White wine is the bleached, soulless tonic of joiners and dilettantes. White wine is a defensive drink, the set of one that remains after all the more libidinous alcoholic beverages are removed. Without tannin or color its sweetness is oppressive. White wine is simultaneously gaudy and sterile. It is “Productivity.” It is “Wine Lite,” and therefore a lie.
White wine is steel piano wire nervously percussed by antique geologies. There is nowhere in white wine to hide. It is severe like Kirkegaard and his Russian school. White wine is precisely beautiful like Beethoven’s Waldstein sonata. Remorseless like Ceasar, white wine speaks with hard “S”s. It’s teeth are brushed with green tea and they are made of stone.
White wine is a friendly party drink. A catch all with class. White wine is loved by elderly neighbors, the ones who always seem to be smiling, and is invaluable to deep thinking designers burning the midnight oil. It promotes clarity and moderation. It is background wine. It flatters a vegetable-based board and effortlessly follows yoga practice.
2013 Südtirol Pinot Bianco/Weißburgunder, Tiefenbrunner
This wine is made efficiently in virtually unlimited quantities. It is tasty. I’ve never seen an open bottle of it last beyond a session.
Maybe the bottles are too small.
this youthfully fresh wine makes an elegant impression. Clear, bright yellow in colour, its nose exhibits fine floral and fruit aromas: hints of apple and tropical fruit are prevalent in the bouquet. An agreeable, fresh acidity accompanies this mineral wine through its fine harmonious finish.
Embedded in white wine one can find verdant pastures, outdoor café society, birds fat on bugs, wagon wheels, and play.
In the darkest part of winter white wine symbolizes sunlight.
Happy winter solstice.