Two Wines by Jonas Dostert
After a few years, we're once again drinking Jonas Dostert: Gros Carambolage with more than one vintage in the bottle, and a Chardonnay from 2023.
Jonas Dostert is, for me personally, one of the winemakers who most shape my perception of the Obermosel. When I think of Mosel without Riesling, I always also think of Dostert’s wines. And Mosel without Riesling is always something extraordinary, considering how deeply steep slate slopes and Riesling itself are embedded in the German wine consciousness. On the Obermosel, at the German-Luxembourg border, the vines grow on shell limestone. And it is right there on the border, in Nittel, that Jonas makes his wines. The last time we had them in our glasses, it was quite difficult to get a hold of bottles. That seems to have eased a little, as is the case with many other wines nowadays. At least it’s not because of us. Large quantities are still not produced, and even less so because the past few years have not exactly been easy. Instead of the Karambolage, made from a mix of Elbling and Pinot Gris, now all four varieties in the lineup, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Elbling, and Pinot Gris, collide in the Gros Carambolage from the 2022 and 2023 vintages. The dry summer of 2022 was a real challenge. Pinot Noir and Pinot Gris spent some time on the skins, Elbling and Chardonnay were pressed directly. So overall, it’s kind of a rosé, but also not. And because we only had blends here on the blog in the last round, it’s now time for a varietal bottle. The Chardonnay from a parcel right by Nittel is pressed directly and has a touch of new oak in the aging, which it apparently didn’t in previous years.
The Gros Carambolage smells wild, without really being wild. Slightly vegetal, some bruised berries, smoke, a dab of umami miso paste, and then the acidity, on the very first sip, pulls the wrinkles from your cheeks. Inside and out. Gros Carambolage is indeed the right name for this wine. But also, behind that, berries appear, cherry, freshly squeezed orange juice, plenty of juiciness overall. Somehow we’re never very good at matching the right weather. This screams summer, but is just as enjoyable today.
Once again, taste and aroma develop diametrically overnight. It smells much less wild, the berries are no longer bruised, the fruit is more present, and the umami has faded. Of course, the wine still has nothing to do with what is commonly called rosé, but it becomes a bit more well-behaved. At least on the nose. Because the acidity pulls even more, just to the point where for me it skirts the edge between delicious and glass-direct-toward-better-half territory. On the “I keep my glass” side. Depending on the sip, the wine tastes like rosehip tea or slightly squeaky cherry. Different from the first evening, but still pretty fantastic and a wine for big gulps, which in any case should only rarely see a second evening. Even though overall, I like it even better today than the night before.
The Chardonnay, on the other hand, starts off in stark contrast. Reserved, grainy, more nutty, maybe buckwheat, slightly reductive and completely devoid of fruit. Really none at all. Not even if you inhale deeply. Yet from the very first sip, the mouthfeel is a brilliant combination of creaminess and soft buttermilk-kefir acidity, which even has that very, very slight granularity on the tongue that fresh yogurt brings. That’s super cool, and while you enjoy that, a bit of citrus slowly creeps behind the acidity and brings along some yellow pear. I’m curious to see what air does to the wine.
It’s kind of funny, because on the second evening, it still feels completely like buttermilk-kefir acidity, but doesn’t taste like it at all anymore. The scent is still free of fruit but much more robust than on the first evening, both on the nose and actually when drinking. The buckwheat remains, as does the slight reduction. If anyone ever asks what is meant by a structured wine, this would be a candidate to pour. The structure, texture, and mouthfeel are brilliant. Lips feel salty, the lemon is back, there’s a hint of oak. It is extremely uncompromising in what it does, it’s cool, lean, straightforward and leaves you sitting there, grinning, with a feeling of frozen yogurt on your tongue for minutes. This is good. Very good indeed.