Sweet-talked into a Sweet Wine Region

Budapest sat at the tail end of our Central Europe trip 2017, the last destination before we headed back to Spain to meet the yacht in Palma de Mallorca.  It is the grungy cousin of the posh Vienna, the one who’s always got a fag in his hand and a ripped Death Metal t-shirt on.  A few unexpected things happened here - we got inexplicably upgraded to a 5-star hotel by the 3-star hotel we were originally booked at; we ate stacked scrambled eggs that defied gravity and reason in the majestic but tourist-centric New York Cafe; and we had the best falafel plate ever in an inconspicuous diner owned by an aged gentlemen with kind eyes.  Budapest was generally pleasant, if a little enigmatic.  It was only on our day trip to Tokaj were we able to see what really was behind the curtain.

In planning our Euro-trip, I was adamant that we visit some vineyards, much to my partner, James’ chagrin.  It’s not the wine that annoys him - oh, he loves the juice - it’s the wine-talk that drives him completely mental.  Tokaj will be different, I explained, its a sweet wine region, so really we’d be having dessert the whole day.  And secondly, I know next to nothing of this place, so my nerding will be confined to listening, not talking.  Unilaterally, I sought out Gergerly Somogyi, of Tokaj Today, a local Tokaj guru.  On the day of our appointment, Gergerly picked us up at our hotel, and James, unconvinced but ever the trooper, got in the car before dawn for a two and a half hour drive through rain and mud to the famed region.

I expected an awkward two hours of ice-breaking and self-introductions, but Gergerly proved to be the most gracious and natural host.  He spoke a little bit about himself and his dear wife, and it became evident that he’s not just a tour guide - he was absolutely passionate, proud and involved in the Tokaj wine scene.  He spoke of the famous sweet wine, the degrees of botrytis affectation, and the indigenous grape varieties.  He spoke of the redrawing of the Hungarian map after World War One and Two, the communist history, the rediscovery of grand sites in Tokaj, and the daring pursuit of dry wines and sparkling wines in a region so singularly heralded for its specialized aszu wines.  

Patricius

Our first stop was Patricius, a large producer helmed by the Kekessy family. It was a public holiday and the wine room was technically closed, but the winery staff was kind enough to stop by and let us in.  Gergerly provided the commentary as we weaved from the sorting room to the pressing room, where barrels and barrels of raw aszu berries crushed in its own weight gave wafts of fermenting sweetness. We tasted the wines, with the truffle-ladened 2006 6-puttonyos Tokaj Aszu being the outstanding number for us.  James was placated with the kept promise of sweet wines, and he was also enamoured by Gergerly’s wine-talk, which, instead of the usual somm jargon and secret language, was laden instead with history and local knowledge that opened our eyes to the country itself.  We continued conversation throughout the heartiest lunch I’ve had in a long time, feasting in dry Furmint and Mangalica pork at Elso Madi Borhaz in Mad.

Tokaj Nobilis

After lunch, we drove to Bodrogkeresztur and arrived at Tokaj Nobilis, owned and headed by one of the pioneers of dry and sparkling Tokaj, Sarolta Bardos.  Tall, dark-haired and with an easy demeanor, Sarolta took us through her cellar and wine room and explained to us her heart in sparkling wine production and what she saw as the potential of her region.  Being around her you could feel the aura of her conviction, and in her wines the proof of her faith.  

The first wine she poured us was what I was waiting for this whole time - a dry Furmint sparkling wine made in the champagne method.  Sarolta remarked that most of the sparkling wine from Tokaj uses this method, which surprised me.  Why, I asked, when Furmint is such a delicate, fruit forward wine when drunk dry?  The answer was partly, and understandably, economics.  Because the production is still so small, getting specialized machinery to handle secondary tank fermentation and bottling under pressure - the Charmat method most associated with Prosecco - would be too expensive, especially at such an early experimental stage.  So instead, some extra champagne bottles were used for secondary fermentation, and yes it takes more time, more effort for the winemaker, but the results are fascinating. Yet, a part of me does still wonder how Furmint would do with the Charmat method, given its beautiful fresh primary aroma and silky texture.

Amongst the dry wines we tasted, the Harslavelu and the Muscat really surprised me.  Harslavelu can be intensely floral, like Viognier, and is similarly low in the acidic scale.  But Sarolta’s deft and trustworthy hands has coaxed beautiful balance here.  Muscat was surprisedly delicious.  I had trepidations about the thought of having to pretend to like the wine, as Muscats I’ve tried from Alsace and Greece were almost always too perfumed, with little base flavours to put your foot on.  But again, this Muscat sang with lovely acidity, a flow of flowery accents and a base of citrus lime.  It was stunning.  She told me that this is the everyday wine of Tokaj, the easy ‘middle of the week’ wine.  I would wager your middle-of-the-week would feel a lot more special with a sip of this!

And finally, her 5 puttonyos Aszu.  It was serious, savoury, succulent, sweet.  When you think of how mouldy and dry the aszu grapes were when picked, you’d realize why it’s so savoury - the grape is truly and wholly infected by botrytis.  It starts off as wet earth, then button mushrooms, then peaks with truffle aromas and then finally the sweetness comes, alongside ripe caramelized pineapples, a hint of peaches and the tropical fevour of passionfruit.  It was intense. I asked her, Why play around with sparkling wines and dry wines when this elixir is so complete, so exquisite? And the answer saddened me, although did not surprise me.  Sweet wines are not popular anymore.  Evidence abounds: Champagne goes from Brut to Extra Brut to Brut Zero; dry Rheingau Riesling is rapidly surpassing the fame of Mosel Spatlese; and major sweet wine regions like Sauternes and Tokaj are fading away like the stars of yesteryear.  

The region must adapt, must yield to trends and fads, or risk fading into slow decline.

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Stay tuned for Tokaj, Hungary Part 2...

**Blog posts are not necessarily in chronological order, and is based on travel notes and fond memories.