904. 

Pfeffingen (Pfalz, Germany)

Pfeffingen is one of the great wineries in the Pfalz. The family has been making wine in this region for over 250 years, and production is currently overseen by Doris and Jan Eymael (mother and son). Jan's grandparents, Karl and Helene Fuhrmann, took over the Pfeffingen estate in 1952. Karl raised the reputation of the winery to be one of the finest in the region, he did great work with Scheurebe, he found ancient Roman artifacts on the property which helped create public interest in the region's history, and he helped to see the winery through the rough Flurbereinigung period (discussed in greater detail below). 

<-- The family Coat of Arms has a unicorn ("Einhorn") perched on top, and this is the inspiration for their current label. 

Flurbereiningung
The Flurbereiningung is perhaps the single most important event of the last century that has shaped German winemaking and guided the Pfeffingen estate to where it is today. The Flurbereiningung was a reaction to the trickle-down effects of what the wine business refers to as the "Napoleonic Laws." Napoleon put a new system into play that ensured by law that property would be split up equally between male children; this was a departure from the previous status quo in which entire property was handed down to the eldest son. The premise of the law is very democratic, yet after several generations of exponential population growth, all of the properties had been split, split again, and split again until individuals owned a few vines here and a few vines there. These laws also affected other wine regions including Burgundy; and the current fractalized ownership of vineyards can be quite problematic there. To combat this frustrating issue, Germany decided to organize a massive land-redistribution called the Flurbereiningung. Essentially, all the vineyard land went into one big pot, and the property ownership was redistributed in larger, more easily workable parcels. 

This was a time of great change. Many owners wanted their new, larger vineyards to be more cohesive, so lots of wineries chose to uproot and replant vines with a fresh start. If they were thinking about working with different varieties, this was the time to replant. The government also took this opportunity to make some much needed improvements to the roads around the vineyards, to vineyard infrastructure, and to agricultural mapping in general. They built bird refugee areas to increase biodiversity. Jan also notes that "In the long run this was better, but it was a difficult transition. We had water problems that were fixed-- we dug ditches so that water flows around the vineyards, not through them," like the one pictured below:  

The Flurbereiningung had been an idea since the early 1900s. Legislature passed going into the 1950s, and the restructuring took place from the 1950s through the 1970s. This long-term scope gave vintners plenty of time to work out the terms of land redistribution, plan any replantings, and plan the changes in phases that would be financially viable for them. For Pfeffingen, most of their changes and replantings occurred in the 1980s. 

The Flurbereiningung was expensive, and many wineries took a hit during this time period. To put this in perspective, it can cost about €30,000 to replant 1 hectare. At Pfeffingen, they replanted 10 hectares within a 2 year period of time. Many carefully planned the replanting of their now-cohesive vineyards in stages so that they could have workable fruit each year, but despite staggered replanting most wineries had to deal with extremely young vines for almost a decade, and lowered their output. Quality took a hit as the new plantings grew to maturity. Three decades later, the Pfalz is full of mature vines and producing stunning wines. 

But the Flurbereiningung also had an unexpected surprise in the Pfalz. As they dug out the new vineyards and refurbished roads and pathways many people started to find ancient Roman artifacts. Karl found several items on the Pfeffingen properties including a Roman coin, a Roman blade, and several sarcophagi. Archeologists excavated what they could. But they couldn't take all of the artifacts, and some are still at Pfeffingen. 

<-- Jan shows us the ancient Roman blade. In the background you see the Roman sarcophagus that was hand-chiseled from local stone. 

Part of these historic findings included a Roman complex that dates to 300AD. In the photo to the left the walls are all authentic Roman stone, but the columns are modern replicas to give a more accurate idea of what it may have looked like.   

The complex came complete with a Roman bath. 
<-- Here is a picture of Jan & I taking a break in the 1,700 year old hot tub! 

Jan is a thoughtful guy with a great sense of humor. His mother Doris was one of the first three women to graduate from Geisenheim. Jan is also a Geisenheim graduate, and he and his wife, Karin, apprenticed winemaking in Australia. From speaking with him, you get the idea that he sees the big picture of wine; from his global experience he understands how Pfeffingen fits into the world market, and I'm sure he also came back home with an understanding of the uniqueness of his family winery. 

Pfeffingen owns several parcels, but one is incredibly unique. 

There are two known vineyards with terra rossa soil in Germany: the Steingruber in Westhoffen and this Weilberg vineyard in Ungstein. Pfeffingen's Weilberg vineyard has a strip of terra rossa soil that runs from the top of the hill to the bottom. The terra rossa portion takes up about 4 hectares of the vineyard's 30 hectares. Pfeffingen owns 2 of the 4 terra rossa hectares. They plant riesling on it, the co-op that owns the other half plants it with spatburgunder. 

Jan notes that, "Terra rossa is a very dense soil. It's very thick and extremely difficult to work with. When it's dry, it is as hard as concrete. When it's wet, it's really sticky." 

Here is an interesting comparison: 

Two rieslings, both made from vines approximately the same age, both picked at roughly the same Oeschle (ripeness level when picked), but grown on completely different soils. 

Pfeffingen "Herrenberg" GG Riesling, 2011 (Pfalz, Germany) 
KALKSTEIN soil, 27 year old vines
very savory aromas and flavors like fresh picked herbs, a sizzling mineral texture that lasts quite a long time

Pfeffingen "Weilberg" GG Riesling, 2011 (Pfalz, Germany) 
TERRA ROSSA soil, 30 year old vines
thick and rich, almost a sandy, soil texture that grates against the sides of the tongue. dense, dark, and spicy, with tension and depth. 

Pfeffingen's Scheurebe

Writing about Pfeffingen wouldn't be complete without bringing up Scheurebe. Karl Furhmann was instrumental in popularizing Scheurebe. Pfeffingen's work with the grape is so highly prized that the Pfalz government granted them special permission to produce Scheurebe GG/GL. (By law only riesling, pinot noir, and pinot blanc may be labeled as Grosses Gewachs/Grosse Lagen).  

Jan had plenty of insightful things to say about this grape: 

"Scheurebe can be a tough cookie in the vineyard. You need to have it in the right place on the right soil. It took my grandfather some time to discover that Herrenberg (limestone) was the best place. Unripe Scheurebe is green and herbaceous. As it gets riper the flavor profile becomes more like lime citrus. When it gets close to botrytis cassis, lychee, and mango notes come out. Scheurebe was bred to be disease resistant, so you don't get much botrytis, but it will happen late in the season. We pick twice-- first when it is just ripe to get the lime citrus notes, then later for the tropical notes, and we ferment these together."

Jan showed us this vineyard map of the Pfalz from 1828, which appears to be one of the earliest vineyard classifications of the region.

Here are some tasting notes from the wines that we tried:

Pfeffingen Weissburgunder trocken 2012 
(Pfalz, Germany)
94 Oeschle (combined), 6.1 g/L TA, 5.8g RS, 13% abv
this is a selection from loamy soils to make a smoother wine
rich and tart, like a fresh green pear; mild acidity, subtle mineral finish

Pfeffingen Dry Riesling 2012 "RWS" 
(Pfalz, Germany)
90 Oeschle (combined), 7.5 g/L TA, 6.7g RS, 12.5% abv
this is a selection from two vineyards, Nussriegl (loam & colored sandstone soils) and Herrenberg (limestone)
crisp, dry, and tart. star fruit, yellow stone fruit, tart pineapple, limestone-like minerality in the background.   

Pfeffingen Dry Scheurebe 2012 "RWS" (Pfalz, Germany)
89 Oeschle, 6.6g/L TA, 6.4 RS, 12.5% abv 
lychee, pineapple, yellow plum, white pepper

Pfeffingen Ungstein Gewurztraminer trocken 2012 (Pfalz, Germany)
95 Oeschle, 5.3g/L TA, 7.3 RS, 13% abv
this fruit comes from the Nussriegl vineyard grown on sandy soils from the creek. The grapes are grown on both sides of the creek; they often get poor flowering here. This wine used to be called "Gewurztraminer Spatlese Trocken," but the naming has changed under the new VDP laws, which require higher levels of RS to name wines by Pradikat names like Spatlese. For a comprehensive read about this issue (Pradikat labeling vs. terroir-based labeling), reference this previous post, Dry German Wine & the VDP.
rose petals, candied ginger

Pfeffingen "Herrenberg" GG Riesling, 2011 (Pfalz, Germany) 
KALKSTEIN soil, 27 year old vines
very savory aromas and flavors like fresh picked herbs, a sizzling mineral texture that lasts quite a long time

Pfeffingen "Weilberg" GG Riesling, 2011 (Pfalz, Germany) 
TERRA ROSSA soil, 30 year old vines
thick and rich, almost a sandy, soil texture that grates against the sides of the tongue. dense, dark, and spicy, with tension and depth. 

Hans-Joachim "Hanno" Zilliken stands in front of a portrait of his ancestor. His family has been making wine here since at least the mid-1700s. Today, Zilliken is still a family affair, and Hanno works together with his wife, Ruth, and daughter, Dorothy, to continue the tradition. 

The winery is officially titled "Weingut Forstmeister Geltz-Zilliken," and known commonly as "Zilliken." The word "Forstmeister" translates to "Forrest Master," and refers to Hanno's grandfather, who was the forester for the King of Prussia in the late 1800s/early 1900s era.  

<-- Saarburger Rausch is the vineyard where the Zillikens work much of their magic. It lies right on the edge of town. 

The winery is so interesting. It is a juxtaposition of the past and the present. On top of the ground, there is an ultra-modern tasting room with crisp, clean architecture. But if you descend below the house you come to several levels of wine cellar that are anything but "modern."   

When descending to the cellar's first cavern, the first thing you notice is that the crisp, modern, white walls change to old brick that is populated with billowing, cotton-like mold. Sunlight is verboten here. Hanno flicks on a light switch. As you carefully make your way down the staircase the air thickens and dampness envelops you. The smell of moss and life dances around your nose. You must balance your footing on the slippery floor.  

Hanno pushes on a huge door that has turned the colors of aging metal and reveals the barrels. In his own words, he makes "rieslings that float like butterflies." I feel that I am inside the nutrient-laden cocoon where his butterflies are hatched. 

Hanno does everything in 1000L wood barrels. These barrels are bigger than the Burgundian-stle barriques, but they are still on the small side. He doesn't want to ferment in larger containers because "in too large of a container, it almost cooks when it ferments." He wants a long, cool fermentation to draw out aromas. In this cool cellar, it takes several months for a barrel to ferment.   Wood has other charms as well:
"A special amount of oxygen helps the yeast ferment. And contact with the wood gets the acidity more round. The same wine in steel would taste more aggressive. Also, the wood doesn't get hot during a fermentation. So many other growers no longer use the casks-- it is more work, they are harder to clean, and it's more expensive. These are rieslings aged in oak but not oxidized." 

<-- Here is an especially long stalactite clinging to the ceiling. When you touch these stalactites, some of them feel slightly gooey to the touch, like a hard gel. Others looked like liquid drops, but felt hard to the touch. I wonder how much of the hard-matter content in the stalactite is minerals extracted from the wall, and how much finds its way in on airborne dust. 

<-- Within this incredible cellar there is a great library of riesling. 

The bottles rest in the atmosphere and appear to "sweat" with a thin sheen of moisture. 

And yes, the mold finds its way to the bottles as well, enshrouding them. It takes a certain trust-in-nature to allow your bottles to age this way. 

And juxtaposed against a voracious microbiology that grows where it wants is a meticulous order; neatly filed bottles left to rest in this special environment. 

This cellar reminds me of Nature herself: wildly unruly and yet ordered to an infinite degree. 

We taste some of the dry wines. 

Zilliken Saarburg "Alte Reben" Riesling Trocken 2012
There are 3 hectares of old vines in Rausch that are 60, 60, and 100 years of age. This "Alte Reben" is a selection of the 60 year old vines. 
This is dense and dry with an aroma of grunstein (the rock in this part of the vineyard). If you smelled a piece of the wet grunstein and then the wine, you could really pick up elements of aroma. The texture had this elegant filigree aspect to it. Hanno describes this as "liquid minerals."


Zilliken Saarburg Rausch Riesling GG 2012
Dry rieslings like this weren't always in production in the Saar region. It's interesting to see how, over the last decade, the VDP has helped shape and encourage this new wave of incredible dry rieslings. 
Slate & grunstein minerality, subtle intensity, very complex. 

<-- This is a new capsule, regulated by the VDP's new vineyard ranking system. We will start to see many of these with the 2012 vintage. Notice the band around the bottom of the capsule that reads "Grosse Lage"-- this is the VDP's new term for the highest quality vineyards (similar in theory to a Grand Cru site). 

We move away from the dry wines. 

Zilliken "Butterfly" Riesling 2012 (7.5g/L TA; 18g RS; 85-92 Oeschle)
light & elegant riesling that, in Hanno's words "floats like a butterfly."  

Then we delved into the wines with some higher RS levels. Since the VDP regulates that its top quality wines must be dry, this has bifurcated production among producers. VDP member will make a dry wine from their top sites (this may be picked at Kabinett/Spatlese/Auslese levels, but the sugars must be fermented through to dry) and label these wines as "Grosse Lage" or "Erste Lage" (for many producers they once called these GGs, or Grosses Gewachs, before the new system came into play; many have kept the letters "GG" on the label). Some producers are happy with this and focus on dry wine production. Others have traditions and preferences for making wines according to the Pradikat system, and make a second group of wines that can be labeled "Kabinett," "Spatlese," or "Auslese," but these wines eschew the prestigious Grosse Lage or Erste Lage classification.  For bottles from 2012 onward: if the wine says "Grosse Lage" on the capsule, you can assume that it will be dry. If the wine says Kabinett/Spatlese/Auslese and the producer is a member of the VDP, you can assume that it will have some noticeable RS. For non-VDP members, you still don't know because there are no national rules that govern RS (just must weight). 

Hanno poured us a neat comparison: the Rausch Diabas and the Rausch Kabinett. Both are from the same site, but the Diabas is a special selection from vines that are planted on the veins of diabase rock (hard, black, iron-rich stone that formed when lava cooled extremely fast eons ago). The Diabas ended up with too much RS to be labeled as a Grosse Lage (which is regulated to be dry), but Hanno could label it based on soil type (which seems to be a growing trend in Germany). He notes that "There are 18 grams of residual sugar but the diabase  absorbs all of the sweetness." His comment is an interesting observation of flavor perception: sometimes, sugar can be balanced by acidity, other times, it can be balanced by the perceived minerality in a wine. 

We tried a few of his 2012 Kabinette: 

Zilliken, Saarburger Riesling Kabinett 2012 (8.6g/l TA; 56g RS)
rich & balanced, flower petals, white peaches

Zilliken, Bockstein Kabinett 2012 (8.7g/L TA; 61g RS)
pretty & floral, with an interesting minerality

Zilliken, Rausch Kabinett 2012 (9.1g/L TA; 69g RS) 
This was like biting into one of those fresh, sun-warmed peaches at a road side farmer's market in North Carolina. It was so juicy with such lovely fruit; and the minerality that backed it all up drew out the finish for such a long time. What a great wine. 

We moved into the Spatlesen and Auslesen. 

Zilliken, "Saarbug Rausch" 2012 Riesling Spatlese
This Spatlese was picked with about 20% botrytis. 
This had an incredible clean aroma, like fresh coconut meant, mangoes, and peaches. 

Zilliken, "Saarbug Rausch" 2012 Riesling Spatlese - Auction  (9.9g/L TA; 100g RS; 102 Oeschle) 
This was a special Spatlese produced for auction only. 
Similar fruit aromas as the non-auction Spatlese, but with dried qualities: dried coconut meat, dried mangoes, dried peaches, dried pineapple. An intense mouthfeel; thick and rich. About the ageability, Hanno notes "It's made for other decades."  

Zilliken, "Saarbug Rausch" 2012 Riesling Auslese
He also poured some 2012 Rausch Auslese- a truly humbling wine. This was picked at 106 oeschle (that's really ripe!) and had about 40% botrytis. Many of the grapes were frozen when it was picked. 

Zilliken, "Saarbug Rausch" 2010 Riesling Auslese GK 
(12.7 g/L TA; 150g RS; 7.5 abv)

This was a real treat-- a taste of the GK Auslese. This is such a powerful wine. Rudi sips it and says "This wine will outlive all of us!" The acidity is so high, I can't even begin to imagine the agability. 

Evan Springarn and Rudi Wiest contemplate the Auslese that mystifies us all. 

"You see the range of possibilities," Hanno notes. "It's up and down; we are working with nature..." 

Here (photo on right) are the kind of slate soils that you find the Saarburger Rausch. 

Hanno poured the wine pictured to the left from a label-less bottle. We smelled. This was a different animal. It was old; it smelled herbaceous like asparagus, roasted mushrooms, and bacon fat. It was smokey, and really dry-tasting despite the 50g of residual sugar. It had a round creaminess at the end. I was mystified. I knew it was special, but I couldn't even begin to guess what it was. 

What a surprise: it was a 1980 Kabinett Icewine-- doubly  special because they no longer make Eiswein Kabinette anymore, and also because this was my birth year! 1980 was a rough year in most wine-growing regions around the planet, so finding a lovely wine from my birth year is a very unique treat! 1980 wasn't easy at Zilliken though. Hanno notes, "Here is an example of a tough vintage with green, herbal notes." 

I thought, "I'm not sure this family could get any sweeter or more hospitable" as they waved goodbye to us when we drove away... 

On a recent trip to Germany I got to stop by Weingut Schäfer-Fröhlich in the Nahe Anbaugebiete.  



<-- Weingut Schäfer-Fröhlich











<-- The Tasting Room

Schäfer-Fröhlich headquarters are based in Bockenau. 

<--- This is the town you drive through to reach their headquarters. 

Tim Fröhlich
Tim Fröhlich took over from his parents in the 1990s (1995 was his first official vintage) but his mother is still very much involved. They taste every parcel together and confer on the best way to proceed. Tim describes his mother's palate as very similar to his own. He goes on to elaborate that because they have such similar palates, their discussions about the wine always revolve around fine-tuning the tiniest details. These wines are so precise that I can't help but think that these talks with his mom have immensely shaped his direction of winemaking. It's special to find a winemaker so lucky to have a mentor that could guide him along such a narrow path. I imagine most winemakers start off with wild experiments to see what works and what doesn't, and it can take years to narrow down to refinement. Tim has had strong guidance from the beginning and has been able to skip over finding his way, and has jumped into fine-winemaking right from the start.  

I only spent about an hour tasting with Tim, and from that hour I'd describe his personality as intense, focused, and driven. He's a quiet guy, but you can tell that inside there is this glowing, meticulous, fierce intensity. He doesn't talk about sales or brands or the wine market-- he talks about grapes, soils, vintages, and vineyards. He is obsessed with his vineyards, and with coaxing the best from them. His intelligence is focused: he knows exactly what he wants from each vineyard and he mentioned that one of the greatest things he has going for him is a great vineyard management team. "They know what I want," he says, and it means so much to be able to trust them to prune and pick to his specifications.    

Tim on Yeast
Tim feels very strongly about doing wild yeast fermentations. He describes it this way: "When you use cultured yeast, or even domesticated wild local yeast, you end up with a 'Grand Style,' but you hide the year." To him, the most interesting thing about winemaking is how the particular year gives the wine its character. 

To cultivate these yeasts he farms with a philosophy that I'd call lutte raisonnée. He uses salts and biodynamic preparations at times, but this is mixed with other approaches based on weather and site. 

He and his mom choose when to pick by tasting the grapes. He has found that consistently, they end up picking fruit for their spätlese wines from the same parts of the vineyards.  He doesn't usually pass more than once through a site to pick in stages. To him, the later harvest vines express themselves as parcels. He tributes this understanding of the vineyard to meticulous vineyard management. His words of wisdom: "If you must make a lot of selections at the end, you didn't do the work at the beginning." 

Some soil samples from his various vineyards. 

Schafer-Frohlich, Blanc de Noir, Spatburgunder trocken 2012 (Nahe, Germany)

I noticed at the 2013 Weinbörse in Mainz that several producers made 2012 blanc de noir wines from pinot noir. From a linguistic viewpoint, it is interesting to note that everyone in Germany refers to these as "blanc de noir" instead of "Weiss vom Schwarz." 

For Tim, this is a great way to showcase his pinot noir vineyards until he has a larger winery and can start to make dry reds. 

These grapes come from Stromberg-- a very steep vineyard full of volcanic rock and planted with 35-40 year old Spätburgunder vines. 

When describing this wine to me, Tim says "We prefer maximum elegance;" and you can definitely taste this preferment!  The grapes from this site have much color in the skins; Tim wants a light color, so he does no skin contact and uses all free run juice. 

Schäfer-Fröhlich, Bockenauer Weisser Burgunder "R", 2012

This Weisser Burgunder comes from red slate in some steep places in Bockenauer. 
This was picked at 102 Oeschle (that's quite ripe!). 

Schäfer-Fröhlich GGs

These single vineyard Grosses Gewachs are what wine is all about. When I tasted through these side-by-side I had one of those profoundly personal wine experiences. I was awestruck and amazed. My idea of what riesling could be was forever changed. 

I've always appreciated riesling, and even loved it on occasion. I've curiously observed many wine geek friends who are absolutely obsessed with riesling and preach it like religion. I've watched them drool over the riesling section in wineshops. I've met up with them for dinner and seen them wide-eyed, pulling a bottle of riesling out of their bag to pour-- clutching the bottle with two hands as if it were the Holy Grail, meticulously portioning it out as if it were a rationed resource. I've gotten a kick out of their passion, I've been inspired by their undying, unwavering, unfaltering love of this grape. After this Schäfer-Fröhlich side-by-side GG tasting, I became one of them. 

I know the exact moment it happened too: we were on the third one, and I was suddenly overcome with the realization that I was experiencing something profound, unique, and special. 

There is a wide spectrum of what riesling can be; of how it can manifest. Tim's GGs exist within a very thin band of this spectrum, and while they are all similar, each one reveals an infinite inner world of subtle detail, subtle textural differences, über-expressive minerality, and electric energy. Driving energy, focused detail, subtle power: these qualities could describe both Tim and his wines. 

Here is more detailed information about these vineyards: 

Schlossböckelheimer Kupfergrube ("Copper Ditch")
Kupfergrube was originally planted between WWI & WWII on the site of an old copper mine. It is 14 hectares in total, very steep, with complex volcanic soil rich in a wide array of minerals. 

Schlossböckelheimer Felsenberg ("Rock Hill")
volcanic rock 

Monzinger Halenberg
80-90% slate with some white & black quartz deposits. 

Monzinger Frühlingsplätzchen ("Little Place of Spring")
Tim has a special parcel that is very steep and comprised of hard, red slate. 

Bockenauer Stromberg
very rocky & steep vineyard, calcerous soils, over 65 year old vines 

Bockenauer Felseneck
blue Devonian shale with quartzite and basalt 
Wild orchids grow in the rocky places of this vineyard, and a special flower-protection group ensures that these areas are protected. Tim recognized the potential of this vineyard and bought the entire Felseneck when the opportunity arose. He even purchased the steep part that is protected by the orchid group, in hopes that maybe one day, he can plant there. He sees the orchids growing among the vines and thinks that the two plants can coexist. 

And the riesling from this Felseneck vineyard: this is magical wine-- the kind of wine I dream about. 

<-- This is me holding a glass of Felseneck next to a soil sample from the vineyard. 







Tim describes a few past vintages from this vineyard: 

2008- "a very elegant wine, but the acidity is much brighter than in the 2012"

2010- "a special vintage because the harvest came very late"

2012- "The words for me are finesse and elegance."  I concur! 

What are Tim's plans for the future? Right now, he has no room to make red wines, but he wants to. Currently he makes a blanc de noir from some prized pinot noir grapes, but when he builds a larger winery, look out for his pinot noir. If the quality is anything like his rieslings, we can consider ourselves lucky as wine-drinkers!

It was such an honor to be included on Wine Enthusiast's list of 40 Under 40 Tastemakers!

Check out this fun video that we made!

The Dr. F Weins Prum table was pouring some great wines as well!

Hello Mainz!

I just got to Germany for this great wine festival- can't wait to see what's going on!

'WOMAN TAKES JOB AS WINE STEWARD," read the New York Times headline. In 1943, a female sommelier was newsworthy. You can read the full article here (you need to be a NYTimes subscriber), and come to your own assessments; but here is my account of how that headline led me on a chase after Mrs. Elizabeth Bird. 

I came across this clipping in February 2013, as I was doing some research for a completely different project (the history of the sommelier profession); in a search of the NYTimes archives this article popped up due to the "sommelier" theme. I read it. 

I read it again. I read it out loud to my husband. I read it a fourth time the next day. I couldn't get her out of my mind. I became charmed by the fragments of Elizabeth Bird's personality that shone through the article, and I truly think she deserves a new, 21st Century article, all to herself. Elizabeth Bird was most likely New York City's first female sommelier. 

I think back to some of the unique situations I have had to deal with as a 21st century female sommelier. There was the man who asked for the sommelier, then when I arrived asked for the sommelier again. "I am the sommelier." "But you are a woman?!" "Excellent observation, Sir; can I talk to you about the wine list?" "No, no! I'll just pick something out myself." Ironically, he chose a bottle made by a woman and her 8 sisters. After I poured the bottle, I told him this with a big smile. "Is it too late to return it?" he asked. "Sadly, it is," I informed him, "but cheers!"  There are the men who, after I open the bottle of wine, slap their knee and say "Sit on my lap!" Sorry, Santa, I'm busy! There are the caveats: "I'll only order this bottle if I can also get your phone number," I've given out my dad's number instead- touche! There was the experienced sommelier with whom I sat on a wine marketing panel-- he suggested to the winemakers that "it doesn't matter what the shape of the bottle is, just put a monkey or little animal on the label and women will buy it." And all this in the 21st century. My work environment is not always so draconian; in fact, 99.99% of the people I work with/wait on are incredible and inspiring human beings, but once in a while a situation makes me shake my head and wonder how far have we really come since the 1940s? 

The 1943 article clearly defines Elizabeth's female role at the time, and how she was expected to carefully interact with men: "She... has learned the knack-- the envy of many a wife-- of being respectful yet not obsequious; of getting her way without offending male vanity." The article went on to report her big secret about how to not offend the men she waited on: "One reason she gets along so well with the men... is that she sticks to things she knows something about." Interestingly enough, the article barely mentions her specific skills as a sommelier: what makes her selections special, what wines did she recommend? Instead, most paragraphs sensationalized the fact that a woman was performing this job. At work, she was not even allowed to have her own identity-- they had her change her name to the female version of her predecessor: Francine/Francois respectively. I cannot imagine what Elizabeth's (I mean, Francine's?) day-to-day stories must have been like in the 1940s, especially in the aftermath of the Times article. 

I question myself and wonder if my own post about Elizabeth (and this title "NYC's first female sommelier") is also a sensationalism of her sex. By making a big deal out of it, am I just feeding into the same hype that I find distasteful in the 1943 article? I've thought it through, and I've come to a peace with myself. I'm writing this because it is special that she was the first woman to break into a classically male job position in Manhattan; and when you are the first of an underprivileged group to break through a career barrier, your example helps to change the rules of the game. Her unique place in history signals a change in culture-- or a willingness for culture to change. I don't think she was special simply for being a female sommelier-- there are thousands of female sommeliers in the world right now, and our jobs are no different from male sommeliers. But she was special for being the first. Because she bore the brunt of the sensationalism and was on the receiving end of press attention for being a female sommelier, those of us who have followed have not had to deal with it as much, and we've been able to focus more on our jobs, instead of on our femaleness. 

I wanted to know more about Elizabeth.  I wanted to paint the full picture-- a real flesh-and-blood person who contributed to her field; not merely a "Francine" who did her best to avoid offending "male vanity."

I started the research process. Every living thing leaves an imprint on the Earth in one way or another, and I was sure if I looked in the right places, I could find Elizabeth's paper trail. I culled each detail from the article and created a time line of her life. I got a birth year range, the approximate year she was married, and I knew she had worked in Bermuda. I ran these dates through census records, marriage records, and ship/plane passenger logs to Bermuda. I came up with a few possible hits, but nothing conclusive. I was missing key details that would help me identify her. I needed her maiden name, or her husband's first name. I needed a birthday-- anything that could turn up a census record. The way I saw it- if I could find her descendants, I might be able to contact them, find out more, maybe even get a photograph of her. There had to be more than just this newspaper clipping! 

After a week of searching I had nothing-- not a single census record or travel record. It was as if she never legally existed on paper. When you do research like this, you have to keep an open mind. Sometimes, people creating the search data banks from the census records will type a name wrong, read the census-taker's handwriting incorrectly, scan the wrong side of certain documents-- I've found tons of clerical errors in the past, and even made a few myself. It can be pretty messy. Perhaps she was in the files somewhere, but was not turning up in any searches because of a misspelled name, or a space in the wrong place... 

But you also have to keep an open mind about life's uncertainties and how these may have affected the person you are trying to find. Perhaps her husband Mr. Bird died shortly after the article was written. If she re-married, there would be no records to find for an "Elizabeth Bird," it would be under her new surname. Also, what if her given name was undesirable, and Elizabeth was actually her middle name? If Elizabeth was a middle or nickname, she would not turn up in any legal searches. 

And what if she told an untruth in the article? When asked her age, the reporter notes that she replied, "Put it down as 35." Was she 35, or slightly older? If so, how slightly older? I began to check records for Elizabeths born between 1897 and 1907-- I couldn't imagine her stretching her age by more than 10 years. Several Elizabeth Birds popped up, and though none of them might be my girl, I decided to follow up on all of them. 

The Times reporter mentioned she is a "native New Yorker." In all of my searches I assumed she had been born in New York, and I had disregarded other possibilities. What if she moved to New York as a baby but still considered herself a native? What if she moved to new York as a baby but her parents never told her because they didn't want her to deal with the difficulties they faced with their own immigration processes? There were so many What-Ifs.....  

Research has a funny way of unfolding, though. If you are open to it, a seemingly tiny or unimportant detail can unlock endless doors. Sometimes simply re-reading your own notes will lead you to a "eureka" moment. 

Genealogy 
I started fresh the next week and re-reviewed the documents I had collected. I had found three Elizabeth Birds living in NYC during the 1940 census. When I looked closer, I realized that one of them was too old to be our Elizabeth, and one of them was a widow in 1940-- this could not be our Elizabeth Bird, since in 1942 she was still happily married and had been for 16 years. 

I looked into the third Elizabeth Bird. At first I was discouraged, because on the census it stated that she had no occupation and no income. Was this a different lady? I wondered if it was common practice at that time to keep waitress jobs under-wraps to avoid paying taxes on the income... I thought back and in all my genealogy research I have never actually seen "Waitress" listed as an occupation on a census record. Perhaps it was common practice not to mention it-- kind of like how I never considered "babysitter" my occupation while in highschool. I also figured it was possible she was not working at the time of the census and got the job at the Algonquin a little bit later (the Times article appeared over two years later, in 1943, after all). 

I decided to seek out her descendants, and contact them to see if I could confirm her identity. I did a little research and discovered that this particular Elizabeth Bird had a daughter and a son. Both had passed away. She also had grandchildren and great grandchildren-- If this was our Elizabeth, might one of her grandchildren have a story or photo from her days at The Algonquin?

The Algonquin
In the meantime, I headed to her former place of work. Most of us rush as fast as we can through the hustle and bustle near Times Square and Rockefeller Center, but next time you are on 44th Street, between 5th & 6th Avenue, look up to see the Algonquin Hotel. It was here, 70 years ago, that Elizabeth worked as waitress. She had 22 years of waitress experience, and when Francois-- the Algonquin sommelier-- retired, she asked for the job. 

The Algonquin is a storied hotel, and a bastion of Manhattan history. When you enter the lobby, you instantly feel it saturated with personality. The lobby cats meander around amidst the palms and ferns and snuggle with the receptionists. The long-time employees have their own profiles on the Algonquin's website. Music from the 1940s plays in the background and echoes off the dark wood paneling and marble floors. The Algonquin gained notoriety for the Round Table club of writers that met there each day for lunch in the 1920s. Dorothy Parker was one of the famous regulars and her name still drifts about the hotel, haunting many a conversation. 

The Algonquin has historically been a special place for women. Not only were they the first to hire a female sommelier (our Elizabeth), but they were the first Manhattan hotel to officially welcome female guests traveling alone (i.e., without a male chaperone). 

I naively approached the reception desk-- of course they would be as interested in this as I was. 

"Hello, I'd like to speak to a manager."
"In regards to what?," the receptionist said as she pet a lobby cat that had curled up next to her phone. 
"I'm writing an article about an employee that worked here back in the 1940s, and I wanted to see if there were any records I could take a look at." 
"Let me call the manager."
She called the manager & explained what I was looking for. "What is the name of the employee?"
"Elizabeth Bird," I clarified. My heart began to beat faster-- I was sure that I would find the answers I was looking for here at The Algonquin. 
"Elizabeth Bird." she echoed into the phone to the mystery manager. 1 second pause. "No, we don't have anything on her."
"But... but, this is really important!" 
"I'm sorry, but I have some information on Dorothy Parker if you want?" She shrugged. The cat she pet gave me a surly look. 

I was shocked. Obviously, the manager on the other end of the line hadn't gone through any records to see if there had been an Elizabeth Bird- how could they have in 1 second? I swallowed my pride. It's difficult to accept that something so important to you might be of zero consequence to someone else. 

I glanced back. "This is not the last you'll hear of me, Algonquin!" I thought. I sent a flurry of query emails to the addresses listed on the Algonquin website. I am still waiting for a response. 

Contacting Elizabeth's Possible Descendants
Without the hotel's help, I saw Elizabeth's descendants as the only lead left. I got the names of her possible grandchildren and literally spent hours searching for them on social networking sites and in on-line phonebooks. I found a few phone numbers, but most of the numbers were old, out-of-service, or had changed to fax numbers. I sent a few messages through linked-in, but wasn't sure if I'd get any responses. But the sun was setting on the day, and I still hadn't made contact. There is always a point in the research process when you start to feel a bit insane and have to question the basis of your own tenacity. You must ask yourself why you care so much about someone who is long-dead and virtually unknown. As I was about to hit "send" on my last email, I thought "What am I doing? I have one day off work at the restaurant, and I'm emailing people I don't know about a woman from the 1940s!" If you can work through this point in your research and truly commit yourself to finding the answer, then, I think, it must be a story worth telling. 

For me, I already saw Elizabeth as a household name (for sommeliers anyway). I truly believe that Wine is an emerging discipline, and that right now, bloggers and wine writers are drafting the founding documents that the next generation of wine writers will build upon. Elizabeth Bird will be a part of the story, and these emails and phone calls on my day off will make that happen. History isn't what happened. History is what writers say happened. Without someone to write about her, she would be left out of the story, and I could not allow her to be overlooked. 

Bleary-eyed, I did one last phone search and came up with a number. "What the heck!" I thought, and dialed. Then something wild happened... 

A voice answered! 

I hadn't really thought about what to say. In an instant I realized how crazy it would sound to say, "Hi, I have some questions about your grandma." If someone called me and said that, I might hang up. I'd be suspicious that they were phishing or trying to steal my identity. A small eternity of panicked silence went by that was actually about 1 second. Then, I got a blow of energy and took a cue from Elizabeth herself: I boldly asked for what I wanted, as she had done for her sommelier job a lifetime ago. 

"Hi, my name is Erin Scala, and I am writing a piece about your grandmother Elizabeth Bird. I'm looking for some details about her, and a photo if you have it. Elizabeth was the first woman to work as a sommelier, or wine steward, in Manhattan."

Thankfully, the Elizabeth's granddaughter gave me the time of day. I tried to be as transparent as possible; I explained my purpose for calling, and by the end of our conversation, she seemed interested in Elizabeth's possible role in history. We exchanged emails, and I sent along copies of the documents I had collected.  

But as of yet, we have been unable to confirm with 100% certainty that her grandmother Elizabeth is our sommelier Elizabeth. But maybe one day a link will turn up... 

Restaurants in the 1940s

I love the last few sentences of the New York Times article: "The maitre d'Hotel, Raul Viarenzo, was reluctant. He questioned her carefully and decided to give her a tryout... That was six weeks ago. Today he is wondering why he was so worried about her ability."  Especially in the climate of the time, Viarenzo could have easily laughed off Elizabeth's request. Though in retrospect his reluctance seems unfair, the truth is that he gave her an unexpected chance, and, while doing so, he took a risk and broke the status quo of the time. I'm sure he had to clear his decision with the hotel owner, Frank Case, and perhaps Case-- ever the brilliant marketer-- gave her the job in hopes for a media blitz along the lines of the New York Times article-- perhaps he even arranged for the article to be written. Standing apart from the crowd had worked to get press for The Algonquin in the past; breaking the status quo is something that Algonquin owner Frank Case was not afraid to do on a regular basis! 

But there must have been more. It couldn't have been merely a press stunt. They wouldn't have opened up this job to Elizabeth unless she showed true potential to be a fine sommelier. She most likely cited her previous sommelier experience in Bermuda. She probably spoke with tables about wine on Francois' day off. Often the roles of "waiter" and "sommelier" overlap, and in her 22 years of waitress experience she most assuredly recommended bottles of wine to guests. 

There are hints that Elizabeth knew her stuff. When it came to food & wine pairing, she is quoted as saying, "After all, you don't serve the same wine with fish that you do with beef. It's like telling a man to wear an overcoat in July." The article mentions that Elizabeth was a great cook, and that her interest in taste and food helped to drive her interest in wine.  The writer also points out that she was well versed in vintages due to her long experience in the industry. 

And the dining environment of Manhattan was as dynamic as ever. Just 50 years prior to Elizabeth's tenure as sommelier at The Algonquin "the sommelier" was barely a profession in the United States. In fact, a la carte dining as we know it had not yet come to the United States, and American guests who traveled to Europe relayed horror stories about interactions with sommeliers who ripped them off-- an air of suspicion surrounded the sommelier. 

In Elizabeth's day, the a la carte menu had just started to gain popularity in Manhattan due to the success of the French-owned Delmonicos: the owners had set up their menu like the a la carte French menus back home, and by doing so they revolutionized dining in Manhattan. In the early 1900s, you'd be hard pressed to find a restaurant that wasn't serving tavern-style, cafeteria-like stews and roasts. But at Delmonico's, they had a menu with numerous items on it from which you could choose your selection; Delmonico's had an entire kitchen staff ready to cook you a meal to order. The excitement of a la carte dining must have creeped a few blocks over to The Algonquin Hotel. Frank Case must have dined at the neighboring Delmonico's on occasion and been inspired to emulate the things they were doing. Perhaps he was even moved by Delmonico's to start his own wine cellar (after Prohibition, of course) and hire the sommelier, Francois. 

The Great Depression also took its toll on The Algonquin. In 1929-- just 14 years before Elizabeth became the sommelier there-- a man ordered dinner, finished his coffee, took out a revolver, and shot himself in the Algonquin dining room after loosing all his money. She must have heard of this incident. 

As Elizabeth got her job at The Algonquin, WWII raged in Europe. Returning soldiers and those on leave must have come back exhausted, wounded, with horror stories and a taste for European wine. She must have spoken to many of them as she took their orders and opened their wine bottles, as they attempted to have a few hours of elegance before shipping out again. 

During Elizabeth's lifetime, she witnessed WWI, The Great Depression, Prohibition, and WWII. She must have lost so many friends and neighbors in the wars, she must have listened to the radio with fear as news of Nazi invasions broke on the airwaves. She also must have heard the soldiers' stories about the restaurants and wines in France, she must have been entranced by tales about the great winemakers in Bordeaux and Burgundy. 

She also had her own welfare to worry about. Perhaps Prohibition is what led her to travel to Bermuda and work at a hotel there-- I'm sure she could have made a better living selling alcohol and food in Bermuda, rather than simply selling food in the US. If a 2nd Prohibition ever came to the US and cut my pay in half, I'd probably move to the Caribbean too. 

The Time Line of Elizabeth Bird

And here we are-- we've gone around the track and returned to the starting line. Despite all this searching and postulating, in a way, we are back where we started. We have a few facts, but the rest of her substance has sifted through our fingers, and Mrs. Elizabeth Bird remains a shadow. Still, I can't help but marvel that her career move back in 1943 helped pave the way for me and countless colleagues to have the jobs we do today. I feel that the best way I can pay homage to her is to shine a light on her place in history. Here are the facts about Elizabeth Bird; I will continue my search to fill in the blanks:
 
1900-1907  (probably 1905)
Elizabeth was born. In 1943 when the reporter asked her age, she said, "Put it down for 35," implying that she was actually a little older than 35, so I placed her birth year at some point from 1900-1907. 

1921 - she became a waitress - In the 1943 article she stated that she had been a waitress for 22 years, which places her starting year close to 1921. 

1922-1940 - worked in Bermuda- at some point during this time period she traveled to Bermuda and worked as a hotel waitress. While there, she studied a book about wine and was promoted to sommelier. 

1927- Elizabeth married Mr. Bird. In the 1943 article she mentions that she has been married to the same man for 16 years placing their marriage at approximately 1927. 

1943- Approximately April 12th, 1943,  Elizabeth becomes a sommelier at the Algonquin Hotel. 

1943- May 24th 1943- the New York Times publishes the article about Elizabeth. 

The Act of Searching
There is only so much I can tell you about this special sommelier, because she is no longer here to tell you herself. But, for me, the process of chasing Elizabeth Bird is as important as her story. I cannot imagine the joy an archeologist must feel when they uncover the first layers of dirt on an ancient site-- what secrets will the ground give up? In a way, I felt the same way when I stumbled upon the Times article about Elizabeth-- except instead of the earth, I was mining a few quotes from an unknown woman who, in her own small way, changed the world. 

By placing what little we know about Elizabeth against a backdrop of the political, cultural, and economic landscape of her time, the hazy picture of her comes into focus. By chasing Elizabeth Bird we give her moment in history a place in the timeline of the sommelier profession; in the act of searching we honor her contribution to our field. 

The chocolatier scene in Manhattan is creative, inspiring, and inventive. Chocolatiers all over the city make whimsical treats, and the world of chocolates often overlaps with savory flavors, pastry concepts, mixology, and wine. 

I see chocolatiers as an elite group of pastry chefs, known for their creativity and ability to work well with such a finicky product. They work at a unique intersection where all flavor concepts are viable: a chef may rarely get to work with cacao, but a chocolatier will work with any of a chef's main ingredients on a given day. A pastry chef may send out for truffles, but a chocolatier must know how to work with all sorts of pastry concepts. A bartender may never use chocolate behind the bar, but chocolatiers work with alcohol on a regular basis. 

Chocolate has always overlapped with beverages; it has been drunk as a beverage for several thousands of years, and only over the last few centuries have solid chocolates emerged as a mainstream concept. 

Especially when considering chocolate's beverage-oriented history, it is interesting to see how today's beverages have influenced the production of solid chocolates. When it comes to drink-inspired chocolates, sometimes a chocolate will be inspired by a particular wine, at other times, a chocolate will emulate a popular cocktail. It is popular to fill chocolates with booze and ganache. Tea powders or essences might be used, or chocolates might be meant to artistically resemble or evoke the idea of a beverage.

Here are a few of my favorite drink-inspired chocolates from around Manhattan:

At Bond St. Chocolates, the chocolatier is a former restaurant pastry chef veteran. She is not messing around with her Elijah Craig bourbon chocolates, or her rum chocolates. Once you are good and buzzed off of these, it is interesting to ponder the gilded chocolate mini-statues she makes of the Buddha, Mary, and other religious figures.  

The shop is very tiny, and the chocolate making area is right behind the counter, so you can always smell what fresh chocolate is in the works. 

<--- Here is Chocolat Moderne's Green Apple & Calvados infused caramel. 

They also make one called "Player," filled with Peaty Single Malt Scotch flavored caramel. 

<--  L'atelier makes this interesting chardonnay and oak-smoked chocolate. 

At Marie Belle, they offer several cocktail-inspired chocolates. 

Here is their "Caipirinha" made with white chocolate, cachaca and lime---->

They also have a "Mojito" chocolate made from rum and mint. 

<---  At Marie Belle they also have some chocolates inspired by spirits, like this Frangelico chocolate. 

Xocolatti




<--- At Xocolatti their wall is lined with chocolate boxes; you feel as if you are literally inside of a chocolate box! They have a blue-tinted sake flavored truffle. 

Royce

Royce chocolates are a bit different- these come from Japan, and you can purchase boxes of chocolate covered potato chips, green tea flavored chocolate bites, or Champagne flavored chocolate. 

Kee's

Kee's is one of my favorites in the city-- these chocolates are always homemade and fresh. Their drink-inspired chocolates include:  Cognac, Green Tea, Mango-Green Tea, Mint Mocha, and Champagne. 

Maison

Maison is old school and professional-- all the employees have perfect posture and are always buttoned up. The chocolates line up ever so perfectly, and the service is on point; but you might want to let lose when you have a bite of their "Bacchus" chocolate made with rum and flambe raisins!

<---Bacchus - Rum & Flambe Raisins