First things first

We’ve chewed ’em up, spat ’em out and lived to tell each other about ’em in no uncertain terms—the landmark events in our lives that make us, for better or worse, what we are today. Some of ’em are innocuous enough, like your first haircut or your first bender or your first driver’s license; others may carry a little more weight, like your first serious car accident or your first bar fight or your first time. (I remember that last one, all right. Gimme the bender any day. While you’re at it, throw in the accident. And the bar fight, which I summarily lost.)

You, bless ya, are about to experience just such another watershed event—your first taste of Ludwig Neuhaus Auslese Rhinehessen, a Riesling that’ll make your first time seem like your second. It’s from Rhinehessen, Germany’s largest grape-growing region. It’s been aged for about a million years. Its bottle has virtually no punt (the curvy space on the bottom), so you’re getting the most for your money. And it dotes on you so unceasingly that you’ll think it’s your mom. This one’s on the wet side, and somewhat startlingly so at first. Then you realize that all that intrusiveness is just setting you up for the kill. In my experience, no other non-domestic white holds its own so consistently in both taste and aroma; its starchy, grapey presence is so commanding that it’s probably best consumed by itself. I’d paired a nice Swiss cheese with it and, upon first swig, promptly lost all thought of the former.

I bought a bottle at North Park’s Mosaic wine bar for $14.99. You can do the same at wine stores everywhere. But as long as this Auslese is on hand, those stores are unwittingly doubling as community service centers. This is the best foreign wine I’ve ever tasted, you guys. My first time may have sucked, but it’s part of who I am—and now, so is this transcendently splendid wine.