Two Bottles Weinwald
From the Staffelter Hof's Weinwald project we drink two bottles of fermented orchard fruit: Flurb is apple, pear, quince, Ubuntu a whole basket of fruit.
For me, fermented orchard fruit is the drink of summer. Apart from water, that is, lots of water. But one isn’t a fish, after all, and when the thermometer is once again hovering somewhere between melting and spontaneous combustion, then cider is, for me, what Kabi would love to be. And because the thermometer sadly insists on staying in exactly those regions, we’re now drinking a bit of fermented orchard fruit. With its over 1,150 unimaginable years of history, the Staffelter Hof is a fascinating enterprise all on its own. But nobody there rests on tradition and history. One of the projects at the estate is the Weinwald (wine forest). On 6 hectares near Kröv, it isn’t only vines that grow, trees and shrubs have also been planted, more greenery in the vineyard, nesting aids, a sheep pasture, and spaces for people to gather. The idea is that this way water can be held better, biodiversity is increased, and there’s more shade. This plot too will likely have a real struggle this year, but it’s one approach to dealing with the ever more extreme weather conditions. Part of that are also the fungus-resistant (PIWI) varieties growing here. But we’ll deal with those in another post. Today we’re drinking two bottles made from fruit harvested and gathered from these plots. For the very first time, which is why there were only 30 packages. Three bottles: two Ubuntus, one Flurb!!
Admittedly, Ubuntu isn’t the happiest name for computer nerds like me. Instead of cider, my head goes to operating systems. In this case, though, Ubuntu is a cuvée of raspberry, blackberry, apple, cherry, pear, quince, vineyard peach, and Riesling. Or so it seems, anyway, because both labels list the same basket of fruit, yet the package in the online shop says one bottle is an 8-fruit wine and the other quince-raspberry. A blind tasting entirely without black glasses and crocheted doilies over the bottles. But that doesn’t matter. Flurb!! makes it easier. There’s apple, pear, and quince in the bottle. A classic cuvée, so to speak.
Despite the pretty label, Ubuntu isn’t comfortable in the bottle. No sooner is the crown cap off than the contents want out too. Luckily through slow but very persistent foaming, and not through an explosive fountain-style emptying. So there’s just enough time to hold two glasses underneath. It smells yeasty and exotic. Blind, it could just as well be an IPA. Quince is there, the berries take a moment to surface. It tastes like fizzy sherbet, has real drive, is surprisingly clear, and gets a little fruitier with every sip. On the palate it’s a cross between cider and pét-nat. There’s grapefruit, something bitter, lychee, mango, pineapple. A basket of fruit, then, though not necessarily the basket printed on the label. It’s surprisingly complex, every sip and sniff is a little different, the structure is lovely, the bitterness, the tannin. And that’s how the whole bottle goes down. On pouring, IPA in the face, then fruit basket and soda. Great.
Out of curiosity, we go ahead and drink the clear-glass bottle of Ubuntu too. This one is much more quince, bathwater quince, and you know I mean that as a compliment. And on the tongue it recalls raspberry. If I had to stick my neck out, the dark bottle would be the fruit basket and the clear glass quince with raspberry. But the longer you drink here, the more peaches surface, and cherries and pears, and luckily I don’t have to commit.
Flurb!! likes it in its bottle. At least it doesn’t come rushing out to meet you. But at first it doesn’t smell at all like apple, pear, quince. Here too there’s the exotic, passion fruit, and then yeast. Blind, it could also be a sour beer. Even more so when drinking than when smelling. The way the acidity aggressively irons the back of your tongue flat, sour beer does that too. Not exactly charming, but somehow endearing all the same. Since both bottles have now drifted a bit in the beer direction, I don’t know whether that maybe comes from the yeast strains. You don’t find much info about how they’re made. Actually none at all. No matter, because it’s delicious, even if the acidity is once again walking the ridge. And once you know the quince is there, it surfaces more and more in the aroma too. Just like the apple. A shame there are so few packages. Because this is real fun.