Whenever I speak to wine professionals – whether they’re somms, buyers, winemakers, journalists or marketers – an unusually high proportion will inevitably namecheck Riesling as one of their go-to grapes.
This – anecdotally, at least – seems to contrast strongly with a regular (non-trade) wine drinker’s taste; none of my family or my non-wine friends, for instance, would ever dream of sipping a glass of Riesling unless it was forced on them (say, by me…). The grape doesn’t seem to feature particularly heavily on the shelves either, at least here in the UK.
Over the years I’ve developed this theory about why Riesling is so adored and so under-hyped in equal measure, and it revolves around the grape’s terroiriness on one hand – a high barrier to entry – and its legacy reputational damage on the other hand.
It makes sense that the difficult-to-love high acid and crisp, limey fruit profile, along with a variety of sweetness levels depending on style, would appeal more to the drinker looking for challenging, complex wines rather than someone just looking for a Thursday night bottle of white wine below £10 (nothing wrong with that, of course).
And it also makes sense that those of a certain age will still recall the terribly sweet and cheap German whites hitting our shores with a shiver.
And, interestingly, I think it’s the same for the Negroni. A delicious (IMO) and highly regarded, but again rather challenging concoction of equal parts Campari, gin and vermouth. It offers layers of flavour complexity when well made but is perhaps too far on the bitter spectrum to appeal to those looking for more of an easy sipper.
What binds these two drinks together? Cut. Both drinks are fantastic palate cleansers; Riesling with its innately high acid, and the Negroni with its striking bitterness.
Both drinks trade on exactly what you see: there’s no oak, no artificial flavourings to hide any rough edges. They both rely on high quality ingredients (I’ve had enough Negronis made using subpar, oxidised vermouth and spirity, entry-level gin to attest to that) to carry their respective stories – and often, it’s only the connoisseur who has time to listen.
