The Exception To The Rule
I think many fellow wine lovers can relate when I say that as soon as temperatures begin to drop, the days grow shorter, and the green canopy gives way to copper tones, the desire to switch to red wines increases exponentially. In my case, that usually means Sangiovese, Nebbiolo, Pinot Noir, or Syrah. Yet I make one notable exception to this seasonal rule: the glorious whites of Alsace.
Perhaps it’s because my first trip there coincided with a spell of beautiful autumn weather, when vineyards shimmered in gold as far as the eye could see. Or maybe it’s because some of my fondest memories are tied to family trips at Christmastime—combining vineyard visits with ice-skating sessions and strolls along cobblestone streets adorned with twinkling lights. Whatever the reason, fall and early winter remain, for me, inseparable from Alsace and its wines.
I can already hear the dissenting voices pointing out that the Langhe in autumn are just as irresistible, offering perhaps the world’s most seductive food and wine pairing: white truffle and Nebbiolo. There, golden and bronze vines cascade over the hills, framed by the jagged profile of the snow-capped Alps. Then there’s the Côte d’Or, whose dormant-season mystique only deepens when shrouded by a stubborn layer of mist, while thin columns of smoke rise from the vineyards where pruned cuttings burn—as if vignerons were quietly communicating through the fog. All fair points, I must concede. Yet to me, Alsace has an edge on both. Its autumnal glow only heightens the region’s quiet, magnetic charm, and winter lays a veil of snow over its slanted roofs and rows of vines.
The villages dotting the strip of land between the Rhine River and the Vosges Mountains are so picturesque that one might think the Brothers Grimm had drawn up the city plans. In October and November, crooked alleys and half-timbered, colorful houses sit crammed amid a sea of radiant vines. The plants, in their most vibrant shades of amber and ochre, encircle ramparts and medieval towers, climbing the foothills of the Vosges range.
Many of the region’s grand cru sites—especially those in the southerly Haut-Rhin sector—are truly grand in both scale and gravitas. They cling to steep, imposing slopes, whose summits I’ve often dragged my family to via precarious stone staircases and muddy trails, wading through the grass between the rows of vines in search of a sweeping view or that elusive, perfect photograph. Need convincing of their grandeur? Type one of the following into your browser: Sommerberg, Brand, Schlossberg, Schoenenbourg, Geisberg, or Rangen. They may not be as vertiginous as the Mosel or as rugged as Côte-Rôtie, but they possess the quiet perfection of being integral to one of the most breathtaking landscapes in the wine world.
And then the wines themselves. At their best, their intensity of flavor and firm structure demand equally rich dishes—perfect for warming body and spirit during the cold winters of continental Europe. They span an astonishing spectrum: from razor-sharp, bone-dry expressions to lush, unctuous nectars (Sélection de Grains Nobles), as well as méthode traditionnelle sparkling (Crémant d’Alsace). Match a gifted grower with a great site (there’s a mosaic of soils—up to thirteen types!) and you’ll discover a textural opulence and layered richness that will make your palate short-circuit for a moment. Not surprisingly, these wines shine alongside the region’s hearty, meat-centric cuisine. Though I’ll never turn down a Michelin-starred meal, my ideal food tends to be more rustic, even primitive—and Alsatian fare fits that mold to perfection. Sure, after a few dinners you might need an artery-cleansing diet, but what could be better than Baeckeoffe—a stew of three meats, potatoes, and onions—paired with a mature grand cru Pinot Gris or Riesling on a frigid evening in December?
Intreigued? If so, visit your trusted cheesemonger and get yourself a hunk of pungent Munster cheese. Make sure to wash it down with an Alsatian Gewürztraminer—if possible, follow the above-mentioned rule of matching top grower and site. A combination sure to make your taste buds sing. For maximum enjoyment, I suggest pairing your snack with good company, a comfortable couch, and Mozart’s Symphony No. 40.