There are so many helpful posts about what to cook for Thanksgiving. So instead, I thought I’d address the other side of the equation: what to drink with Thanksgiving (and with other holiday festivities). I’ll start with wine.
For a rich meal, I prefer lighter, lower-alcohol choices. There is nothing wrong with a big, juicy Zin, but leaner, European-style wines tend to wear better over the course of a meal. I also think that high-alcohol wines, like Zinfandel or Amarone, work better as an after-meal wine, or what the Italians call a vino da meditazione.
This time of the year has me thinking about baking spices and apples, so I gravitate toward aromatic German-style varietal wines, namely Riesling, Gewürztraminer, and Grüner Veltliner. Sweetness in a wine is often critiqued at as a shortcoming. (Collectively, the wine-drinking public has decided that dry = sophisticated). But for a meal like Thanksgiving, a little sweetness can help bridge the gap between all those bizarre food pairings, like savory gravy and that incomprehensible marshmallow-sweet potato casserole.
In his comprehensive book Grapes and Wines, Oz Clark likens Gewürztraminer to a perfumed, overly made-up woman who tries too hard to get attention. The grape is guilty of yielding over-the-top, sweetly fragrant wines that lack the acidity needed to make them interesting.
But not always. In the grape’s place of origin, Alto Adige, a northern Italian region bordering Austria, the grape’s aromatics are contained and the wine becomes leaner, laced with minerals. J. Hofstätter, a leading estate in Alto Adige, makes Kolbenhof, one of the best Italian Gewürztraminers. For a California option, Gundlach Bundschu in Sonoma also makes a spicy rendition.
Along the same lines as Gewürz, as they say in the biz, is Grüner Veltliner. The first time I tried an Austrian wine made with this grape (in St. Helena, oddly enough), I couldn’t get over how it smelled like cinnamon applesauce. Some people hate this about the wine, but to me it’s fun. Alto Adige grows Veltliner, a grape that as far as I can tell is a relative, if not a carbon copy.
Riesling might be the most misunderstood noble grape in the world. It’s a persnickety overachiever, and like the overachievers you known personally, it’s not always accessible or friendly. You also have to learn how to decipher complicated German wine labels to differentiate the dry Rieslings from the sweet (if you dislike late-harvest styles, avoid wines labeled “Trockenbeeren.”) Or skip the label-reading lesson and buy domestic. The Finger Lakes region in upstate New York yields standout Rieslings. Water from five narrow lakes tempers the climate, insulating the vines from cold in the winter and from heat in the summer. Eric Asimov in the New York Times recommended Finger Lakes producers Ravines and Hermann J. Weimar, among others. And Napa Valley’s longstanding family-owned Trefethen winery has made Riesling for decades.
For the wine drinkers who hate to venture away from the familiar world of Pinot Grigio, there are myriad alternatives to best-selling (and pricy) Santa Margherita. I’d surprise the table with a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the Midwest. Circa, a winery in Lake Leelanau County, Michigan, makes a bright, refreshing wine that pairs well with appetizers. In a completely different direction on the richness scale, I like the velvety, nearly amber version aged in oak from Vie di Romans, a winery in Italy’s Friuli-Venezia Giulia region.
I’d happily drink white wine throughout the meal, but that choice isn’t for everyone. For reds, I lean toward lighter weight, high-acid wines that seem to quench thirst better than Barolo during a rich meal. With its cherry hue and corresponding berry-earthy flavors, Pinot Noir always is a contender during Thanksgiving. But I’ve been disappointed by Pinots that are all cherry and sugar and not much else. This isn’t the case with specimens from the Sonoma Coast, where the cool maritime climate and poor soil delivers brightly acidic fruit. For a textbook example of this style, seek out the Pinot Noir from Hirsch.
Bubbles help, too. If you really want the conversation at the table to turn nostalgic, bring Lambrusco, the favorite wine of Italy’s rich Emilia sub-region. This is not yesteryear’s Lambrusco, though. Artisan Lambrusco producers like Lini 910 make sprightly frizzante wines whose bubbles act as pleasant palate scrubbers. They also tend to be low in alcohol, which can help to keep conversations under control.
That should be plenty to get you started. Cheers!
