As much as I like my wine, I have to confess that the industry vocabulary can be just as much fun. For example, I’ve professed my profound admiration for the versatility behind the term Gewürztraminer, which, of course, describes a popular grape family. The name sounds like part of a police report one minute (“The victim declined to place a monetary value on his prized Gewürztraminer timepiece”); in the next, it’s featured in a legal brief (“His Honor found in favor of the plaintiff in Westlin vs. Gewürztraminer”). Now, I come to find that the item’s reddened outer skin makes it part of the white grape clan. Man, that word is all over the map and back again, at least in my cockeyed world; about the only place you won’t find it is in an algebraic equation.
It’s even plastered all over a bottle of the 2008 Chateau Ste. Michelle Gewürztraminer, one of the better entries from Washington state’s fabled wine country. Given the manufacturer’s locale, you might expect a heavy helping of an apple or pear taste—but this one packs a really peachy punch, almost like it’s been sitting in a grove. There’s also some soapberry in there to enhance the sweetness. Over ice (a cardinal sin, I know), this pairs well with spicier stuff, like curry or tamales or any number of super-hot Thai dishes. In fact, I had several of the latter over to my place the other night; they thought the fare was reasonable, and they seemed to like the wine and food, too.
The coolest part is that you don’t have to go to Washington for this one. All you need to do is get your wallet over to BevMo or elsewhere, pull out a measly $10 and thank the nice man behind the counter. The tough part comes in trying to pronounce “Gewürztraminer,” whether under its influence or not. It’s so rampant throughout the language that you’d think we’d have the hang of it by now.
—Martin Jones Westlin


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