At the time of glugging - and I seriously do mean gallons - I thought that I was just going along with the others so as not to offend, but drink it I did in quantity, never really complaining. This was the standard retsina of Attica (the area around Athens) from Kourtaki, textbook stuff, typically unsubtle and in-your-face resinated, which chilled was surprisingly agreeable (hindsight rewriting history here) with the Greek/Cypriot food served at Lemonia. Hell, it must have been or at some point I would have demurred and ordered something else; I never did. On one memorable occasion Athens the tail end of the previous century we started eating and drinking around 1:30 pm, were still at it a about 4:30 when they finished the lunchtime service and closed for an hour and a half, yet still there when they reopened for evening service at around 6:00. We left, I think, around 7:30 after 6 or 8 (or maybe 10) bottles of the aforementioned mainly between the three of us. Nobody forced me, you understand, it was a great afternoon/evening filled with laughter, sort of memorable (I don't remember details, unsurprisingly!), so I must have enjoyed myself - and the retsina.
Still, I never expected I'd actually be interested in the stuff in any intellectual way. But, confession time, I am, for a funny, roundabout reason, it being the Savatiano grape variety that you will see mentioned on this blog again and again. In my humble opinion it is the next great grape variety from Greece to woo international wine lovers after the glorious Assyrtiko and its cohorts Athiri and Aidani, so beautifully showcased in Santorini white wines. Savatiano is prevalent in the Attic vineyards, traditional in retsina and too subtle to attract the average wine drinker, so until recently it has featured as an indifferent high-yield glugger and has been largely ignored. Not any more, boys and girls, as certain producers have taken to looking after it properly, limiting yields and making concentrated, still subtle but multi-layered, proper wines with real potential. And the attention to detail has spread to retsina, with interesting results.
Resin in ancient times was added to the wine as a preservative, because there was no way to protect the wine placed in amphorae from the harmful effects of contact with air - even sealed in some way they were never entirely airtight - and not as a modification of the taste, or so we must assume given that, inconsiderately, no ancient Greeks have either survived to explain otherwise or have bequeathed detailed production/tasting notes to posterity. Modern versions add it purely for the taste but it remains a minority sport, ignored by most as uncouth and yucky.It is not so, I must tell you, dear friends, as your intrepid taster has been fortunate to discover. Even the Kourtaki version now offers a degree of complexity and character that makes it enticing, with others producing even more subtle versions, with the resin complementing the Savatiano character admirably. So admirably, indeed, that I have found myself on occasion seeking out retsina for pleasure at home and, no, it is not a sign of losing my sense of taste due to Covid-19. There are now several new-wave wines featuring resin, some even small-scale and with single vineyard status, offering character and style in harmony with complexity and, even, subtlety!
Retsina may never be to everyone's taste, but that is not necessarily a bad thing, as it has lots of character and, if well made, even class. It can be not only pleasurable but, actually, a great accompaniment to many strong-tasting Greek dishes. And, being unfashionable, it will by and large keep your pocket happy too. One of these days I'll do a comparative tasting of several Retsina versions and let you have the results, in order to help guide you to the one you'll like the best.
