Tokaj: Hungary's Quietly Remarkable Wine Revival

A friend who spends half her year in Budapest brought us a bottle of dry Furmint last autumn. She said, rather apologetically, that it was just something she had grabbed at Liszt Ferenc airport on the way out. We poured it with a roast chicken, expecting pleasant. What came out of the glass stopped the conversation for thirty seconds. High-tensile acidity, something between green apple and beeswax, a mineral spine you could almost feel in your teeth, a finish that kept developing long after the swallow. It was from István Szepsy. We have been thinking about Tokaj ever since.

Tokaj is the sort of wine region most Americans have vaguely heard of but could not place on a map. It sits in the north-east corner of Hungary, pressed up against the Slovak border where the Zemplén hills give way to the Hungarian plain. Volcanic soils and the twin rivers, the Bodrog and the Tisza, create a microclimate that encourages botrytis cinerea, the noble rot that shrivels grapes into concentrated raisins of sugar and acid. This is where Aszú was born, very probably the world's first deliberately sweet wine, and where Louis XIV reportedly called Tokaji the wine of kings, the king of wines.

A History That Nearly Killed It

Tim's historian instincts come out a bit when we talk about Tokaj, because the story has real teeth. By the late seventeenth century Tokaji Aszú was being shipped in barrels to the courts of Versailles, St Petersburg and Vienna. It was classified and graded a full century before the Bordeaux classification of 1855. Then came phylloxera in the 1880s, two world wars, and forty years of Soviet collectivisation which reduced the great vineyards to bulk production for the Eastern Bloc. When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, Tokaj was a shadow of what it had been.

What has happened since is one of the most interesting wine-region rebirths of the past forty years. Foreign investment arrived in the 1990s, most notably from Hugh Johnson and the consortium that became Royal Tokaji, and from the Álvarez family of Vega Sicilia, who now own Oremus. Hungarian families who had kept records through the communist years began reclaiming their old plots. A new generation led by István Szepsy and his son of the same name began proving that Furmint on its own, vinified dry, was not just good but potentially world-class.

The Grapes

Furmint is the backbone of Tokaj, a late-ripening white with ferocious natural acidity and a peculiar ability to concentrate sugar whilst holding on to that acid through the ageing process. Picked early and vinified dry, it gives wines of Chablis-like intensity with a volcanic-soil tang and a capacity to age for decades. Picked late and allowed to succumb to botrytis, the same grape yields Aszú.

Hárslevelű, literally "linden leaf", is the secondary grape. Rarer, more aromatic, with notes of orange blossom and beeswax. It is often blended with Furmint in Aszú bottlings to add perfume and complexity. A few producers make varietal Hárslevelű that is worth seeking out.

Sárga Muskotály and Zéta round out most Aszú blends, used in small proportions for lift and a floral, grapey note that complements the density of the Furmint.

What to Actually Drink

For a dry Furmint that will change how you think about Hungarian wine, start with Royal Tokaji's Dry Furmint or, if you can track it down, Szepsy's Szent Tamás bottling. The Szepsy has a purity and tension that is startling at its price point ($35 to $50 in the US). Disznőkő's Dry Furmint is more widely distributed and lands around $25, a proper introduction to what the dry style can do.

For Aszú, which is where most drinkers meet Tokaj, the traditional grading runs in "puttonyos" from 3 through 6, based on the concentration of botrytised berries. Since 2013 the minimum has been 5 puttonyos. Royal Tokaji's 5 Puttonyos Aszú, usually $45 to $60 for a half-bottle, is a reliable starting point: honeyed apricot and orange peel with saving acidity that stops it ever feeling cloying. The wine that bowled us over last year was Oremus Aszú 5 Puttonyos, with a precision and restraint more akin to a great Riesling Auslese than the heavier Aszús of old.

For something truly unusual, track down a bottle of Szamorodni, the region's other botrytised style, made from whole bunches rather than selected berries. Samuel Tinon, a Frenchman who moved to Tokaj in the 1990s, makes a dry Szamorodni aged under a film of flor yeast that drinks like a cross between aged Chenin and fino sherry. It is extraordinary with hard cheeses and roasted almonds.

At the Table

Dry Furmint is one of the most versatile whites we stock. It cuts through fat, flatters shellfish, does remarkable things with roast chicken or anything involving lemon and butter. We have poured it alongside our Santa Barbara Chardonnays and watched people guess Burgundy, Chablis, Savoie, everywhere but Hungary.

For Aszú, the classic pairing is foie gras or a blue cheese, but do not stop there. A 5 Puttonyos with a salt-crusted almond tart, or sipped solo as a meditation after dinner, is one of the great pleasures of the wine world. The acid line means it never feels heavy the way a lesser sweet wine can.

Frequently Asked Questions

Is Tokaji always sweet?

No. Until the 1990s nearly all exported Tokaj was sweet Aszú, which is where the reputation comes from, but dry Furmint is now made across the region and accounts for roughly half of production. Many Hungarians would argue the dry style is the more exciting category today.

How long does Aszú age?

Properly made 5 or 6 Puttonyos Aszú will age for fifty years or more; we have drunk bottles from the 1970s that were still fresh and mineral. Dry Furmint typically drinks best within ten to fifteen years of vintage.

Can I find Tokaj easily in the US?

Availability has improved steadily over the past decade. Royal Tokaji, Disznőkő and Oremus have decent US distribution. The smaller, more interesting producers are harder to track down, which is where we come in. Drop us a line and we will hunt down what you are looking for.

What is "puttonyos"?

Puttonyos refers to the traditional measure of botrytised berries added to the base wine during fermentation. Higher puttonyos means more concentration and sweetness. Since 2013 the Tokaji Aszú category has been limited to 5 Puttonyos and above.

A Note on Sourcing

Tokaj is one of those regions where the gap between the mass-market and the properly interesting is unusually wide. The commodity Aszú at a large liquor store can be thin and lacking the mineral tension that makes the style work. The bottles we carry come from smaller estates we have tasted through and found to meet our standards on both quality and value.

If you are curious about Tokaj, or have a bottle you remember from a trip that we should look for, write to us. We ship directly to your door anywhere in the continental US, and our wine club is the simplest way to receive a rotating selection of unusual whites and dessert wines. Drop us a line.