Tokaj Essence

I tasted my first Tokaji aszú wine somewhere over the Atlantic, appropriately, on my first flight to Budapest.  I remember only that the honey-colored nectar was as sweet as it looked and that I was grateful for the side of blue cheese.  Not one for dessert wines, I haven’t really touched it since, though it is one of the great prides of Hungary.  In spite of the former and because of the latter, somewhere in between here and there, Tokaj finally made it to the top of our trip list a few weeks ago.

When we reached the Tokaj region (2.5 hours by car from Budapest), we immediately set about exploring the vineyards.  I love vineyards for many reasons, not the least of which is their ability to lend a linear order to otherwise unruly terrain.  Up, down, and around we went, following the lines that criss-cross the hills near the Tisza and Bodrog rivers.  Eventually we made our way to Hotel Gróf Degenfeld, the charm of which was only somewhat heightened by its emptiness.  We were one of two sets of guests, though it was only the first weekend of the non-peak season.  This left me to wonder whether the tourism industry here was weaker than I had expected, or if we had just barely missed something truly great.  I often have that sense as an out-of-the-know expatriate.  When, for example, every car on the highway seems to be headed in the opposite direction.  Did we miss something?  Did something get lost in translation? 

We spent two minutes pondering this, and then promptly turned our attention to more important matters.  This was, after all, wine country.  In the musky, mold-lined depths of the wine cellar, our tour guide explained just what makes Tokaji aszú wines so special. It’s not just your average late harvest wine.  It seems that the sunny slopes and the rivers create a unique microclimate which promotes Botrytis.  Botrytis is essentially mold.  The grapes destined for this coveted ruin are left on the vine until late in the season when the Botrytis takes hold.  They are then picked carefully by hand.  The resulting grapestuff (aszú ) that is added to a barrel of young wine is measured in puttonyos.  (1 puttonyo of aszú = one full day of picking!)  Tokaji aszú wines range from 3 to 6 puttonyos, and the Eszencia is, essentially, off the charts.

After the tour, we headed to the hotel’s cellar restaurant for a tasting session, where we were first served warm nuggets of flaky bread called Pogácsa.  Then six varieties of wine arrived, ranging from semi-dry to eye-wateringly sweet.  I tend to gravitate toward floral, flouncy wines, so the Muscat stole my heart straight away.  As we got deeper into the aszú, the Pogácsa disappeared faster and faster, and I watched in an amusement as my husband’s face registered one pucker after the next.  The cruelty of aszú wines is that sugar content follows puttonyos, meaning that the more intense, rare, and flavorful the wine, the sweeter it is.  My husband struggled to get past the sugar, while I struggled with the mold.  At the risk of following one theme redundantly (see:  Gruyère), I have to admit that the concept of aszú was unnerving for me.  It may be a noble rot, but for me that distinct, famous flavor called up irrepressible images of grapes decaying on the vine.

Needless to say, we followed the wine tasting with a savory dinner, chased by the driest Furmint available.  Sunday was again spent exploring the vineyards, and then back to Budapest.  In the brief time since then, winter has definitely flexed its cold, rainy muscles, and those beautiful fall days are a mere memory.  Consequently, I’ve made a batch or two of mulled wine, bringing to mind some of my friends who jokingly call it  “mold wine.”  My weekend in Tokaj adds an unexpected layer to the joke.  When it comes to Hungarian wine varieties, I think I will stay with my drier companions, though I intend to bring a bottle of Tokaji aszú home for the holidays.  It is undeniably unique in both flavor and origin.  That’s why this season, in addition to the traditional, un-punned version, I think everyone should get a taste of that sweet Hungarian essence.

Tagged as: Degenfeld, Dessert wine, Furmint, Hungarian wine, Hungary, Life, Noble rot, Tokaj, Wine