Two Bottles Trinkender Zobel
This week we are drinking two bottles of fermented orchard fruit from Trinkender Zobel (Drinking Sable) from Saale-Unstrut: an Apple Sparkling Wine Brut Nature 2023 and a Whoosh PetNat, also 2023.
Already back in January, I threatened to drink more fermented orchard fruit. And in general, I keep saying that I want to try more from the newer states of Germany in the east. The bottles today are the perfect opportunity to combine these two resolutions. And there are satisfied grins across the table, too, because to make it complete, there’s even an animal label on the bottle. Crazy. Franziska Zobel is a winemaker, but at the same time, she’s started to tend the surrounding orchard meadows, pruning old trees, replanting where necessary, and bringing old varieties back into the mix. Orchard meadows are important, they are part of our cultural landscape, and here in our region on the Albtrauf in the south of Germany, they’re even the defining cultural landscape, as well as an ecological refuge for many animals and plants. With about two hectares, Franziska tends quite a bit more than we do with our little meadow. But even our small plot is enough for me to completely relate to the motivation behind taking on such a task. And somehow, that makes the connection to fermented orchard fruit really different compared to wine from grapes.
In 2017, she started making sparkling wine from apples and pears, initially just for herself, friends, and acquaintances. Then, from 2021, under the label Trinkender Zobel, the drinking sable. The manufactory is in Obschütz and, honestly, I had to consult Maps to find out where that actually is. It’s a little to the east of Freyburg (Unstrut), but even though I’ve heard of some of the local vineyards, it’s still a blank spot on my internal map. We’re working on changing that.
The meadows are farmed organically and are only mown two or three times a year to give the flowers time to reseed themselves. After harvest, the fruit is mashed and spontaneously fermented, then bottled for a second fermentation without filtration, at least for most varieties, because the PetNat Whoosh is made using the Méthode Rurale, where the already fermenting must is bottled directly and the bubbles are created in a single fermentation. The ciders are made from a mix of different apple varieties such as Kaiser Wilhelm, Boskoop, Goldparmäne, Trierer Weinapfel, and several more, whatever is available each year. The version in front of us on the table is fully fermented and bottled as Brut Nature without dosage. The PetNat, besides apples, also contains pears and a portion of quince. There are also versions with cherry (very good, as it’s only subtly cherry-flavored) or elderflower (which is still waiting here to be drunk). All have an alcohol content between 6 and 8 percent by volume, and every bottle is allowed to mature on the lees for at least half a year.
Luckily, the Whoosh only makes a tremendously loud “pop”. For a brief moment, I was worried it would live up to its name, but it decides to stay in the bottle. Thanks for that! It smells like a mix of honey, apples, and pears. A bit wild and a little soapy, as quince tends to be. But I really like that, and I’m also a big fan of sparkling wines made from pure quince, though they’re unfortunately quite rare. This drinks totally clear and uncomplicated, even though there’s a real drive from the acidity. The fruit somehow manages to build enough counterweight to the Brut Nature acidity so you can sip away comfortably. The more often I have something like this in my glass, the more I wonder why cider hasn’t completely shaken up the market. It’s hip, ecological, local (okay, not really for us in this case, but you know what I mean), preserves the cultural landscape, is incredibly tasty, and also low in alcohol. It should totally fit the spirit of the times. One can only hope that it will be more appreciated soon.
The Apple Brut Nature is uncompromising. It feels cool, focused, and then there’s real drive on the palate. It takes a moment to acclimate, but then apple slowly spreads across the middle of the tongue. It tastes like fruit flesh, has exactly the texture of biting into an apple, with skin, core, and even a few pieces of lemon. And bubbles, lots of bubbles. This means that the smaller the sip you take, the more apple you have in your mouth. Because if you drink thirstily, the fruit somehow gets washed away by the acidity and effervescence. At least my palate struggles to keep up. So I practice slowing down and drink slowly, sip by sip, or rather, tiny sip by tiny sip. It’s purist, but not austere. It shines, is incredibly clear, fresh, and focused. Fine apple fruit, a few white blossoms, something citrusy. It’s a great combination.
If that sounds too intense: the Brut is also delicious. It continued our (short) tradition as a low-alcohol finisher at our “lots-of-wine-for-not-that-many-people” evenings. But after the first tasting sip, it was somehow already half gone. No idea how that happened. In general, the roughly 12 euros asked for such a drink is really much too cheap. And the production probably isn’t enough to live off alone. But it’s a gigantic step forward compared to just delivering the fruit to the juicing plant in the neighboring village. The prices paid there really bring tears to your eyes. So drink more cider. Trinkender Zobel is a great tip to start with.