Kam to the fact that the wine was important in our family history (memories from our youth) and was closely connected to the Einsiedeln monastery at that time. This is also a remarkable story. In the meantime, the monastery (again) makes its own Leutschner and the memories of our youth have almost faded.
Now I was at the birthday party with my family at the "Luegete", an excellent restaurant high above Lake Zurich. And there I once again encountered the Leutschner, the wine I had already (almost) forgotten. The "Leutsch" and the "Luegete" are very close to each other and I have long since made it a habit to order a local wine in the restaurant whenever possible. That's how the Leutschner - of course (as in the past) the one from Kümin - ended up on the table.
I admit: in the meantime I have become far more critical when it comes to wine. Nostalgia no longer has the meaning it once did, even nice memories in terms of wine have to stand up to what I like to call - not without necessary self-confidence - quality. And? Could it stand up? Yes and no! Yes, because at that moment I could not imagine a greater pleasure than drinking this local wine with the excellent meal (boeuf stroganoff). I can almost see down to the vineyard where it grows. And it exudes a lot of local colour, but is nevertheless (or perhaps precisely because of that) a wine that can give pleasure.
For a long time I said "country wine" somewhat contemptuously. Now I am happy to be in the countryside and to drink a wine that smells lightly of raspberries and black cherries, which has nothing whatsoever of what is almost always given to wine today through sophisticated vinification, barrel ageing, concentration and I don't know what else. No, it can't hold its own in this concert of wines. But in my glass it grows - actually not noticed by anyone else - into a personality.
But is there still a residue of nostalgia? I can't quite deny it.