Andreas Durst - Grosser Durst 2018

It was that time again: the Riesling craving struck. After all the Chardonnay and Pinot of recent weeks, it was bound to happen eventually. Riesling it is, then. I’ve been following Andreas’ wines for a few years now, and he himself tends to pop up in places where we also find ourselves. I realize that our evening at SchmelzPerlageBodensatz was over a year ago already. Time really flies, but it was a good time. It’s actually been much longer since his wines appeared on this blog, so it’s high time to change that. Andreas Durst came into the wine world through photography. Anyone familiar with German wine has probably seen his pictures more than once. At some point, he fermented a few grapes in a large glass bottle in his workshop. Since it worked out so well, he stuck with it. The quantities grew, though they never became large, and his techniques stayed minimalist. Now, he produces a few hundred bottles here, and a few more there: Riesling, Silvaner, Spätburgunder, Chardonnay, and Portugieser, the latter possibly the best Portugieser in the world, but I digress, as today we’re drinking Riesling.

The screw cap on the bottle isn’t particularly romantic. But unless someone has jarred it or set the machine incorrectly, it doesn’t really bother me. I’m more than happy to trade the ritual of opening a bottle for the peace of mind a screw cap brings. Six years in the bottle isn’t something you’d typically expect from an entry-level 2018 Riesling. Normally, much of that youthful freshness would have faded. By this point, the wine might be creaking like an old man with a sore back and aching knees. Especially 2018: warm, heavy, bitter, and petroleum-like, not only in entry-level Rieslings.

Grosser Durst seems to have missed that memo. It smells subtly of yellow fruit with a light creaminess, deeply relaxed and balanced. And that’s exactly how it tastes, deeply relaxed and balanced. Mineral-obsessed purists and austerity fanatics won’t find what they’re looking for here. But acid-averse drinkers can easily pour themselves a second glass without suffering from heartburn later. It tastes of mirabelle plum, lightly creamy with a hint of acidity and a texture that won’t offend anyone. And while this might sound incredibly bland and generic, it manages to build a subtle inner tension, with intensity and liveliness. It has everything Riesling should have: juiciness, minerality, fruit somewhere between mirabelle and peach, and a touch of maturitym, all in perfect harmony. I really enjoy it, and the longer the evening goes on, the more radiant, clear, and refined it becomes in the glass.

It stays just as radiant on the second evening. By now, a hint of butter caramel sneaks into the aromas here and there, just fleetingly. It remains fresh, full of stone fruit, stone, and spice, still harmonious, balanced, and deeply relaxed. I don’t know if I’d blindly place this wine as a 2018, probably not. And without that hint of caramel, I might not even guess it’s older than two or three years. With wines like this, you wonder why 2018 has such a reputation. But of course, the reputation isn’t made up, it’s true that 2018 is a challenging year, often aging poorly and reaching places you might never have wanted it to go. All the more wonderful that this wine defies that trend. Part of this can probably be attributed to the screw cap, but a bigger part is due to Andreas’ winemaking approach. His wines are delicious young but clearly reach their peak with a few years of aging, even in a warm year. If a larger stock of this Riesling were in my cellar, I’d be completely relaxed. Just like the wine. Too bad that stock doesn’t exist.

Related Posts

• Two Forgotten Bottles Köhler-Ruprecht
• Two Bottles Vagabund
• Reichsrat von Buhl - Deidesheimer Paradiesgarten 2016