Wines for Passover: You've come a long way, bubbe

For reasons known only to Western-centered consciences, Israel is generally not the first place we associate with wine.

Ironic, considering that the spiritual locus of ‘Passover’—Pesach in Hebrew—is the Holy Land, where the winemaking tradition goes back twenty thousand years—far longer than recorded history—when hunter gatherers first harvested wild grapes from the shores of the Sea of Galilee.

By the time that the potent combination of wine and religion was realized, winemakers were milking millennia of experience.

And in the Jewish calendar, no period of observance has a more a direct connection with wine than Passover—in fact, there is a Rabbinic requirement that four cups are to be drunk during the Seder. Although grape juice is an acceptable substitute, the Mishnah (Pes. 10:1) insists that even the

poorest man in Israel has an obligation to drink.

Each cup is connected to a different part of the ritual feast, held on the first and second nights of Passover. The first cup is for Kiddush; the second cup is connected with the recounting of the Exodus; the third cup concludes Birkat Hamazon and the fourth cup is associated with Hallel.

There’s a fifth cup, offered not to Seder guests but to the disembodied spirit of the Prophet Elijah—lest Passover become hangover.

For proper observance, wines served at a Seder meal must be kosher, but they no longer need be the cloying, concord grape-based, headache-inspiring wines that twenty years ago were the norm. Interestingly, the wine that the media used to dub the kosher wine, Manischewitz, is frequently made with corn syrup—a food forbidden at Passover. Still, when even the poorest man has an obligation to drink, it’s hard to beat Manischewitz’s MD 20/20.

Kosher wines carry a heckscher—a mark demonstrating that a rabbi has supervised the preparation of the wine. Usually, heckschers include either the letter U or the letter K inside a circle and can found on the wine labels.

ISRAELI WINEMAKING COMES OF AGE

There was a time when Israeli-produced wine was roundly regarded as sugar-saturated, overly-grapey alcohol juice—mostly because, like New York’s Manischewitz, it was.

Then, came along came Golan Heights Winery. Established in 1983 on a strategic plateau that prior to 1967’s Six Day War had listed a Syrian zip code, GHW produced in that first harvest a tannic, fruit-rich cabernet sauvignon which effectively dragged Israeli winemaking out of the doldrums. The 1984 vintage went on to take the Winiarsky Trophy for the Best Cabernet Sauvignon Worldwide.

Considering the competition at the London-based I.W.S.C wine-off, the victory was tantamount to what happened during David and Goliath’s tiff.

Though on no official record saying so, GWH’s investment in the Galil Mountain Winery in the Upper Galilee can be seen as a bet-hedger against the chance that Golan Heights may someday revert back to Syrian ownership. Says GWH winemaker Victor Schoenfeld: “It could happen in a hundred years or in five—nobody knows. We are not politicians and they don't ask us our opinions.”

Still, the Galil vineyards suffered a direct rocket hit during the 2006 Israel/Hezbollah conflict, destroying 10% of the harvest--Plan B is kind of like buying property in Chernobyl in case the Enrico Fermi plant melts down.

Beside the Golan, there are five other wine regions of note in Israel. Galil’s Napa-like elevation, Sonoma-like breezes, Burgundian temperature changes and Bordelaise soils make it a center for

premium viticulture. The Judean Hills, surrounding the city of Jerusalem, is best suited to cool-weather whites like chardonnay while the Negev is similar to Washington’s Columbia Valley—arid enough to require drip irrigation technology before it can produce grapes. Shimshon and Sharon are somewhat Central Valley-esque in that they produce workhorse grapes and mostly uninspired wines.

Meanwhile, wine remains as much a Judeo-Christian imperative as any tradition; venerable, vibrant, and with full blessing from On High.

At this time of year, isn’t it best to take our cues from that direction?

KOSHER WINES TASTING NOTES:

First Cup: Bartenura Moscato, Italy, 2008, about $12: Light, low in alcohol, slightly frizzy; a perfect aperitif wine, especially when served ice cold. Sweet, with new grass and honeysuckle on the nose, ripe pear and nectarine throughout.

Second Cup: Recanati Sauvignon Blanc Reserve, Kerem Ben Zimra, 2007, about $26: Well-drained volcanic soil

and mature vines result in a concentrated, tropical sauvignon blanc that’s enchanting and intense. Fresh with grapefruit, lychee and kiwi fruit; said (by those who claim to know) to be reflective of Israeli’s unique terroir.

Third Cup: Golan Heights Winery, Cabernet Sauvignon, Galilee, 2005, about $30: Vibrant violet and filled with complex aromas of black currant suffused with truffle, chocolate, pipe tobacco and toasted walnut. Approachable now; likely improvements for a decade.

Fourth Cup: Tzuba Late Harvest Chardonnay, Kibbutz Tzuba, Israel, n/v, about $26: A new kid on a very old block, Tzuba released its first vintage in 2005. Few wineries can (or want to) produce late harvest chard, but this is a nicely sweet, brightly acidic dessert wine filled with pear, apricot, honey and apple notes—all things chardonnay, but wrapped in a sugary overcoat.

Elijah’s Cup: Who cares? Pour something from Dry Creek Vineyards; they used to have a winemaker’s apprentice called Elijah Rinn.