Variety/Blend: Grüner Veltliner
Region: Kamptal (Niederoesterreich)*
Recommended Pairing: One of those electric razors thats specifically made for manscaping
I would like to formally apologize to the people of Germany for my previous post. This wine makes up for the Riesling Spätlese. Also the Holocaust was definitely worse than your wine labeling regulations.**
But really the credit for this wine goes to Austria—Germany’s exasperated sibling to the south. You’ve given us Mozart, PEZ dispensers, and Freudian psychoanalysis. And now you’ve given us this wine that is as righteously acidic and sharp as your characteristic angst.
This wine is curvaceous and prickly at the same time, like licking Tom Daley’s legs a few days after the Olympics. I loved every second of it. (There’s a reason the bottle is almost empty in the photo.) This wine was truly a breath of fresh, Austrian mountain air. Taking a sip of this wine was similar to that feeling you get when a Nicki Minaj verse starts in the middle of a generic pop song. One minute I’m sulking away from the church bells of a nunnery, and the next minute I’m Julie Andrews twirling through the hills.
Here. I have written a limerick.
Seeking a wine with a sunny demeanor?
This one’s finish has never been cleaner!
Like Nicki Minaj at the store
(a wine that has acid galore),
you better keep an eye out for Grüner Veltliner.
*It’s fucking Austria, alright?
**But only a little bit. I stand by this.