A Love Letter to Riesling
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Dear Riesling, I am usually pretty secure with my sexuality. I have been known to have an eye on more than one grape. Each grape has its own special quality, an endearing aroma, a lasting impression. It has been so difficult for me to stay true to one grape. Some people may say that I am a grape chauvinist, but it is something thing I cannot control. I have always felt secure and comfortable in a social setting amongst grapes. I’ve never had a problem approaching a grape and dropping a good line. It has never been an issue, until now.
Riesling you are so beautiful and kind-hearted. You have gone unnoticed by the average wine drinker and dismissed as just being sweet. It was not until Master Sommeliers openly divulged their love for you that everyone started to take an interest in you. My sweet Riesling, you probably don’t believe me. I have been known to be a grape-enizer. My history with Grenache, Tempranillo and Chardonnay probably makes you roll your eyes when I say this. But this is the first time I have felt insecure. Yes. I too am a Sommelier, but just a lowly certified Sommelier. I cannot compete with the all-knowing, cultured Master Sommelier. It might be that I have pin envy. I see those guys flaunting their large, shiny oval red pins proclaiming their love for you. It makes me so mad! I just hope that you can see past the size of the pin, and know that true love is not based in ego.
Since the day that your vater, Traminer and your motehr, Gouais Blanc conceived you in their mother land, Deutschland along the Rhine River; you’ve picked up a few admirers. The first were those Romans wielding their shields and spears, marching down the Rhine planting your roots into black rock. Their sheer power turned you on. These were strong men whom you left crossed-eyed with jaws hanging wide open when they drank your sweet juice. They transported you throughout their empire. You were flattered by all the attention you received throughout the empire. You were still only a girl; unfortunately, you could not see what was about to come. (more…)




Every Monday I have a tasting group where I meet with several sommeliers from San Diego and we practice blind tasting. One of my colleagues is