Question: Would a Moscato taste as sweet by any other name?

Answer: No… but it’s complicated.

It’s become a trend for Wine 101 posts to champion the forgotten and disparaged grapes of the world. In the past, we’ve gone to bat for Riesling and Merlot. There will always be bad wine in the world, and some of it is indeed Riesling and Merlot. Bad wine should be punished and run out of town. But don’t be prejudiced in your disgust—be disgusted only where disgust is merited. Not all Riesling is headache-inducing and cloyingly sweet. Not all Merlot tastes like Welch’s grape juice ramped up with alcohol and sawdust. There’s bad wine everywhere. But… there’s also good wine everywhere. And championing good wine is what Wine 101 is all about.

This time we’re bringing two completely opposite—yet still somehow devastatingly connected—wines to the fore. Here’s a little math to get us going:

MUSCADET  ≠  MUSCAT/MOSCATO.

MUSCAT (France, Germany, etc.) = MOSCATO (Italy).

BUT…

MUSCAT does not always = sweet!

(Only after you’ve memorized those three axioms will you be allowed to proceed.)

Muscadet does not equal Moscato.

The idea that a region in France (Muscadet—pronounced MOOSE-ka-day) is the same as an Italian grape and wine style is one of the most unfortunate falsehoods in the wine world. I don’t know who was in charge of naming things at the Beginning of Wine (thanks, Bacchus), but they messed this one up pretty good. Muscadet (and more precisely, the sub-region of Muscadet Sevre et Maine) is an area located in the western part of France’s Loire Valley, just before the Loire River spills into the Atlantic Ocean. The most important grape grown there is called Melon de Bourgogne which, as you can imagine, doesn’t exactly have roots in the Loire Valley. Melon (mel-OWN) is one of the many offspring of Pinot Noir and Gouais Blanc, which makes it siblings with Chardonnay. Just like Chardonnay, it’s a fairly hardy grape that can grow well in cooler climates—an important feature for trying to make wine in northern regions like Burgundy and the Loire. Melon made the trek from Burgundy to the Loire around the early 18^th century. Dutch traders needed a sturdier grape to withstand the cool coastal temperatures after their delicate red grape vines all froze and died during one particularly frigid winter. The Dutch planted scads of it, with the aim of shipping it up to the Netherlands to be made into brandewijn.

Today, Melon has become inseparable from its secondary coastal home. You’ve heard the saying, “What grows together, goes together”—think Muscadet and fresh oysters! This dry, fresh, mineral-driven wine is a perfect match for the saline notes found in oysters and other seafood dishes. Domaine de la Bretonniere makes a lights-out example—one with delicate orchard fruits, a zippy lemon note, and a whole lot of stony, salty, tanginess that will have you reaching for that 10^th oyster and a second bottle.

Muscat (France, Germany, etc.) equals Moscato (Italy).

Ah, language. I say potayto, you say potahto. I say Pinot Gris, you say Pinot Grigio. Same story with Muscat and Moscato—it all depends on which country you’re standing in. But if we’re playing the “who said it first” game, the Italians have the upper hand. Moscato Bianco is also known as Muscat Blanc a Petits Grains—the noblest and oldest of all the 200+ Muscat varieties. It was one of the first grapes to be identified and cultivated because it had such a distinctive aromatic quality and delicious taste, which logically attracted animals and humans to it. Today, Moscato is known worldwide as a light, frothy, pleasantly sweet wine with a pretty low alcohol content. But buyer beware: there’s a difference between Asti Spumante (or just “Asti”) and Moscato d’Asti! Asti Spumante is a marketing invention that has become the libation of choice for young drinkers, sorority girls and slumber parties around the globe. It’s sticky sweet, has more froth than flavor, and surprisingly higher in alcohol than its more traditional counterpart. Moscato d’Asti, on the other hand, is a beautifully balanced, fruity, lightly sparkling wine with a more moderate amount of sweetness. The Moscato grapes are pressed, fermented until the alcohol level reaches just 5.5%, and then the juice is chilled and filtered immediately. The unfermented sugar left behind gives the wine a gently sweet character, and is packed full with ripe peach, orange blossom, ginger, mango, and candied nectarine. The production level of Asti Spumante outweighs Moscato d’Asti 3 to 1, but it’s well worth seeking out the slightly more expensive (but much better quality) Moscato d’Asti. Pick up a bottle of Vietti Cascinetta Moscato d’Asti for your next weekend brunch.

France does things a little differently with Muscat. The northeastern region of Alsace does it dry, and thinks it’s so cool that it’s listed as one of the 4 noble grapes of Alsace. Southern France has oodles of it, but makes it in a plethora of styles. One of the most common styles comes from the little village of Beaumes-de-Venise, located in the region of Vaucluse. Here, Muscat is made into a vin doux naturel—a sweet, fortified dessert wine. Domaine de Durban’s Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise has a thick, honeyed texture with aromas of baked apple, pear, dried honey, and a bitter floral note on the finish. Pair this affordable dessert wine with strawberries and cream for Wimbledon this summer.

Muscat does not always = sweet!

As we just mentioned, Alsatian Muscat is revered not for its sugar, but for the lovely floral perfume that it provides. And other wine regions capitalize on this part of Muscat, too: the Spanish producer Avinyo makes a dry, slightly-sparkling version that they term “vi d’agulla,” which is Catalan for “prickly wine.” Grown in calcareous clay and fermented in stainless steel to preserve the fresh, mineral quality of the wine, it’s hands-down one of the most beloved spring and summer sippers we’ve come across. Freshly-picked green apple, delicate white wildflowers and a hint of edgy menthol fly out of the glass. This wine is more fully fermented than what you’ll find in Moscato d’Asti (and therefore much drier), putting it up around 10.5%. It’s gulpable, refreshing, and ultra-flexible with food—three of the many reasons we stock up on this delightful wine as soon as the first snowflake melts.

Lesson #1: Muscat, Moscato, Gelber Muskateller, Moscatel—whatever you may call it, it deserves respect. There’s a reason this grape has a spot at the top of history’s list of noble varieties that have stood the test of time.

Lesson #2: Don’t confuse Muscat (as wonderful as it can be) with Muscadet! Even though the names sound way too similar, this is worse than getting Sarah Michelle Gellar and Mister Ed confused for each other. Muscadet is bone dry and goes great with oysters. Muscat is (sometimes) sweet and goes great with pancakes.

Two cheers (separately and in different parts of the building) for Muscat and Muscadet!

A short time ago in a galaxy not so far, far away…

Luke Skybrewer has returned to his home planet of Earth in an attempt to rescue his favorite style, Pilsner, from the clutches of the vile gangster Jabba the HuttWeiser.

Little does Luke know that the Galactic Macro-Empire has secretly begun construction on a new armored marketing campaign even more powerful than the dreaded “Most Interesting Man in the World.”

When completed, this ultimate weapon will spell certain doom for the small band of craft brewers struggling to restore freedom to the galaxy…

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Pilsner: the template for the most consumed style of beer in the world, it has become near synonymous with lager, and most current industrial examples lack any resemblance to the original. What is to become of the dwindling few of authentic but battle-scarred pilsners? Let’s wind the clock back a bit.

In the mid-19^th century, Bohemian brewers were searching for a way to recreate a Bavarian-style lager in their hometown of Plzeň. The result was revolutionary. Czech ingredients proved to be the defining character of the crisp, honey-hued beer that poured forth. Locally grown Saaz hops contributed a spicy, grass-like aroma and soft, seamless bitterness. Moravian barley lent a lightly sweet graham-cracker like malt character to balance. And the biggest influence – the soft, sandstone-filtered Plzeň water – allowed the ingredients to speak. People were infatuated by its sharp, crisp taste and pillowy head of foam.

Though the Czechs can take the creative credit, there are three distinct variations of this hop-forward lager style. The original Czech pilsner has a deeper hue, with softer sweetish maltiness and a floral, grassy aromatic presence. German pilseners are more highly-attenuated (dry), earthy, with a more aggressive hoppy bitterness derived from a differing variety of hop selections. After these are the international pilsners, a category that encapsulates the macro-production pilsners we are familiar with today, ex. Heineken, Stella Artois. These beers offer a touch more sweetness and less substantial hop character for the sake of agreeability. Then there are adjunct lagers marketing themselves as pilsners, we’ll just skip that subject.

Over the last few decades, Pilsner has been a benchwarmer beer-style for craft brewers. Already comprising most of the world’s homogenized beer production, who needs yet one more Pils? It is a quaffing beer, not one on which craft brewing reputations are typically built. This once golden child of the brewing world has taken a long ride in the back seat…

Hush, did you hear that? There is change in the winds, my friends. From what I see as a reaction to the brazen, over-amped flavors of countless new releases, some craft brewers are pioneering the return of the Pils. Fruit-infused, hazy IPAs and barrel-aged stouts may be grabbing headlines, but a remarkable pilsner can be the unbreakable foundation upon which breweries stand the test of time. The popularity of juicy hop flavor and massive vanilla-laden oak may wax and wane, but pilsner is forever. Crisp, clean, and invigorating on the palate, with distinct noble hop character and delicate malt balance, pilsner is bringing fame back to lagers.

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Try a few of our France 44 favorites:

Indeed B-Side Pils – $8.99/6pk (German-style Pilsener)

flowery/orange zest aroma, crackery malt, bitter hop, delicate effervescence

Fair State Pils – $9.49/4pk (German-style Pilsener)

spicy/earthy hop, super clean malt, brisk finish

BauHaus Wonderstuff Neu Bohemian Pilsner – $8.99/6pk or $16.99/12pk (Czech-style Pilsner)

citrus hop, smooth malt, balanced

Bent Paddle Venture Pils – $10.49/6pk (German-style Pilsener)

lemon/grassy hop, clean malt, easy finish

Founders PC Pils – $8.99/6pk or $16.99/15pk (American-hopped Pils)

punchy “C” hops citrus/pine aroma, pleasantly crisp/clean malt, hop kick finish

Victory Prima Pils – $9.49/6pk (German-style Pilsener)

spicy/herbal hop, biscuity malt, spicy/bone dry finish

Pilsner Urquell (The Original Pilsner) – $7.99/4pk (Czech Pilsner)

herbal hop, full honey nut malt, lightly bitter finish

Weihenstephaner Pils – $10.99/6pk (German Pilsener)

firm noble hop aroma, dry bready malt, assertively bitter finish

How could a 5-second clip from a tawdry 2004 movie devastate an industry? But it didn’t. We just missed the point.

In a way that no one could have ever predicted, rosé has become a cultural symbol of “the good life.”

Long gone are the days of tin cans, housing questionable brew, twanging with metallic sadness.

Syrah is a wild thing, and needs to be discovered on its own terms.

It’s never been easier to buy organic wine. We’ve never had such a wide selection of varieties and styles from so many places at our fingertips—and it’s never been more confusing.

The Lie: Sulfites are bad for you.

Talking about sulfites in wine is like talking about politics: it’s uncomfortable, confusing, and sometimes it gets people a little too riled up, but it’s important. And although you’re your own person and you should make up your own mind about these things, isn’t it better to be as informed as possible before making yourself a martyr to NSA wines for the rest of your life?

I’m beyond (nervously) excited to write this post—sulfites in wine is a topic I’ve wanted to write about for years. I have a family member who is sensitive to sulfites, and it’s been an adventure figuring out which wines are safest to bring for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And if I had a nickel for every time a concerned customer asked me why they got headaches, rashes, and hives from certain wines (and they’re sure it’s because of the sulfites), I’d have enough money for med school.

I know how hard it is for wine lovers to navigate the murky (sometimes literally) waters of organic, biodynamic, “natural,” and NSA (no sulfites added) wines to fit their health restrictions. It takes a lot of time, willingness, and patience to learn about what sulfites are, why they’re used, and why everyone is so scared of them, but it’s worth it to try to understand! No one has all the answers and I’m certainly no doctor; and you are the only one who knows what your body likes and what it doesn’t. If this is your first time delving into the mysterious world of sulfites, may it be only the beginning of your journey towards greater knowledge!

Sulfites vs. Sulfur Dioxide

This is an important distinction, so listen up! Sulfites are a naturally occurring byproduct of the process of fermentation. Along with tannins, alcohol, sugar, and acidity, sulfites are an important part of preserving wine. Sulfites also protect wine from harmful bacteria and premature oxidation. Without sulfites, your wine would be downright disgusting, and probably dangerous to drink! But most times, sulfites on their own just aren’t enough, so the vast majority of winemakers worldwide will add sulfur dioxide, usually in the form of powder. This is done (either) right when the freshly-picked grapes enter the winery, and (or) just after the grapes are crushed and are beginning to ferment.

Sulfites are No Fad

Sulfites weren’t something suddenly invented by cut-rate California winemakers in the ‘80s, or by Australian winemakers wanting to make an easy buck with their critter wines. Ever since humans had a rough knowledge of the principles of alcoholic fermentation and how to make wine last longer than a few days (and believe me, this wasn’t the case for a good chunk of winemaking history), they’ve known the benefits of sulfites and used sulfur dioxide to their advantage. The Germans caught on early, and were the first (in 1487) to issue a decree permitting use of sulfur dioxide to help preserve their glorious (white) wines for years to come, thus revolutionizing the German wine trade in the 15^th century. And you know what? It’s not just wine that contains sulfites—you’ll find them in ridiculously high amounts in your dried fruit, bottled lemon and lime juice, and sauerkraut, and in moderate amounts in a plethora of other foods and drinks.

The Boogeyman in Your Bottle

So, if sulfites are naturally occurring and sulfur dioxide has been around for centuries, why is it that people are scared to death of them today? Let me introduce an important character in our sulfite discussion: Strom Thurmond, former U.S. Senator of South Carolina. Whatever you may think of this stalwart public servant, he has several lasting legacies that persist well beyond his grave, with his most well-known bequeathal consisting of only two words: “Contains Sulfites.” Mr. Thurmond was, among other things, a staunch teetotaler. In fact, he was the head of the NAIII (National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism) in the 1970s—during the wave of so-called “neo-Prohibitionism.” In an effort to deter people from consuming alcohol, he succeeded in getting a ruling from the Senate stating that sulfite warnings were required to appear on all bottles sold in the U.S. To be clear, this wasn’t to make people aware of the health issues surrounding sulfites (which we’ll get to in a minute)—it was a fear tactic used to make people stop drinking alcohol. That’s the real reason we still have those two unfortunate words on all our wine labels.

Now, let’s get one thing straight: all wines contain sulfites. Remember, they’re naturally occurring—and there’s no magic machine to extract them. Therefore, you won’t find a single label in the United States that doesn’t bear “Contains Sulfites” on the back. (International winemakers are all required to stick this extra warning on shipments headed to the U.S., even though there’s no requirements to do so in their own country!) But here’s the kicker: to 99% of the population, sulfites are completely harmless. The only downside to extremely high amounts of sulfur in wine (which doesn’t happen often) is that it smells pretty rank when you open it—like a freshly struck match, or maybe rotten eggs. Only about 1% of people have a legitimate allergy to sulfites, and these people are more often than not severe asthmatics. Also more often than not, these people well aware of their situation and stay far away from wine. Reactions to sulfites in these situations usually include problems with breathing—shortness of breath and wheezing—not headaches, redness or itching.

What’s Really In a Glass?

So if you’re not a severe asthmatic and you haven’t been given a doctor’s note to swear off wine, what are all those headaches, rashes and hives after just one glass of wine all about? Truth be told, there’s a lot more in a glass of wine than just sulfites! Be aware of the levels of alcohol, sugar, and tannin in your wine. Especially if it’s a hefty wine with high levels of these components, make sure you’re eating food while you’re drinking, and above all, hydrate! Down a glass of water first before you reach for the bottle again! This is one of the most important factors in how wine will affect you, but also one of the easiest to forget. Of course, these are basic rules that we’ve all heard a million times and hate to hear again, but being conscious about these things saves you a heck of a lot of pain and misery later.

Some other things that could diminish your wine drinking experience include the proteins and histamines found naturally in a lot of wines, as well as other additives that some producers put in their cheaper wines to make them taste more appealing. Oak substitutes, Mega Purple grape juice concentrate, tannin powder, and specialized enzymes and compounds can help correct a lot of faults in a poorly made wine and make it taste pretty good, but the ugly truth is this: the more you mess with a wine, the more it can mess with you. And above all else, it’s absolutely worth it to have a conversation with your personal physician about what to avoid and what’s okay.

In plain English, what all of this means is that if you really want to get to the bottom of why you’re reacting to certain wines and would just like to find a few reliable wine choices that won’t make you rue the day, you’ve gotta do a little research. It also means you’ve probably got to start shopping the middle shelves instead of the bottom ones. I’m not saying well-made, cheap wines don’t exist (look for a post on that soon!), but many of those bottom-shelf wines are cheap for some not-so-glamorous reasons.

Wine is meant to give you pleasure. We live in a vinicultural age where almost anything is possible, and that has given us a multitude of delicious experiences to choose from. But because we have all these options, this requires us to be more knowledgeable about what we’re drinking. Sulfites are definitely there in your glass, but for the overwhelming majority of wine lovers, they’re not the culprit of your ills! Think of them as little helper compounds that only want you to enjoy your wine to the very last drop—whether it’s fresh from the bottling line or twenty years down the road.

Finally, one of the most pleasure-giving things about wine is the knowledge we can gain from it and about it. Knowledge is power, and knowledge will lead you to delicious, inspiring, well-informed wine experiences… with fewer regrets the next morning.

Three cheers for sulfites!

Resources for this post, plus more reading for you!

The Sommelier Prep Course by Michael Gibson

The Wine Bible by Karen MacNeil

A History of Wine in America, Vol. 2 by Thomas Pinney

Inventing Wine by Paul Lukacs

“The Truth About Sulfites” by Lettie Teague for the Wall Street Journal (March 13, 2015)