White Wine For Winter. Even If 'Winter' Has Become Relative.
Sometimes, you have to go a little further north, for both snow and wine.
It was mid-January, and it had been years since we’d had a real winter in the mid-Atlantic. I was pining for snow, and feeling nostalgic for when I lived near mountains. So when my son needed a ride back to school in Vermont, I eagerly offered to drive.
Be careful what you wish for. First it started snowing, then four hours in, an intense blizzard suddenly engulfed us. Luckily, the flurry cleared swiftly, and when we pulled off the highway, at the outlet malls near Lake George, the sun was shining again. I should have been more patient—grabbed a second cup of coffee, waited for the road crews to do their work. Instead, we set off on a winding rural road utterly encased in ice, which led to a fender bender and an insurance claim. By the time we finally reached Burlington, Vermont, it was snowing again, and continued for the next 48 hours. I was ready for a drink.
Fortunately, Burlington is wonderful. It’s home to one of my favorite wine bars, Dedalus. On that snowy night, I trudged into the bar, in my flannel and boots, and ordered a bottle of Roussette de Savoie, a white wine from an appellation in the French Alps made from the altesse grape.
White wine on a night like this? Yes. I’m always surprised at how many wine lovers simply abandon whites when the weather turns cold. “No white between Labor Day and Memorial Day” is equally vapid advice in both fashion and wine. But it’s a specific kind of wine I’m looking for during the cold months. A Winter White: full-bodied, a little rounder, a bit more aromatic, ripe and fleshy, with perhaps some oak on it. To tap into the Winter White mindset, think SZA’s “Big Boys” lyrics: “It’s cuffing season, and now we’ve got a reason, to get a big boy, I need a big boy.
What I drank at Dedalus—2018 Domaine de Cotes Rousses “Ensemble”—epitomizes Winter White. Rich, dense, moody; swirling notes of gaudy flowers, wild herbs, and tropical fruit, balanced by notes of white pepper and black tea, and an underlying saltiness. This altesse had a lot going on, but it still had a zesty energy. When I visited Savoie a few years ago, I went to lunch with a group of Alpine winemakers at an auberge that was famous for frog legs, which everyone insisted was the perfect pairing for altesse. At Dedalus, I enjoyed a delicious risotto with mushroom, brown butter, and sage, alongside a funky, raw-milk Gruyère, with my Roussette de Savoie.
This sort of off-piste wine appeals to the nerd in me, and it’s why I love Dedalus (which is also a wine shop, with three locations in Vermont and one in Boulder, Colorado). Its wine list is broken into non-traditional sections, with headings for Mountain Wines (savagnin and poulsard from Jura, Teroldego from Trentino), Mineral Solutions (single-vineyard grüner veltliner, white Bandol), and “New Spain” (trepat from Catalonia, mencía from Ribeira Sacra). There’s a good selection of Loire and Beaujolais, and by-the-glass pours of stuff like Portuguese whites, skin-contact pinot gris, or dry Hungarian furmint. A list like this proves that the generational shift in wine preferences isn’t just happening in the Lower East Side or Silver Lake. All over the U.S., at places like Dedalus, people are drinking different styles, grapes, and regions, and a new cohort of prestige wines is evolving.
I was snowed into Burlington for a few days, so I returned to Dedalus another night to order another Winter White. This time it was a personal favorite: 2018 Arnaud Lambert Brézé ‘Clos de Le Rue’, from Saumur in the Loire Valley. With about two years in oak, this dry chenin blanc differs from much of the better-known, mineral-driven examples from, say, Montlouis or Savennieres. Contemporary wine culture is moving away from oaked whites—toward concrete and amphora and whatnot—and it’s interesting to see someone with Lambert’s natural-wine cred producing a wine like this. Clos de Le Rue’s heft and structure give serious Burgundy vibes, yet the generous aromas and flavors are all chenin, just with the volume turned up: beeswax, apple peel, ripe pear, ginger, nutmeg, great acidity, an underlying hint of saltiness, and that beautiful wool sweater feeling one gets with great chenin blanc. It was what SZA might call a big-boy white, and paired well equally with Dedalus’ beef tartare and a dish of leeks with capers and dill in vinaigrette.
Because another thing about Winter Whites is that they defy typical pairing advice. Think of the winter table. Soups and stews, creamy pastas, root vegetables, roast pork and fowl, and even fondue all pair wonderfully with bigger, richer white wines. Perhaps the most important rule of thumb about Winter Whites is this: Don’t drink them too cold. If possible, serve them at cellar temperature (around 55 degrees or so), and avoid the fridge altogether. Too much chill masks the desired richness and aromatics.
As much as I would have liked, I couldn’t stay in Vermont forever. When the snow finally cleared, and it was time to drive home, I grew a little sad—and I don’t think it was only because I had Noah Kahan’s Stick Season repeat.
Once I finally got home to New Jersey, we had our first significant snowfall in years. It was truly winter. So I continued on my Winter White jag. After shoveling snow, I opened another Alpine wine, a pinot blanc from Italy’s Alto Adige—or a Weissburgunder from Südtirol, as the German-speaking residents would call it.
Some of the best and most ageworthy pinot blanc comes from this region, and this 2020 Cantina Terlano Vorberg Riserva did not disappoint. It’s such a pretty, elegant wine, which opens with a fresh nose of herbs and evergreen forest and then turns toward honey and white blossoms. But on the palate, it’s opulent and ripe—a fruit basket of pineapple, melon, apricot, and pear—balanced by great acidity and a long mineral finish. This weissburgunder has a long life ahead of it, and I want to lay down a few more bottles. It was perfect with some homemade gemelli with rich, creamy sauce of roasted butternut squash, sage, and walnuts.
The next day, as I dealt with the insurance company and the body shop, a heavy rain came and—and washed away all the snow we’d waited so long for, turning everything gray and gross. Yet that night, sipping the Alpine pinot blanc, it was Winter White season as it should be.
More Winter Whites To Seek Out
Domaine Prieure Saint-Christophe Roussette de Savoie 2020, $70
A benchmark bottle in the Rousette de Savoie appellation, one of the finest examples of the altesse grape. Legendary Alpine winemaker Michel Grisard retired a few years ago and now the estate is run by Clement Giachino, who has kept up the quality. Complex, honeyed, with notes of wildflower, almond blossom, hazelnut, great minerality and a long finish
Domaine Louis Magnin Vin de Savoie Chignin-Bergeron 2014, $38
In Savoie, the Rousanne grape is known as Bergeron, grown specifically in the Chignin-Bergeron cru. Full-bodied, generous, ripe, and round, with big floral and warm citrus, balanced with lively acidity and an underlying salinity. An aged Alpine wine for a cold winter night.
Domaine aux Moines Savennières Roche aux Moines 2021, $58
Some of France’s greatest white wines come from Savennières, a small appellation, with only 146 hectares and a small number of wineries. Many consider it the ultimate expression of chenin blanc. Roche aux Moines is a small appellation of 22 hectares within Savennières, of which Domaine aux Moines owns 9 hectares. Got all that? Just remember this bottle, from one of my favorite Loire winemakers, Tessa Laroche. This is a big, charming, ripe chenin blanc with a nose of beeswax, grilled pineapple, ripe pear, and a bit of melon. In the mouth, it’s both rich and bright, a burst of tangerine along with the pear and pineapple, and a subtle, underlying smokey note carrying through to the chalky finish.
Bernard Baudry Chinon Blanc 2022, $34
Slightly confusing grape and appellation names for American tongues (Say Chenin Blanc Chinon Blanc three times fast). But Chinon, normally known for its reds made with cabernet franc, makes its share of dry chenin blanc. Bernard Baudry is one of Chinon’s finest producers, and this white is an outstanding value. Ripe and round, with fleshy pear and warm citrus, and a little earthy and nutty.