LL seared a fillet of salmon, just with salt, pepper and lemon juice, and braised baby bok choy with garlic and, um, other stuff, while I made sweet potato oven-fries dusted with cumin and chili powder. A simple and delicious dinner.

I opened a truly lovely German wine from the Nahe region, the Kruger-Rumpf Münsterer Rheinberg Riesling Kabinett 2008.

Nahe borders the western reach of upper Rheingau; to the northwest, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer extends down along the Mosel river. The wines of Nahe are often described as being amalgams of Mosel and Rheingau, and perhaps the geography of Germany’s wine country, with Nahe between Mosel and Rheingau, explains that notion. The best vineyards of Nahe cluster along the banks of the Nahe river, in the region’s central eastern side; the principal towns are Bad Kreuznach and Bad Münster, the prefix “Bad” indicating the presence of health-giving spas and resorts. (A münster is a monastary.)

The estate of Kruger-Rumpf, regarded as an up-and-coming producer, is farther downstream (north), at Münster Sarmsheim, not far from where the Nahe runs into the Rhine at the town of Bingen. Münsterer Rheinberg Kabinett is the estate’s basic wine, but that status does not imply inferiority. Kruger-Rumpf Münsterer Rheinberg Riesling Kabinett 2008 is ethereal and exquisitely expressive of the riesling grape; a touch of spritz makes the wine light and balletic. Delicate aromas of pear and peach with hints of yellow plum and honeysuckle are borne on an evanescent tide of slightly earthy limestone. Citrus flavors unfold to reveal a suggestion of creamy Lady apples, briefly baked. The wine flirts with sweetness on the entry, but from mid-palate back, it’s bone-crisp, bone-chalky, bone-dry, yet ripely, gracefully succulent. What a sweetheart! Alcohol is 8.5 percent. Drink now through 2012 (well-stored). Excellent. About $22 to $25.

Imported by Michael Skurnik Wines, Syosset, N.Y. A sample for review, from a trade group.

There’s no need to dilate upon the extraordinary career of Manhattan chef and (now) entrepreneur David Chang, so this recapitulation will be brief. Chang is Korean American, and his culinary stomping ground is the East Village. First, in 2003, came Momofuku Noodle Bar, then, in 2006, Momofuku Ssãm Bar and then, in 2008, Momokufu Ko, which propelled Chang into the heady glare of celebrity, multiple awards and two Michelin stars. Adjacent to Ssãm is now Momofuku Bakery and Milk Bar, and in April, Chang made a move into Midtown Manhattan and opened the French-Vietnamese restaurant Má Pêche in the Chambers Hotel; chef is Tien Ho.

Much of this brilliant career is related with verve, considerable drama, good humor and surprising modesty by Chang and Peter Meehan in Momofuku (Clarkson Potter, $40), a cookbook and autobiography written as closely as possible in the chef’s own salty language. It’s a tale of fits and starts, of experimentation, insane goofiness, failure, lots of beer and incredible success. The recipes fall into the order of the successive restaurants, Noodle, Ssãm and Ko. The Asian influence is profound, but more pronounced is the willingness of Chang and his various chefs to work New World variations on Asian themes, such as making the traditional Japanese dashi soup stock with bacon or to serve Brussels sprouts with a fish sauce vinaigrette.

I have not eaten at Noodle or Ko, which has only 12 seats, but I have dined at Ssãm four times: twice on consecutive nights in March 2007, again with LL in September 2007 and in May 2009. Every dish is a revelation of strangely complementary flavors and textures, but there’s nothing weird or excessively (that is, phony) witty about the food.

I was excited to get a copy (not free) of the cookbook, and of course I wanted to make something from it, but ingredients are sometimes exotic, and while many dishes seem entirely simple, others require several prep and cooking steps before the dish is finally put together. After reading the book several times and poring over the recipes obsessively, I settled on a dish from Ko, the Roasted New Jersey Diver Scallop, Kohlrabi Puree and Iwa Nori, part of the multi-course dinner from the original menu at Ko. These are the elements of the dish: 1. the scallop (I used two for each of us since this was our main dinner course); 2. kohlrabi puree; 3. pickled chanterelles; 4. finely julienne scallion; 5. bacon dashi; 6. iwa nori, or unpressed nori, the kind of seaweed (when compressed) that sushi rolls are made from.

First, I couldn’t find kohlrabi, so I emailed Peter Meehan and asked if fennel would work as a substitute; he said that fennel would be fine. Then last week, at the Memphis Farmers Market, several vendors had kohlrabi, so that was taken care of. The bacon dashi called for konbu, another form of pressed seaweed. Whole Foods stocks konbu but not iwa nori, used as a garnish on the dish, so I substituted the dried seaweed wakame, which looked very pretty on the plate as well as providing a welcome bit of crunch. Nor could I find chanterelles, so I substituted shiitakes. (Mea culpa, chef!)

Last Sunday morning, I made the bacon dashi, the kohlrabi puree and the pickled mushrooms and put them in the fridge. No food processor used here; the kohlrabi puree is made the old-fashioned way, simmering chunks of kohlrabi until they’re soft, mashing them with a hand masher and forcing the mash through a fine sieve with the back of a wooden spoon. That night, it was just a matter of slicing a scallion “incredibly fine,” as the instructions say, and soaking the strips in cold water, where they curl around very nicely, and gently warming the dashi and the puree. From that point, things happen quickly. I had the plates ready and warmed. I salt-and-peppered the large sea scallops and seared them in grapeseed oil and after about 90 seconds, added butter to the pan and when it had melted used a spoon to scoop the butter over the scallops. This all takes about three and a half minutes, tops.

The assembly is: A smear of kohlrabi puree and then the scallops on top of that, in a wide, shallow bowl; the slices of pickled mushrooms, the tendrils of scallions, artlessly arranged; a scattering of wakame; a few spoonfuls of bacon dashi ladled into the bowl; sea salt. The result is captured in the image above. I was, frankly, damned proud of myself; the dish looked beautiful and tasted fabulous, with layers of contrasting and complementary textures and flavors that were playful and satisfying. Particularly important were the smoky bacon dashi and the briny pickled mushrooms and the manner in which they infiltrated the rich succulent sweetness of the scallops and the smooth, sapid earthiness of the kohlrabi puree.

For wine, I opened the pale straw-blond Plantagenet Riesling 2008, from Western Australia’s cool Great Southern region. Founded in 1968, Plantagenet was the first winery in Great Southern.

A few sips taken while I was cooking were quintessentially lively with scintillating limestone and actually puckery with animated acidity. The dish gently moderated the wine’s aggressive stance and emphasized the camellia-jasmine floral elements and scents and flavors of lemon and pear delicately touched with notes of lemon-grass, lime peel, ginger and quince. This is a riesling of lovely purity and intensity whose pert cool crisp character is enveloped in a seductive texture of talc-like softness. The alcohol content is a comfortable 11.7 percent. I’ll drink to that! Drink now through 2015 to ’18 (well-stored). Excellent. About $20, representing Great Value.

Imported by Old Bridge Cellars, Napa, Cal. A sample for review.

Joan Didion was once asked to lecture on the topic “Why I Write.” Her response was something like, “Look at the vowels in those three words: I, I, I.” In other words, writing is all about me, myself and I, and writing on a blog is the same deal. Wait! No! Those are the other blogs! This blog is all about you, you, you, my readers! Just so, the title of this post, “Nine White Wines,” encloses those “I, I, I” implications, but is really about wine choices for you, though today I limit those choices somewhat by excluding wines made from the chardonnay grape. I’ve tried some pretty good ones recently but also some chardonnays that were sodden with oak, so that grape will get separate posts in a week or so, “a week or so” being such a comfortingly elastic expression of futurity. (I’ve never seen this photograph of Joan Didion before, from 1970; wow, what a dish! And one of my favorite writers and heroes for her courage, her unflinching gaze, her slashing prose! I’m on a project now of reading or re-reading all her books.)

Anyway, Nine White Wines (and a bonus at the end).
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Made all in stainless steel, the Dry Creek Vineyard Chenin Blanc 2008, Wilson Ranch, Clarksburg — in the Sacramento Delta region of Northern California — opens with whiffs of lemon balm and dried thyme, with tangerine and a hint of orange zest. This is an incredibly fresh and refreshing wine whose crisp acidity whets the palate and lays the groundwork for juicy citrus flavors touched with a bit of mango; lightness and delicacy are wedded to a moderately lush texture. The finish rounds out the wine with some lime peel and bracing grapefruit bitterness. The alcohol is a soothing 12.5 percent. Always a favorite for summer quaffing with grilled shrimp, seafood risotto or linguine with clam sauce. Closed (for the first time) with a screw-cap. Very Good. About $12, representing Great Value.
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The torrontés grape makes charming and delightful wines but not great wines, and that’s nothing for it to worry its pretty little head about; how happy we are, for example, to meet a person who is consistently charming, delightful and undemanding. Sort of like me. The Trivento Amado Sur Torrontés 2009, Mendoza, Argentina, however, blends 15 percent viognier grapes and 10 percent chardonnay with 75 percent torrontés. What, I thought, is this an attempt to pump up the virtues of a simple grape and turn it into something “important,” a “Super Torrontés,” as it were? The fact is, this is a terrifically appealing wine that offers scents of ripe peach, pear and quince with meadowy undertones and a whiff of camellia. It’s very dry, very crisp and mounts a limestone element so piercing that it’s almost poignant. Give the wine a few minutes and it becomes slightly honeyed (but not sweet), with notes of candied grapefruit and ginger, but there’s always that crystalline acidity and austere minerality to leaven the sensuousness; the finish brings in the forthright bitterness of grapefruit and lime peel. So, I suppose this is a kind of Super Torrontés and no worse for the bolstering. Very Good+. About $15, Good Value.

Imported by Excelsior Wine & Spirits, a division of Banfi Vintners, Old Brookville, N.Y. Trivento — “three winds” — is the Argentine outpost of Chile’s giant wine producer Concha y Toro.
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Bold in stone fruit, the Adegas D’Altamira Albariño Brandal 2008, from Spain’s northwestern region of Rias Baixas in Galicia, takes yellow plum and peach and blends them with dried thyme, sage and white pepper for a striking bouquet; in a few minutes you’ll notice touches of orange zest and lime peel, grass and hay. The texture is amazing, so plush that it feels talc-like yet cut with riveting acidity and a scintillating limestone quality. Flavors are more melon and pear than stone fruit, with hints of cloves and ginger, the whole package being dry, zesty and savory. The wine is made all in stainless steel and does not go through the malolactic process, so it retains buoyant freshness and concentration. I can hear it now, on its knees, begging, “Please, please, please, serve me with oysters right out of the sea!” Or mussels grilled with rosemary would be good too. 12.5 percent alcohol. Drink now through 2012. Excellent. About $18.

Imported by Quintessential, Napa, Ca.
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Winter’s Hill farm was established in 1961 by the Gladhart family in what is now Oregon’s Dundee Hills appellation within the Willamette Valley. Dundee Hills is where David Lett, Dick Erath and the Sokol Blosser family started their pioneering wineries in the 1960s and early ’70s, staking a claim for pinot noir. The Gladharts planted their first vines in 1990. The winemaker now is Delphine Gladhart, a Frenchwoman married to Russell Gladhart.

The Winter’s Hill Pinot Blanc 2007, Dundee Hills, delivers wonderful tone and presence while maintaining a fleetness and delicacy of effect that’s exhilarating. Mildly spicy pear and lemon scents segue into spicier flavors of pear, roasted lemon and melon, with a touch of almond skin. The balance and restraint here, the equilibrium and sense of elegance allied to a feeling of slightly repressed depth, are not only admirable but irresistible. So many wines could profit from this sort of decorum that never feels fastidious. Production was 840 cases, so mark this Worth a Search. The alcohol level is 14 percent. Excellent. About $18.
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The Guado al Tasso Vermentino 2008, from Antinori’s winery in Bolgheri, in southwestern Tuscany, is a sort of seaside wine; one feels the briskness and breeziness of the sea-wind, the snap of salt and crusted oyster shells. There’s the slight fragrant astringency of rosemary crushed in the hand, the richness of roasted lemon and lemon balm, a subtle note of honeysuckle and jasmine. Adding to the freshness are tingling acidity, a touch of spritz –this is all stainless steel — and heaping elements of damp limestone. So this is delightful and charming, but not simpleminded; there are serious bones here, the structure of elegance, an evocative whisper of Olympian distance in the austere finish. 13 percent alcohol. We drank this with roasted salmon with a potato and artichoke hash. Excellent. About $25.

Imported by Ste. Michelle Wine Estates, Woodinville, Washington.

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Yes, you’re reading this correctly: Pinot blanc grapes — a mutation of genetically unstable pinot noir — do grow in Burgundy, though they are found rarely in vineyards and even more rarely bottled as a single wine. (They thrive in cooler Alsace.) The venerable Domaine Henri Gouges, however, employs pinot blanc for its Bourgogne, and for 2007 produced a delightful example. Did I say “delightful”? Actually, the Domaine Henri Gouges Bourgogne Blanc Pinot Blanc 2007 is one of the prettiest wines I have tasted in dog’s years. This is wonderfully fresh, clean and pure, with notes of jasmine and chalk, macerated lemons and lemon curd with a touch of spiced pear and quince. Avid acidity flashes like a bright blade — man, I just freakin’ love alliteration! — enlivening a texture that inextricably weds crispness to slightly cushiony lushness. If this didn’t fall a tad short on the finish, it would be well-nigh perfect, though it’s still well-worth seeking out. Very Good+. About $26 to $32.

Imported by Vineyard Brands, Birmingham, Ala.

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Here’s what hard work and perseverance (and maybe being in the right place at the right time) will do for you. Damian Parker, director of winemaking for Joseph Phelps Vineyard, came to the winery in 1981 as bottle-line supervisor. Ashley Hepworth came to Joseph Phelps in 1999 to work the crush, after two years in the kitchen at Charlie Trotter, and in 2008 was promoted to winemaker. America is a great country after all!

Whatever the combination of knowledge and experience Parker and Hepworth represent, they got the Joseph Phelps Sauvignon Blanc 2008, St. Helena, Napa Valley, exactly right. While there’s nothing wrong (or not much) with the larky, snappy, blastingly citric and tropical sauvignon blancs that flood the market today, it’s nice to sip a sauvignon blanc fit for grown-ups. First, all things lemon are here, from roasted lemon to lemon balm and lemon curd, with an infusion of dried thyme and tarragon and a hint of dusty summer meadows. The wine is quite lively, sporting a keen edge of damp limestone and a tingling line of crisp acidity. The oak is subtle and supple, the result of eight months in new French oak puncheons — generally defined as holding 500 liters — and one- and two-year old French barriques, holding 225 liters or 59 gallons; in other words, the winemakers consciously decided to forgo the influence of new barriques for a more nuanced approach. What can I say? This is a sauvignon blanc of immense presence and authority that doesn’t neglect the elements of elegance and grace. Drink now through 2012 or ’13. The alcohol content is a sensible 13.5 percent. Exceptional. About $32.
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The Grosset Polish Hill Riesling 2008, Clare Valley, South Australia, delivers exactly what you want from a Clare Valley riesling: a classic bouquet of lychees and peaches, lime peel and petrol (or rubber eraser) and penetrating aromas of gunflint and damp shale. If you could drink such a bouquet you could stop there, but move along, please, to flavors of orange zest, grapefruit and mango ensconced in a very dry, very crisp and spare structure that makes it feel as if you’re drinking liquid limestone that dates back to the Ice Age it’s so pure and immediate, and yet, paradoxically, here comes a gentle whiff of rose petal and lilac. The finish, not surprisingly, is elegantly-wrought, all high cheek-bones and unblemished foreheads, very cool, pale, princesse lointaine, complete. The whole effect is beguiling and seductive, and I wish I had a glass sitting right here beside me (though I’m having a fine old time with this quaffable Domaine “La Garrigue” Cuvee Romaine Côte du Rhône 2008 that I’m sipping rather too much of at the present moment). Drink now through 2014 or ’15. Screw-cap closed. Exceptional. About $38.

Imported by USA Wine West, Sausalito, Cal., for The Australian Premium Wine Collection.
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What you need to know about the St. Urbans-Hof Piesporter Goldtropfchen Riesling Auslese 2007, Mosel-Saar-Ruwer, is, first (working backward), that it’s from Germany’s Mosel region; second, that it derives from the excellent and even better year of 2007; that’s the ripeness level of Auslese is pretty damn ripe and potentially sweet; that the grape is riesling; that the vineyard is the well-known, even legendary Goldtropfchen; that the commune wherein the vineyard resides is the equally well-known Piesport; and that the producer is St. Urbans-Hof. Got that? And they say that German wine labels are too complicated!

The color is shimmering pale gold; aromas of softly spiced and macerated peaches and pears are permeated by lime peel and cloves and by subtle earthiness, clean and damp, and pert slate-like minerality. The acidity is so tremendous that the wine practically vibrates in the glass, yet the faint sweetness, a subtle sense of honeyed and baked stone fruit, like brioche with peach and plum marmalade, cuts the acid down to layers of etched limestone. This is vital, resonant and lively, though the finish comes through with an aura of stately balance and integration. We drank this with roasted salmon accompanied by roasted potato salad in a cilantro/jalapeño vinaigrette. Yay, LL! Now through 2017 or ’20, well-stored. Excellent. About $55.
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Yer Bonus: Two sparkling wines from Vouvray, Loire Valley, meaning chenin blanc grapes. Each made in the traditional champagne method of second fermentation in the bottle.

The Francois Pinon Vouvray Brut (non-vintage) is all steel, limestone and shale, roasted lemons, quince and ginger; the color is pale straw/gold, the myriad tiny bubbles as uncountable as the galaxies in the heavens. Very clean and fresh and crisp, with touches of biscuits, baking spices and toasted almonds, with a faint whiff of almond blossom. We drank this while cooking dinner one night and snacking on flatbread slathered with dried tomato and walnut pesto. Charming and delectable. Very Good+, and a Bargain at about $17.

Imported by Louis/Dressner, New York.
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Maison Huet — “oo-ay” — has been among the best producers of dry, semi-sweet and late-harvest Vouvray wines since it was founded in 1928. You will notice that the Domaine Huet Brut 2002, Vouvray Petillant, is seven and a half years old, and at this point it is drinking to perfection. Pop the cork — I mean open it properly and gently — and you smell the fresh bread, biscuits and granite from a foot away. The color is medium gold; the “bead” is gently effusive — petillant implies lightly sparkling — and mildly effervescent. This sparkling wine, which ages four years in the bottle on the yeast, evinces the straw/hay quality of the chenin blanc grape but offers, also, touches of buttered toast, cinnamon bread and a hint of roasted hazelnuts and macerated lemons and pears preserved with cloves. I hope readers get the idea that the Huet Brut 2002 is not just “a reasonable alternative” to Champagne but a fine expression of a grape and a style of sparkling wine in itself. It should be consumed within a year or 18 months. Excellent. About $30 to $35.

Imported by Robert Chadderdon Selections, New York.
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Samples for review, except for the Domaine Henri Gouges Bourgogne Pinot Blanc 2007, tasted at a trade event in New York. Photo of Joan Didion, Hollywood, 1970, by Julian Wesser, Time Life Pictures/Getty Images. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________

As I mentioned recently, LL works on Tuesday nights during the Spring semester, and I try to have dinner ready for her when she arrives at our door about 9 p.m. Last Tuesday, I chopped or sliced a beet, a parsnip, a red onion, a sweet potato, a carrot and a hunk of knobbly celery root, doused them with olive oil, salt and pepper and roasted them at 425 degrees for about 45 minutes. I got the idea from the March Food & Wine magazine; the intention in the recipe is to make a salad. Instead, I cooked some wholewheat fuselli, tossed it with the roasted vegetables, shaved feta cheese and a dollop of a thyme-mustard vinaigrette I had on hand, and, Voila! a really delicious and healthy pasta dish. I didn’t take a picture because I thought the thing was going to be unphotogenic, but actually the roasted vegetables looked like little glowing jewels nestled amongst the corkscrew-shaped pasta.

I opened a bottle of the Craggy Range Fletcher Family Vineyard Riesling 2009, from New Zealand’s Marlborough region, and was glad that I did. Made completely in stainless steel, this riesling is dry, crisp and juicy, a bundle of lime, roasted lemon and spiced peach twined with the requisite pungency of petrol/rubber eraser. A reticent touch of pear and lanolin (and a hint of jasmine) lend sleekness and suavity, while a seductive texture neatly balances keen acidity with moderate lushness. An intense tide of limestone rises from the finish, moving forward as the moments pass and preparing the palate for a final squinge of bracing bitterness, like the tang of grapefruit skin. A very attractive and tasty riesling, yet with a strain of seriousness. Excellent. About $22.

The wine served as a refreshing complement to the sweetness and earthiness of the roasted root vegetable pasta.

The next night, following the trail of The New York Times food section from that morning, LL prepared fillets of cod — the recipe called for halibut, but the stores I tried had none — topped with rosemary, black olives and thin slices of lemon and roasted in the oven. For all its simplicity, this was a terrific dish, deeply tinged with the Mediterranean spirit of freshness and savory, herbal qualities. Those thin slices of lemon were browned and crisped by the oven and brought a touch of citric nerviness to the dish, all of whose elements worked together in fine style. We’ll cook this one often.

The Craggy Range Fletcher Family Riesling ’09, closed with a screw-cap, was still in the refrigerator, so I brought it out and tried it with the cod. This was an even better match than with the roasted root vegetable pasta. Something about the combination of the dusty herbal quality of the rosemary married with the lemon and the earthiness of the black olives brought out both the juiciness and the mineral structure of the wine. It also acted as a foil to the slight bitterness of the sauteed broccoli rabe on the plate.

Imported by Kobrand Corp., Purchase, N.Y. A review sample.

We were having swordfish, a great fish to cook at home because it’s so easy, and LL made a smoked tomato sauce to go with it. With swordfish, the requirement is to cook it carefully and briefly, so it doesn’t dry out. You douse it with salt, pepper and lemon juice before searing or get a bit fancier and marinate it in lime juice, minced fresh ginger and garlic and a bit of soy sauce and white wine (or mirin). The point is to sear it on each side for a couple of minutes, so it’s a little crusty on the outside and just beyond rare at the center.

For the smoked tomato sauce, you start by lining a heavy pot with a double layer of heavy-duty aluminum foil. Make sure that the lid still fits on the pot tightly. Drop a handful of wood grilling chips, like mesquite or hickory or grapevines, on the bottom of the pot and set a grid of some kind over them, (to hold the tomatoes), put the lid on and turn the burner to high. Let those wood chips start smoking and then put quartered Roma tomatoes on the grid and replace the lid on the pot. When the tomatoes are nicely smoked, put them in a food processor with some olive oil and puree until smooth. Voila! Smoked tomato sauce. It’s pretty damned heady and flavorful, and it made a great accompaniment to the swordfish. On the plate here is also a medley of braised broccoli, turnips and roasted red peppers.

A couple of nights later, we used the smoked tomato sauce on meat loaf, which pepped up the flavor, and that weekend, for the Pizza-and-Movie-Night pizza, I used what was left of the smoked tomato sauce as the base for the pizza ingredients, which included slices of fresh tomatoes and a julienne of dried tomatoes, as well as marinated mushrooms, black olives and chopped salami. Yep, it was one of the good ones.

With all of these meals, we drank wines from V. Sattui Winery, a Napa Valley institution that sells its products only at the tasting room south of St. Helena or by mail order through the winery’s website. The company was founded in San Francisco in 1885 by the merchant Vittorio Sattui; 90 years later, Vittorio’s great-grandson Dario re-established the business at its present site, conceiving the unique idea of not selling the wines to wholesalers or restaurants. V. Sattui makes about 40,000 cases of wine annually, comprising 45 different wines. The company owns 230 acres, mainly in the Napa Valley, and also sources grapes from vineyards in Napa, Sonoma, Amador, Lodi and Mendocino counties. Winemaker is Brooks Painter. You can’t miss V. Sattui from Highway 29. It’s an extensive Italianate compound with winery, tasting facilities, picnic grounds and a store that sells all sorts of ready-to-eat foods as well as more than 200 cheeses.

With the swordfish, we tried the V. Sattui White Riesling 2008, Anderson Valley, Mendocino County. Made all in stainless steel, this exhilarating riesling offers a touch of sweetness on the entry, but that factor is easily balanced with crisp acidity and a prominent limestone element. Aromas of green apple and spiced pear are woven with hints of honeysuckle and roasted lemon, while in the mouth, a texture poised between the spareness of acid and minerality and the slight lushness of ripe peach and pear flavors is highly pleasing. The wine finishes with a touch of grapefruit austerity. 607 cases produced. Excellent. About $24.

With the meat loaf, we drank the V. Sattui Preston Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon 2006, Napa Valley, which blends a dollop of Carneros merlot with the cabernet from a well-known Rutherford vineyard. This is a terrific old-fashioned Napa cabernet, sinewy and muscular but bursting with black currant and black cherry flavors and hints of cedar, bell pepper, tobacco and baking spices. It’s actually pretty sleek, with polished oak and smooth tannins providing framework and a little resistance — you feel that slight gravity of the tannins — but no interference to the fruit. Balance and integration are everything here, with each element eloquently making its case. 2,934 cases produced. Excellent. About $45.

Finally, well-matched with the pizza, was the V. Sattui Crow Ridge Zinfandel 2007, Russian River Valley, Sonoma County. The 94-year-old vines include, as is typical of Sonoma County zinfandel vineyards planted a century or more ago, a field blend of other varieties, including carignane, petite sirah and alicante bouschet, each represented here by a smidgeon. Again, this is a gratifyingly old-fashioned zinfandel in which the blackberry, black currant and plum flavors are twined with notes of black pepper, briers and brambles. It’s profoundly earthy and layered with granite-like mineral elements, yet, as with the Preston Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon 2006, this Crow Ridge Zinfandel 2007 embodies an innate sense of balance among fruit and essential acidity, tannin and wood — 15 percent new American oak, 20 percent new French oak and the rest used barrels up to five years old. The alcohol level is 15 percent, but there’s nothing hot or overbearing or over-ripe about this wine. It’s a little shaggy, a little foresty, completely authentic and mainly delicious. 702 cases. Excellent. About $33.

Samples for review; further blandishments included small samples of three cheeses to pair with the wines.

Yesterday was the first meteorological day of winter, but that season debuted officially at our house two nights ago with the first ritual preparation of the cod and chorizo stew, with leeks and potatoes, that LL and I dote on. I have written about this delicious, body-filling and soul-satisfying dish before, so I won’t go into detail about it, but I do want to mention, of course, the superb wine we drank with it so successfully (and the wine’s cousins).

This was the Frankland Estate Poison Hill Vineyard Riesling 2008, from the Frankland River region of Western Australia. The estate produces three single-vineyard rieslings, as well as a sort of cadet version under the Rocky Gully label, all finished with screw-caps.
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The Frankland Poison Hill Riesling 2008 delivers incredible purity and intensity; this is a purposeful and confident riesling, shimmering, vibrant and concentrated in dimension and detail. Piercing limestone and damp shale qualities support classic notes of diesel fuel (call it rubber eraser if that makes you feel better), pear and peach with spiced apple and ginger. Hints of jasmine and honeysuckle seem to draw from the Platonic essence of those blossoms, so the effect is more earthy than overtly floral. This is a case when the accumulation of different sorts of delicacy meld into the balance between power and elegance; while there’s a sense that what you’re drinking is transparent and ethereal, you never forget this riesling’s strong connection to the soil. Rattling in its dryness, startling in its crystalline acidity, the Frankland Poison Hill 2008 finishes with marked austerity, high-toned and a little glacial, yet packed with citrus and spice. Drink now through 2013 or ’14. Exceptional. About $28.
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The Frankland Estate Cooladerra Vineyard Riesling 2008, Frankland River region, feels even more serious than the Poison Hill ’08 rendition. This riesling is substantial, generous and expansive, while still tiptoeing an edgy line of blade-like acidity; there’s a risk in seeking this kind of precise balance between tension and resolution in a riesling, but the scheme works here. And for all its grand airs, the Cooladerra ’08 offers delightful elements of peach and lychee, lime and gravel, wrapped in an elixir of petrol and lilac. Drink now through 2013 or ’14. Excellent. About $28.
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Last of this trio is the Frankland Estate Isolation Ridge Riesling 2008, Frankland River Region. You’re greeted by an extraordinary bouquet of petrol and taffy, lychee, candied grapefruit, smoke and bergamot; riesling lovers may dab it behind their ears. After that beguilement, you’re surprised when the wine explodes with unassailable dryness, irrepressible acidity and irreproachable minerality in the crushed gravel, damp shale mode. I mean this wine is so crisp that it feels as if you could break it over your knee and pass out the shards to the poor in spirit, yet if ever a wine carried elegance to the point of severity, this is it. And still — and still — how winsomely it brings up a note of orange rind and another note of cloves, and a hint of quince, and an element so earthy and macerated that the wine is almost savory. What a performance! Drink now through 2014 or ’15. Exceptional. About $28.

Imported by USA Wine West, Sausalito, Cal., for The Australian Premium Wine Collection. These were sample bottles sent to me for review.
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Last week I went to a blind tasting of 14 rieslings from around the world. This was hosted by Great Wine & Spirits, a retail store in Memphis that puts on a tasting almost every Saturday afternoon throughout the year. (Not at the store; Tennessee law forbids tasting wine in a wine store, a policy so stupidly stupid that it’s almost beyond comment.)

Generally these are tastings of assorted wines that fit a season or a genre or a price-point, but during the summer the events are conducted blind and each Saturday focuses on a different grape variety. Attendees at the tastings vote on their favorites, and the winners are featured at the store at discount prices. I don’t make it to all of these events, but considering my encounters with riesling in Germany early in July and the number of rieslings I have been tasting at home, I thought that I shouldn’t miss this one.

The interesting result of this blind tasting was that the top three winners were German wines, including two that were my favorites. People attending the event ranged from a couple, sitting at my table, for whom this was their first wine tasting to another couple, sitting nearby, who casually discussed buying cases of this and that and were clearly experienced tasters and drinkers.

The wines we tasted, in this order (which we didn’t know during the event) were these:

1. Lengs & Cooter Riesling 2007 (Clare Valley, Australia)
2. Domäne Wachau “Wachau” Riesling 2007 (Austria)
3. Firestone Vineyards Riesling 2007 (Central Coast, California)
4. King Estate “Next” Riesling 2007 (Washington State)
5. Bergström “Dr. Bergström” Cuvee Riesling 2007 (Willamette Valley, Oregon)
6. Pierre Sparr Reserve Riesling 2006 (Alsace)
7. Barnard Griffin White Riesling 2007 (Columbia Valley, Washington)
8. Schloss Vollrads Summer Dry QbA 2006 (Rheingau, Germany)
9. S.A. Prüm “Blue Slate” Riesling Kabinett 2006 (Mosel, Germany)
10. Schmitt Söhne “Anything Goes” Riesling QbA 2008 (Mosel, Germany)
11. August Kesseler Riesling QbA 2007 (Rheingau, Germany)
12. Schloss Vollrads Riesling QbA 2007 (Rheingau, Germany)
13. Dr. Loosen “Dr. L” Riesling 2008 (Mosel, Germany)
14. Mönchhof Estate Riesling 2007 (Mosel, Germany)

“QbA” stands for Qualitätswein bestimmter Anbaugebiete, a vast category of German wine whose principle standard is that the wines were made in the stated area of production. Depending on the estate or producer, QbA wines can be quite good, even excellent. The QbA level comes below the highest category of German wines, QmP, or Qualitätswein mit Prädikat.

The winner in this tasting was August Kesseler, followed by a tie between Monchhof Estate and Schmitt Söhne’s Anything Goes.

Here are my brief tasting notes, transcribed from my little blue notebook:
1. Lengs & Cooter, “Lemon-lime, minerals — quite pungent — unfurls with lime, grapefruit and jasmine, really lovely, bristling acid, taut and crisp.” Very Good. About $19.

2. Domäne Wachau, “attractive yet subdued — jasmine, limestone, lime & grapefruit finely ground — whiff of petrol — nicely balanced, some peach & apricot — mouth-filling — solid finish , v. dry with heaps of limestone.” Very Good+. About $16-$19.

3. Firestone, “Green apple — lime — pretty sweet, not much impact, v. taut, tart, crisp.” Good. About $11.

4. King Estate Next, “Quite neutral — no more than pleasant.” A disappointment, because I usually like King Estate’s pinot gris and pinot noir. About $12-$13.

5. Bergström, “Petrol, limestone — apple & apple blossom — a tad sweet — but crisp acid and a taut mineral finish infused with spiced grapefruit.” Quite enjoyable. Very Good+. About $22-$28.

6. Pierre Sparr Reserve, “Pleasant, attractive, quite floral — a little sweet on the entry but immediately goes dry — tart, even pert — doesn’t feel balanced.” Another disappointment. Good+. About $20-$23. (I wrote about the vastly superior — or younger and fresher — ’07 version of this wine here.)

7. Barnard Griffin, “Lime, peach & pear, touch of almond and almond blossom, takes a few minutes for flavors to unfold — peach and pear, tons of limestone, attractive texture.” A well-balanced riesling, not quite compelling. Very Good. About $13.

8. Summer Dry, “Clean, fresh, bright — limestone, pear, melon, lime — hint of petrol, a little earthy — complex range of spice and floral effects — dry, crisp, taut — heaps of shale and limestone, formidably dry finish — quite a wine.” Excellent. About $16, and Great Value.

9. Blue Slate, “Peach, pear and petrol — spiced and honeyed apricot — initial sweetness balanced by bright, clean acidity — penetrating minerality — very attractive.” Very Good+. About $19.

10. Anything Goes, “Generally nicely done –a little sweet — good acid balance, lime, grapefruit & peach w/ a touch of orange peel — tart acid and limestone — enjoyable.” Very Good. About $13. The idea is that anything, as in any food, goes with this wine.

11. August Kesseler. “Real riesling — petrol, lime, lychee, green apple & apple blossom — jasmine — sweet, slightly honeyed entry but v. dry — taut and tart, scintillating acidity and minerality, lovely balance. long finish.” Excellent. About $16, a Fantastic Bargain.

12. Schloss Vollrads. “V. dry, crisp, tart, taut & supple, pure minerality layered under spicy peach, pear and lime peel.” Very Good+. About $17-$21.

13. Dr. Loosen “Dr. L.” “Soft, floral, pretty sweet — simple and direct, dry finish, not much character.” Good+. About $11-$14.

14. Mönchhof Estate. “Earthy & minerally — sweetness extends back through mid-palate — balanced by taut acidity, rollicking spice — lovely texture, both crisp and lush — heaps of limestone — a sense of energy and engagement.” Excellent. About $16-$19 and another Great Value.

I think that the qualities distinguishing the best German examples from the other wines in this roster are what I noted about the Monchhof Estate 2007, a sense not simply of authenticity but of energy and engagement, of fulfilling a purpose and accomplishing what a grape can do. That’s the case, of course, with all expressive wines that compellingly appeal to our sensibilities.

The results of this small tasting should not prejudice My Readers against rieslings made other than in Germany. In California, for example, look for the excellent rieslings of Napa Valley’s Trefethen and Smith-Madrone, or Gainey from Santa Ynez Valley, and from Australia, Mount Horrocks and Tim Adams, both in Clare Valley.

The advocates of biodynamic methods of agriculture range from the mildly committed, who employ bio-dy techniques selectively and ignore the mumbo-jumbo aspects, to disciples for whom the words of Rudolf Steiner and Nicolas Joly are gospel.

The last part of that sentence, or something similar, was much on my mind late in the afternoon of Wednesday, July 8, as the group I was with paid a visit to Weingut Peter Jakob Kühn, one of the most highly regarded estates in Germany’s Rheingau region. The winery, situated at the outskirts of the incredibly charming village of Oestrich, offers nothing fancy and neither do the unpretentious Peter Jakob Kühn and his wife Angela, who are friendly and down-to-earth, though she is more forthcoming than he, who is the shyer of the couple. (She is a former German Wine Queen.) Both, however, are passionate about their 18-hectare estate (a bit less than 47 acres) and the wines they produce.

PJK has been certified organic since 2004 and this year became a member of Demeter, the organization that certifies biodynamic estates. Much of what Peter Jakob Kühn does in the vineyard, along with being scrupulously meticulous, seems like common sense. Compost the vineyards with estate-produced materials in the Spring. Plant crop cover between vine rows in the Summer and in the Spring plow it under. Avoid chemical nutrients. Apply minimal pressure in the winery; stainless steel and large barrels for riesling, with a light filtration. Anyone could do that.

Peter Jakob, also, however, follows many of the stipulations of biodynamic agriculture as laid down by Rudolph Steiner in his famous lectures of 1924: horn compounds of manure and silica; teas of horsetail, stinging nettle and chamomile to spray on the vines; careful consideration of the phases of the moon to supplement the “movement” of the wine, including during bottling.

We stood with Angela Kühn by a vineyard that sweeps up to one side of the winery, accompanied by the winery’s 13-year-old Labrador, Acino. Here’s where things got a little sticky. One of the group mentioned that the rows did not have great shoots springing from the tops of the vines; were they cut back?

“No,” said Angela, “in the best parcels, we don’t cut the tops of the stems to give a message to the vines that no one wants to damage them and cut off their lives. If you cut the stems, it creates a sense of urgency and power because their lives are in danger, and they want to regenerate the next generation. This pushes the sugar level up. By not cutting the stems, by reducing the stress and gently tying the stems back” — the stems are wreathed along the top of the row and tied with soft but durable material — “we create a more balanced wine. Vineyards that get not only care and concern but love, we feel the vines will profit from it.”

This is the point where I throw my notebook and pen into the air and say, “Oh, please!” Not really, because my mother taught me better, but come on, the vines think their lives are in danger if you cut the stems? You have to love the vines, not just take care of them? Does the same principle apply to tomato plants and rutabagas? Amber waves of grain? Corn as high as an elephant’s eye?

But these are sweet and gentle people, and their attempts to live and work in harmony with nature are touching, and the wines they produce, which is really the issue here, well, the wines are pretty damned wonderful. (And all the wines are closed with screw-caps.)

Take, for example, PJK’s basic wine, the Jacobus Riesling trocken 2008, made in stainless steel. My notes: “Big, ripe, fleshy; yellow plums, camellia, honeysuckle; intense, concentrated, seductive; full, lively, dynamic; v. spicy; crushed stones, pulverized slate and gravel; really great.” The price in Germany is 8.60 euros, or about $12.50. An amazing wine for the price. Jacobus is named for the founder of the estate, Jacobus Kühn, who started making wine here in 1786.

The next level is the stainless steel Quarzit Riesling trocken 2008, and the name tells it all. My notes: “V. stony, v. pure and intense, v. spicy; yellow flowers, yellow fruit, stone fruit; huge hit of minerals, slate and limestone; v. dry, crisp, vibrant, austere.” This is, one admits, a little demanding; it needs a year or two. 13.90 euro, about $19.50 to $20.

We tried two of PJK’s top rieslings. The Oestrich Doosberg 2007, aged in 2,400-liter barrels, is a brilliant medium gold color; the wine is intense and concentrated, coiled like a steel spring, offering incredible energy and nerve and verve; it’s very ripe, very spicy, sleek and lithe and racy, and could stand to mature for two or three years before being opened, or you could wait until 2015 to ’17 and see how it develops. Extraordinary. Not surprisingly, the price goes up at this point, 26.60 euros, about $37.50. The Mittelheim St. Nikolaus Riesling 2005 — current release is ’07 — is powerful and earthy and exotic, an eloquent expression of pure minerality with hints of petrol, jasmine, crystallized ginger and a touch of banana, all leading to a finish that’s almost brutal with granite and limestone. This too needs a few years, say 2011 or ’12 through 2016 or ’17. 24.60 euros, about $34.75.

Finally, there was the Oestrich Lenchen Riesling Spätlese 2008, a pale gold-colored wine of piercing minerality that offered subtle touches of lemon, lemon curd and peach, a wine delicately sweet, winsomely floral and sustained by such a surge of acidic nervosity that the glass feels electrified in your hand, and then from mid-palate back the whole package turns startlingly dry and austere. A lovely and slightly challenging riesling that needs a year or two in the bottle. 18.30 euros, about $26.

So, at this point, Readers, you’re saying, perhaps rather smugly, damn your eyes, “Ah ha, F.K., now you have to revise your negative opinion of biodynamism and admit that it works!” Well, what I will say is that Peter Jakob Kühn is a brilliant winemaker and that he certainly makes brilliant wines, making that judgment on a brief exposure. If biodynamic methods in the vineyard contribute to this brilliance, then I will say that, yes, the principles work here. I wonder though: If Peter Jakob Kühn did not bottle his wines “in a diminishing phase of the moon,” would they be any less brilliant? If he did not spray with, say, the horsetail compound, would the wines be less compelling? Would Peter Jakob Kühn — meticulous, thoughtful, hard-working and attentive — not make brilliant wines under any circumstances?

The wines (or some of them) of Weingut Peter Jakob Kühn are imported to the U.S. by Domaine Select Wine Estates.

Images of the winery and Angela Kühn & Acino are by Ernst Büscher; image of Peter Jakob Kühn is by Tim Wegner.

Last Thursday morning, our group drove to Nierstein, not far up the road from Oppenheim where we were staying, to taste wines at Weingut Heyl zu Herrnsheim and St. Antony. The facilities for these estates are housed under the same roof and presided over by young winemaker Felix Peters. Heyl zu Herrnsheim has been producing organic wines since 1980, while St. Antony is in the process of changing to organic winemaking. We are in the Rheinhessen.

By the wine, the phrase “organic wine” is not allowed on German wine labels; the proper term is “made (or produced) from organic grapes,” though that situation may change by 2010 or 2012. The logic is that in order to be called organic wine, the entire process of making the wine must be “organic” and regulated as such. In any case, Felix Peters does not use the word organic on labels. “We don’t see it as dogma,” he said, “even though it’s important for the estate and the wines. Organic farming is very important for riesling because it’s a very late-ripening variety.” Indeed, we heard this comment wherever we went, from Prof. Kauer at the Wine Institute to many of the winemakers, that with organic and biodynamic methods, the riesling grapes ripen earlier. There’s a trade-off here: Longer hang time for the grapes versus the threat of late frost in the spring.

Readers may think it odd for a group of 12 people to belly up to the bar and start drinking before 10 a.m., but I promise that we spit and poured out far more wine than we swallowed — we’re all professionals here — which in a way was a shame because these were terrific wines. It helps not to eat too large a breakfast; you don’t want to feel bloated and slow when it’s time to analyze wines in rapid succession. Besides, the night before, we hadn’t gotten back to the hotel until midnight, after a long dinner with many wines, and after laying my head on the pillow about one, I rose at 6 a.m. to work on blog postings. See what I do for you, My Readers? Anyway, in those circumstances it’s best to be circumspect and not eat and drink like a fool.

The Rhine River originates in Alpine glaciers in Switzerland, flows north and then west to Basel and then heads north into Germany, picking up tributaries and power as it goes. At the city of Mainz, where the Main river adds its waters to the Rhine, the Rhine, confronted by granite hills, abruptly turns southwest for a few miles before shaking off the geological confines and continuing to flow north-northwest into the Netherlands and to the sea. Along that southwest bend, among steep hills, nestle the vineyards of the Rheingau, on the river’s north bank, and the Rheinhessen, on the south.

The Peter Antony and Heyl zu Herrnsheim estates consist of 85 percent riesling and 15 percent pinot blanc vineyards. The grapes go through spontaneous fermentation, that is, the winery relies on wild yeasts, not inoculation with manufactured yeasts, and the wines see a lot of skin contact for complexity and depth. These are, indeed, wines of complexity and depth, with the Heyl zu Herrnsheim rieslings having a slight edge over the rieslings of St. Antony, though in the final call, such distinctions hardly matter.

Here’s what we tasted that morning a week ago, with brief notes. My attempt here is not to spend heaps of verbiage on each wine but to offer an impression of the style of the house.

>St. Antony Bodenschatz Riesling 2008. Crushed gravel, yellow plums, jasmine, roasted lemon; lime leaves, citrus, gun-flint; spicy finish; fresh and vivid, bright minerality and acidity. Delightful. The price in euros is 6.90; the dollar equivalent would be $9.73. One impressive factor on this tour was the inexpensive nature of German wines. Of course when one gets into the realm of limited edition, late-harvest wines the cost goes up, but generally the wines we encountered, even of high quality, were relatively cheap. And there’s no ridiculous three-tier system to drive prices up along the way from winery to consumer.

>St. Antony Rotschiefer Riesling 2008. “Rotschiefer” is a brand for the two estates, their “most important wine,” Peters told us. This is fermented and aged 50 percent in 70-year-old wooden casks and 50 percent in stainless steel. The wine is a little fatter, smokier and fleshier than the preceding riesling, with deeper spice from start to finish. My notes end: “Incredibly vibrant and resonant — what life and vigor!” 9.80 euros ($13.82)

>Heyl zu Herrnsheim Rotschiefer Riesling 2008. The HzuH “Rotschiefer” derives form different vineyards than the St. Antony rendition, and more wooden casks are used in its production. Peters described this wine as having “a more typical riesling profile.” Perhaps it was slightly more intense and concentrated than the St. Antony. Lemon, pear, hint of peach; a blast of clean acidity; “big” for a riesling, almost forceful, trenchant minerality. 9.80 euros ($13.82)

>Heyl zu Herrnsheim Nierstein Brudersberg Riesling 2008, Grosses Gewächs. Grosses Gewächs, whimsically called “GG,” is an attempt by the estates of a region to agree on an official, though non-federal, ranking of the best vineyards; the equivalent is the French term “Grand Cru,” as it’s used in Burgundy. The notion of ranking vineyards was not only neglected by the Wine Law of 1971 but was actually dismissed as elitist, dealing a severe blow to the structure of German wines at the highest level. (I’ll discuss these issues more fully in a later post.) Anyway, Brudensberg is a monopole for HzH, that is, an instance of an entire vineyard owned by one estate. My notes: Wonderfully floral, flint and limestone, talc; tremendous presence & weight; squingeing acidity, crystalline purity and intensity — but earthy, almost “wheaty.” 30 euros ($42.30)

>St. Antony Nierstein Orbel Riesling 2008, Grosses Gewächs. This spends six months sur lie, 30 percent in wooden casks, 70 percent in stainless steel. Fat, fleshy and earthy, very spicy; dense and chewy; a riesling for chardonnay-lovers, maybe; a little bready and wheaty, dynamic minerality. 18 euros ($25.38)

>St. Antony Nierstein Ölberg Riesling 2008, Grosses Gewächs. Shimmering intensity and purity; peach and pear, very spicy, vibrant and resonant; very dry, huge minerality; jasmine and lilac, also the bready/wheatmeal factor. Superb. 22 euros ($31)

>St. Antony Nierstein Pettenthal Riesling 2008, Grosses Gewächs. Wow, earthy, dense, intense and concentrated; very dry, fathoms of limestone and skeins of vibrant acidity; taut, lively yet almost lush; bready, cheesy and leesy, but slick as a whistle and clear as a bell. Needs three or four years. Superb. 25 euros ($35.25)

>For a treat, Peters pulled out a bottle of Heyl zu Herrnsheim Niersteiner Pettenheim Riesling Spätlese halbtrocken 1991. (“halbtrocken” = “half-dry.”) At almost 18 years old, this wine was young, fresh and clean, offering lovely balance, vibrancy and resonance, aromas of peach and pear and jasmine buoyed by riesling’s requisite petrol aspect; silky in the mouth, slightly sweet entry that immediately goes dry, almost achingly so; towering minerality and acidity. Wonderful riesling with another five to eight years of life.

After the tasting, we took the bus out along a one-lane road to the vineyards, stopping to peer up at the steep inclination of Orbel and Ölberg. The broad river Rhine flows about 100 yards away, down the slope. The vineyards are so steep that small tractors are required for cultivation between the rows. Someone asked about using horses, but Peters said that the land is too steep for horses. The vineyards are not separated by fences or walls, as they might be in Burgundy. The territory is marked by hedges and drainage ditches and nothing else. I suppose that when vineyards have been in existence for 500 years or so, everyone knows where the boundaries are. You just grow up with it in this wine country.

This was a satisfying visit. The wines ranged from enjoyable to great, and we appreciated Felix Peters’ low-key, self-affacing and accommodating manner (which can’t be said, as you will see, for every producer we visited).

The wines of St. Antony are not imported to the United States, but small quantities of Heyl zu Herrnsheim wines seem to be available in Chicago and, oddly enough, Tennessee, though I think not in my part of the state. (Like Gaul, Tennessee is divided into three parts.)