Great whites

Alsace rises above the sea of chardonnay

by Thor Iverson

I ADMIT IT: I'm sick of chardonnay. Whether it's ultra-expensive white Burgundy, a massive over-oaked fruit bomb from Australia or California that deadens the palate after a few sips, or one of the flailing attempts from Italy, Spain, and elsewhere to emulate one of those styles, there's a pervasive abuse of this potentially great grape that I just can't stomach anymore. And even when it is good, chardonnay often turns surly when asked to share the spotlight with food.

Thankfully, there are alternatives -- wines that have the character and strength to match heavy-hitting chardonnay blow for blow, the subtlety to seduce food into blissful union, and an ability to develop and age as long as the greatest of the great Burgundies, or longer. Where? Look north from the hills of Burgundy to the dramatic slopes and valleys of Alsace.

And while you're at it, give thanks that at least one French region is consumer-friendly. Unlike the appellation-based wines of Bordeaux, Burgundy, and the Rhône and Loire Valleys, Alsatian wines are identified by their grape variety (Alsace does make nonvarietal, blended wines, but these are rarely seen in the US). Best of all, Alsatian wines are frequently outstanding bargains, and they match perfectly with almost any dish that demands a white wine.

Fans of German wines will find much that is familiar in Alsace, including the rather Germanic-looking labels and the tall, thin flutes that are the region's signature bottles. But there's an important difference: Alsatian wines are bone-dry. (The only exceptions are special, and usually high-priced, wines labeled "Vendange Tardive" -- late harvest -- which can be sweet but are usually not; and "Sélection des Grains Nobles," which are botrytis-infected dessert wines of almost unbelievable sweetness and richness.)

The premier grape of Alsace is riesling. Young, simple Alsatian rieslings are flinty and bear an unmistakable "petrol" character, with high acidity and a delicious mix of lemon, lime, and apple flavors. Better rieslings are almost impenetrably steely when young, but age to a delicious richness not totally unlike that of many Burgundies.

Pinot gris (a/k/a tokay-pinot gris) is a much friendlier wine, with grapefruit and pear notes and, occasionally, the suggestion of mild sweetness (usually an illusion, but not always). It also possesses great aging potential, and will make you forget every bland Italian pinot grigio (it's the same grape) you've ever had. Pinot blanc (pinot bianco in Italy) is Alsace's "light" wine, perfect as an apéritif, with a mild lemon-apple taste. Muscat is the floral courtesan it is elsewhere in France (where it produces sugary dessert concoctions), but Alsatian versions are uniquely dry, and are just incredible with light fish dishes. Pinot blanc and muscat should generally be consumed young. And then there's gewurztraminer, which produces highly individualistic wines with hedonistic layers of exotic fruit and unidentifiable spices, frequently low enough in acidity that it seems sweet. Gewurztraminer sharply divides opinions; many people can't stand its overwhelming spiciness and intense, "oily" flavor. Those who love it appreciate its unique character as an alternative to, well, just about anything. With age, it becomes spicier, more strongly flavored, and even less appealing to nondevotees.

The generally strong acidity of Alsatian wines (gewurztraminer and some pinot gris excepted) makes them the most versatile white food wines on the planet; they stand alone in their ability to pair with moderately spicy foods from China, Thailand, and India. (For highly spiced foods, try a slightly sweet German white or stick to beer.) Gewurztraminer even crosses the color barrier, matching well with a fairly wide range of smoked and spicy red meats.

Alsace also produces a delicious (and inexpensive) sparkling wine called Crémant d'Alsace, and a thin, tart red wine (made from pinot noir) for which I've never developed a taste.

When buying Alsatian wine, keep in mind that any mention of a specific vineyard on the label is generally a positive sign. Look also for special cuvées (usually followed by a name, as with Domaine Weinbach Riesling Cuvée Theo), the word clos (which indicates a solely owned vineyard of very high quality, like Domaine Zind-Humbrecht Pinot Gris Clos Windsbuhl Hunawihr), and the word réserve, which is far less abused in Alsace than it is in the rest of the world.

One last piece of good news: very little bad, or even mediocre, Alsatian wine makes it to the US, so feel free to sample your retailer's racks with abandon. That said, don't expect a basic wine (like the yellow-label Trimbach Riesling, about $16) to deliver the same knockout punch as a more elite bottling (like the Trimbach Riesling Cuvée Frédéric Émile, at about $28, or the otherworldly Trimbach Riesling Clos Ste-Hune, Alsace's greatest dry wine, which runs from $60 to $85 if you can find it).

Rather than tasting notes, I'll leave you with a short list of producers worth looking for: Adam, Albrecht, Becker, Beyer, Blanck, Bott-Geyl, Burn, Deiss, Dopff & Irion, Dopff Au Moulin, Hugel (their "Gentil" blend is a particularly good value, but other basic cuvées can sometimes be lacking), Koehly, Kuentz-Bas, Lorentz, Mann, Meyer, Mittnacht-Klack, Muré, Ostertag, Schleret, Schlumberger, Schoffit, Sipp, Sparr, Trimbach, Weinbach, Willm, and Zind-Humbrecht.

Basic bottlings from these producers will cost between $8 and $20; better examples range from $15 to $45; and outstanding wines meant for long aging can be had for as little as $25 and as much as $200, for a few Sélection des Grains Nobles wines from Zind-Humbrecht. Contrast that with white Burgundy, where you can count the number of truly great $25 wines on one hand.

Thor Iverson can be reached at wine[a]phx.com.