A year ago, besides the vintage, I didn’t bat an eyelid at any number on a wine label. Seeing a shiny medal with the words “98 Points from Uncle Bob” on a bottle rarely happens in the company I keep but if it had any effect, it would only be to spur my eyes towards the next wine on the shelf. (Yes, I’m one of those people who actively snub guides and medals. “A millenial,” you might say.) I also paid absolutely no attention to the number preceding the percentage sign on the label. I’m ashamed to admit that I would sometimes silently judge customers who came into the shop, pick up a bottle from the shelf only to put it down again in a hurry and turn away, all whilst exhaling, “oh no, no, I can’t, it’s 13%.”
For that reason, it was a surprise to catch myself picking out the following wine from all the others that were staring back at me *because of* it’s low-alcohol level.
Admittedly, it’s one the more minor consequences of having a baby but nine months off the sauce have hit both my tolérance and my taste buds. I went out with a couple of girlfriends last week and realised what a cheap date I’ve become: two drinks and it was time for carriages!
So, as I was fumbling around in the cellar the other day, I came across this bottle and the “10%” written on the label drew me to it. I don’t know much about the winery – but Google tells me that Nittnaus is a family-run winery with 11 hectares of vineyards in the Neusiedlersee region, near Gols in Austria. That’s a good sign because this is one of Austria’s most exciting regions for natural wine, with a new crop of emerging passionate and dynamic winemakers. (Judith Beck, Claus Preisinger, Paul Achs and Heinrich, to name a few.)
With all to play for and no time to lose, I reached for the corkscrew and plunged my nose in the glass. Beautiful deep violet colour, aromatic nose of cassis, cherry and orchard fruits. A hint of reduction at the very beginning but it disappeared after a minute in the glass. The aromas are of only medium intensity but they are present. There’s a whiff of parma violet sweets too. Moving on, the mouth is harmonious, youthful and tending towards the spices of cinnamon and cloves. Light bodied but surprisingly elegant for its low alcohol. There’s relatively low acidity and no sign of garishly under-ripe grapes that I was afraid of. Tannins are easy and fine-grained. The main body slips away but a pleasant after-taste lingers on.
Sankt Laurent is a sibling of Pinot Noir but don’t be fooled: this wine bears no resemblance to a Burgundy and only a passing one to a new world Pinot Noir. There’s none of the French austerity and even after the bottle has been open for two days, it remains intact and lively. It’s a refreshing, simple but satisfying wine and if they’re all like this, I’ll be more likely to pick one out again in the future.