“I bet you haven’t tried this grape,” Troy said when we entered the tasting room. Finding someone who shares—and understands— your passion is like stumbling upon a person who can speak your language in a foreign country. Someone else knows why tasting our 200th grape variety meant so much to us.
Our journey began with varieties everyone has heard of, no matter what their experience level. It soon turned us to the hinterlands of Italy, searching for unpronounceable grapes of Abruzzo and Trentino-Alto Adige. We traveled, metaphorically speaking, to the Dão Region and Douro River valley of Portugal, drawn by the country’s love of its indigenous grapes. Greece was a treasure trove.
We had challenged Greg, the shop owner, to find us new ones. He certainly added to the bunch. He brought us our first taste of Saperavi and guided us on our maiden voyage into orange wines made from Ribolla Gialla from Friuli-Venezia Giulia, Italy.
When we visited wine stores, I wasn’t looking for certain bottles. I was shopping for grapes.
A bottle of Cantina Dell’Alunno Sagrantino Di Montefalco screamed at me as we approached 100 varieties. I remember one writer suggesting that it be decanted for 24 hours. They were right. Eight years in the bottle wasn’t enough to tame this tannic beast. My notes were kinder, and I volunteered to try it again with proper decanting.
Our wine journey included many highlights, including tasting a 2010 Château Lascombes, Margaux. The question that always puzzles wine neophytes is knowing when you’re tasting a good bottle. We didn’t need a tap on the shoulder to clue us in when we sipped this velvety, red elixir. Yes, I could live on a desert island with just this one wine.
The most sensual moment came when the first sip of the 2014 Château d’Yquem Sauternes touched my lips. Nothing prepared me for the flood of candied lemons, succulent white peach, juicy apricot, and honey. I experienced the evolution of a poured wine, with each sniff and sip bringing a new adventure. I felt I finally understood wine on a different plain. It was a glimpse of the spark that captured so many.
The final leg of our journey began with a seated tasting of Armenian wines. This tiny, landlocked country of the Eurasian Caucasus’ southern portion held the key to our last grape varieties and the road to the 200th one. I had never tasted any, so it was a chance to score a few more grapes. I didn’t realize it included tasting some of the oldest grapes known based on archaeological evidence.
We were going to be savoring history.
We shared our table with another enthusiastic couple of wine lovers, John and Kara. The presenter teased that we would have something to one-up our wine-snob friends with these bottles from the Keush and Voskevaz Wineries. John quipped, “But they’re all here.”
We added three new grapes to our list: Voskehat, Khatouni, and Areni. The wines were captivating, with aromas that teased but didn’t reveal themselves at first. Perhaps it was learning the grapes were part of the roughly 6,000-year wine story. Maybe it was the closest thing to seeing it being born with a link to the grapes’ probable birthplace with each wine.
The presenter told us the epic story of winemaker Vahe Keushguerian and his daughter Aimee. Keushguerian and his team did what many would consider impossible: he brought history to life with the wine made of smuggled grapes out of Iran. It was a dream made into wine.
Troy showed me the bottle, a 2021 Molana Rasheh, Iran. He asked if I had seen “Somm 4—The Cup of Salvation.” I hadn’t been aware of the fantastic story of Keushguerian and his pursuit until the Armenian tasting.
“This is the wine Vahe made.”
The wine brought me full circle. My wine journey had taken me across the globe, from my Hungarian heritage to the beauty of Provence to Minnesota’s weather-resistant grapes. But it all came down to this sip, this opportunity to taste the past and pull back the curtain on wine’s magic.
It was the wine moment I’ll never forget. A quest to tell their story met another grateful listener and recipient. The wine was exquisite, but how else can one describe something imbued with passion, risk, and timelessness?
When I think of all the obstacles and challenges along my own wine journey, I feel humbled. We’ve savored many bottles with family and friends. Some were stunning, while others taught us the meanings of corked, lightstrike, and bottle shock. However, if this was the only path to get to the 200th grape, so be it. It was worth it. Now, onto the 300th grape.
Photo by Apolo Photographer on Unsplash