It’s “Reese-ling”, Not “Rize-ling” |

First thing first: say the name right: Riesling is pronounced “reese-ling,” not “reez-ling” or “rize-ling.”
Riesling is a paradoxical grape. Its reputation has been tarnished over the last few decades due to the proliferation of cheap, tooth-furringly sweet plonk; in addition, many New World producers affixed the name “Riesling” to a range of other, low-quality varieties.
Cheap Riesling is often unfortunately used as an introductory grape to wean the soda pop crowd into serious wine-drinking, yet the good stuff occupies a hallowed place in the roster of great wines; connoisseurs laud its ability to transmit terroir and its long-term aging capability (more impressive when you consider that most whites are best consumed within two years of being made).
Germany, the motherland of Riesling, has a rich, centuries-old history. It produces Rieslings of all styles and quality levels, from the lowliest Liebfraumilch (code for “cheap ’n’ sweet”) to the highest Trockenbeerenauslese. (Try saying that five times fast.) The majority of German Rieslings contain some degree of residual sugar, which in good wines is natural and offset by the grapes’ zesty acidity. There are also layers upon layers of aromas and flavours, the most common being apples, stone fruits, flowers, and citrus—especially grapefruit. Petrol (which is just a fancy way of describing the aroma of rubber boots and other petroleum products) is also common and is especially prominent in older Rieslings, which can smell positively gasoline-like.
German wine labels rank among the most difficult to decipher, unless you speak the language and/or aren’t intimidated by words as long as your arm. However, the word “Riesling” always appears on the label if it’s in the bottle, so if you can spot that you’re halfway there. After that, ignore everything else and look for the following terms: “Trocken” signifies a dry wine, “Kabinett” means off-dry, “Spätlese” means half-sweet, and “Auslese” is quite sweet. Note that these designations have nothing to do with quality, only sugar content. Perhaps unsurprisingly given their affection for sweetness, Germans make fantastic dessert wines. Some are late harvest (Beerenauslese), others are the result of botrytis/noble rot (Trockenbeerenauslese), and still others are made from frozen grapes (Eiswein, or “ice wine”—and the Germans, not Canadians, get credit for inventing it).
Jump across the border from Germany and you’ll find Alsace. Though it lies very close to Germany, the Rieslings that get made here are usually very different in style; while aromatic and perfumed, they are also typically bone-dry. The exceptions are Alsace’s rare, expensive dessert wines: Vendange-Tardive, made from late harvest grapes, and Sélection de Grains Nobles, made from grapes affected by botrytis.
On the other side of Germany is Austria, another Old World country with a great climate for Riesling. These wines tend to be dry and more full-bodied than their German cousins, with very concentrated aromas and flavours. The best ones come from the Wachau region.
Moving into the New World, it should come as no surprise that Australia, being the behemoth wine-producing nation that it is, has the largest vineyard area devoted to Riesling. Since this variety tends to fare better in cooler climates, the best examples come from the Clare and Eden Valleys. I often find traces of lime in Australian Riesling, along with some minerals, good acidity, and a dry (but not bone-dry) palate.
Though New Zealand’s Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay are far more significant to that country’s wine output than Riesling, the grape does grow fairly well here. I’m especially fond of those from the Canterbury region, which couple some residual sugar with fantastic aromatics and great acidity, making for some eminently quaffable wines.
Last but certainly not least, Riesling has found a welcome home in Canada. The vine is quite hardy and capable of bearing the brunt of our frigid winters (which is more than I can say for myself). The Niagara region tends to produce better quality Rieslings than the Okanagan, as the latter is simply too warm and the grapes lose that edge of zesty acidity that makes them so appealing. Niagara Rieslings have the classic aromas of flowers, citrus, and petrol, along with a wide range of sweetness levels.
Riesling pairs very well with many types of food, thanks in large part to its high level of acidity. The drier versions pair well with summer fare—everything from grilled vegetables and salads to seafood and barbecued pork. It also works well with greasy and fatty foods, like duck, goose, pâté, and even fried chicken. Appetizers of all kinds, from the informal cheese-and-cracker plate to the most elaborate antipasto platter, can be enhanced by a nice cold glass of Riesling. If you like some heat, the sweeter versions stand up to spicy fare; try a German Auslese with Thai stirfry or a Spätlese with Indian curry.
Finally, Riesling also works well with other Asian cuisines, particularly the range of opposing flavours in Chinese dishes. At last: a wine to pair with sweet and sour pork.