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Sarah, Oy!’s own kosher wine expert

Kosher wine.

For many of us, those two small words pack a big, sweet, grapey, syrupy, low-alcohol, Manischevitz-endorsed punch. We have memories of tasting it for the first time in elementary school—at synagogue, at Bubbe’s seder, at cousin Bobby’s bar mitzvah—and either loving it (“Yummy, tastes like grape Nerds!”) or loathing it (“Yuck, this stuff tastes like Robitussin!”).

Then something changed. All of a sudden, Jewish teenagers and young adults, tall and short, rural and urban, Reform and Conservative, latke fans and hamentaschen aficionados, found themselves standing in solidarity against one modern-day Haman.

Kosher wine.

My quest for swillable kosher vino started during college when I hosted seders for (almost exclusively) non-Jewish peers. I was hell-bent on showing these folks that there was good kosher (and kosher for Passover at that!) wine to be had. Most of my friends didn’t understand why I was so hung up on the kosher issue. “What’s the big deal?” they’d ask. “Who cares if a rabbi didn’t bless the grapes or whatever, wine is wine.” Or I’d hear, “it’s not like there’s pig’s blood in non-kosher wine, so drink up!”

These are only two examples that show just how misunderstood kosher wine is, and I continue to hear them to this day. So it is with enthusiasm and (a bit of a hangover) that I dispel some common myths about kosher wine, and introduce you to two summer-worthy bottles that friends and I tasted in the spirit of Oy!

Kosher wine starts off just like any other wine. Grapes are inherently kosher, and grapes of many different varietals, from the super bitter Concord grapes that go into the stereotypical Manischevitz wines, to Pinot Grigio, Merlot, Shiraz, Chardonnay, and others, are grown in vineyards across the globe, from the US to Israel, Italy to Australia. But unlike non-kosher wines, there are extra restrictions on what equipment can be used in the winery, who can touch the product and how it can be purified.

Some fast facts:

• All wine production is under strict rabbinical supervision, and observant Jews do all work (many producers employ the ultra-Orthodox for this reason).
• The equipment used to crush, refine and bottle the wines must be rabbinically certified.
• No non-kosher ingredients, including yeasts and other purifying agents, may be used to make kosher wine. This becomes an important distinction because there are times when non-kosher wineries use gelatin, casein, isinglass, and yes, even ox blood, in the fining process.
• No preservatives or artificial coloring may be added to kosher wine.
• All kosher wines are vegetarian, though not all are necessarily vegan (albumin may sometimes be used in the fining process).

From the time the grapes are growing in the vineyard through consumption, kosher wine must be handled exclusively by Jews, otherwise it becomes un-kosher. There is one exception to this: mevushal wine.

Depending on whom you ask, “mevushal” means “cooked,” “boiled,” or “pasteurized.” Mevushal wines used to be heated to 185 degrees Fahreinheit for 22 seconds, but are now usually flash pasteurized. This additional step of flash pasteurization allows the wine to maintain its structure and integrity while still rendering it mevushal. Once a wine is mevushal, it can be handled by anyone, regardless of religious observance, and still be kosher.

So there you have it. Yes, there are a few differences between kosher and non-kosher winemaking processes, but for the most part the kosher wines are simply more naturally produced. Could my friends and I taste the difference? Here’s what we thought of two summery white wines: Galil Mountain 2006 Chardonnay and Bartenura 2007 Pinot Grigio.

First up, the Galil Mountain Chardonnay. It’s from the higher elevations of the Upper Galilee, part of the Galil viticultural area, which is considered the best in Israel. Bright yellow in color, it was fruity on the nose, with hints of apricot. On first sip, it was slightly thick but still a bit soft and tasted of honey and pineapple. Further along we got a slightly effervescent, citrusy kick. We couldn’t agree on whether it was lime or kumquat. There was some definite butter in this chardonnay, and some oak but it was pretty mild. If you drink this wine I hope you like it, because it has a very long finish to it.

All in all, we didn’t dislike it. One of us generally has a strong distaste for Chardonnay, but found this one passable.

The verdict: If you like Chardonnay in general, and don’t mind some sweetness and fruit in your wine, give this a shot.

Now onto the Bartenura Pinot Grigio. Bet you didn’t know they made kosher wine in Italy, did you? According to the bottle, this one hails “from the sunny hillsides of Lombardia,” which is home to Milan and the superswanky Lake Como in the north of Italy. This wine didn’t have much nose or much color to it—“a good Shabbat wine, since you’re not supposed to work on Shabbat, if you spill this you really can wait until the Monday morning dry cleaning run,” a friend said. It was crisper than the Chardonnay, and dry but not overly so. It had a mild tartness to it and definite mineral and vegetal tastes, along with some green apple. Further into the glass it had a slightly astringent alcohol smell, but it didn’t overwhelm us. This had a slightly shorter finish than the Chard and was pretty well balanced.

Of the two wines we tasted, we definitely preferred the Pinot Grigio but that could be because we tend to like drier wines in general.

But I’m proud to say that I managed to find drinkable—even enjoyable—kosher wines with no discernable difference between them and any other moderately priced non-kosher bottles.

So, here’s to summer, L’chaim!

Both wines were purchased at Sam’s Wine and Spirits on Roosevelt Road for under $15 each. For a wider selection of kosher wines, swing by the Binny’s at Clark and Wellington.