It's a question I get at least once a week. In various forms, of course, and some more polite than others. My favorite? "What tribe are you from?", which came from a random South Beach-ish flamer at the Dog park the other afternoon. But hey, I get it. Even for New York, I look a bit strange. And in the end I know that part of my allure is that people just can't place me with a single look. Greek? No. Moroccan? No. Israeli, then? Bitch, please...I have a Mexican father and an English mother. And yes, I know, you never would have guessed.
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And what, pray tell, does all this have to do with wine? Well, maybe it's a bias that's genetically pre-determined, but I've always been a sucker for an ethnically ambiguous wine. That first blind sip that leaves you wondering: Italian? French? German? I just can't tell which! Of course, most of these wines come from a wine region in one country that directly borders another. Cultural proximity exerts a powerful kind of gravity on language, on custom, and particularly on wine. Others come from islands which, by there very nature, are aloof from mainland influence and open to the ideas which wash up on their shores from neighboring cultures. Still others, are the simple result of ex-pats taking up shop in a new land - whether because of war, religious persecution or an unquenchable taste for adventure. But regardless of origin, drinking ethnically ambiguous wine inevitably leads to a unique, engaging and fascinating experience that won't soon be forgotten. Just like me.
Some favorites border regions known for their ethnically ambiguous wines:
Alsace (France): This fertile little region's strategic importance has resulted in its hostile annexation by either France or Germany no less than five times in this century alone. While it currently resides under the French flag, you might not guess it between the German architecture, German-ish dialect, and distinctly German wine making influence. Riesling and Gewurztraminer are the region's number one grapes and while Pinot Gris and Pinot Blanc are often planted right along side them, what style of wine you'll find when they get inside the bottle is anyone's guess. Yet Germanic-lly austere, French-ly sensual, or somewhere in between, the wines are almost always a treat for the lover of interesting whites. Zind-Humbreht is one of the top dogs but Trimbach is more commonly stocked in wine shops and provides a fantastic introduction to the Alsatian novice.
Jura (France): This is one of those regions that when trying to explain to the uninitiated I hardly know where to begin. With geographic proximity to Switzerland, Italy and the French wine making region of Burgundy the reds produced here come in a beguiling gamut of styles but the region's most famous white wine - Vin Jaune - is know for it's similarities Spanish sherry. Talk about ethnically ambiguous! You could spend a lifetime figuring our Jura but the wines of Jacques Puffeney from the sub-region of Arbois are a great place to start.
Vallee d'Aosta (Italy):
Jutting off the Western border of Italy like an ear (or maybe the
knotted bulge of a shoelace if you want to maintain the classic boot
comparison) this semi-mountainous wine region is Italy's smallest both
in terms of size and production. But don't let that fool you. With wine
makers using everything from the Burgundies famous Pinot Noir to the
Piedmont's famous Nebbiolo to an indigenous charmer called Fumin
(possibly related to Syrah), Valle d'Aosta wine-making is sure to keep
you guessing. Grosjean Fumin is a personal favorite: Rich and meaty as
a Rhone, but with an undeniably Italian undercurrent of acidity and
Mediterranean spice.
Some favorite islands known for their ethnically ambiguous wines:
Sardinia (Italy): Like Valle d'Aoste, Sardinia gets a healthy dose of French wine-making influence (specifically from its Northern neighbor Corsica - another great place for unusual wines), however with heavy Spanish and North African influence added to the mix this island is responsible for some of the most distinct and diversely flavored wines the Mediterranean has to offer. In terms of unusual grapes, Sardinia's Cannanou (related to Spanish Garnacha) is a magnificent one to discover - Argiolas is but one of many fine producers.
Long Island (New York): What better place to look for ethnically ambiguous wine than on an island that juts off the world's largest melting party - New York City. Yes, while even many New Yorkers don't realize that they are a mere train ride away from one of North America's most interesting wine regions, to me Long Island is the hidden jewel of American wine making. From Chinon style Cabernet Franc made alongside Alsatian transplanted Pinot Blanc (Lieb Family Cellars) to Italian's vintifying Burgundian influenced Pinot Noir (Castello di Borghese) Long Island provides a true wealth of tasty confusion.
Some favorite ex-pat made ethnically ambiguous wines:
Damn Cheap: Domaine Monte de Luz Tannat (Uraguay): While there is certainly better Uruguayan Tannat on the market, you just can't beat the under $10 price tag on this one. Made by a true native of Frances' Madiran (where Tannat originally hails) but with definite New World influence.
Not Particularly Cheap: Vinoptima "Ormond" Gewurztraminer (Gisborne, NZ): Second generation Croatian Nick Nobilo makes a lychee drenched Alsatian-style take on the German Gewurztraminer in the middle of New Zealand. And yes, those of you who follow me, I am obsessed with this wine.
Right Out Pricey: Mount Mary "Quintet" (Yarra Valley, AUS): Ok, so Dr. Middleton doesn't exactly qualify as an ex-pat, but then if your white and from Australia...well you get the idea. Anyways, I never can quite figure out this wine, but in a definite good way. Made in one of Australia's cooler wine regions, at first sip this Bordeaux-style blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec, and Petit Verdot tastes like it could be straight out of Pommerol. Yet, behind it there is something unusual, an untameable wild streak that distinguishes the wine as...well...ambiguous.
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