Foreign cash pumps new life into Tokaj

Wines & Vines, March, 2002 by Susan Low

Szepsy is also experimenting with oaking techniques. Unlike most other producers, Szepsy both ferments and ages his Tokajis in oak barrels. It is, he says, all part of the Tokaji tradition. "Oak makes the aroma more complex," he says. "I think it is also part of the tradition. For centuries, Tokaji wines were fermented and aged in new oak. It's part of the Tokaji taste."

Debates about how Tokaji is meant to taste are nothing new to the region, of course. When foreign investment started to pour in, there was concern that the flavor of "true" Tokaji was getting swept away in the process of change. Thomas Laszlo explains: "In Tokaj, there's this huge debate about reductive versus oxidative styles. When the 'new' Aszus first appeared, there was a real difference between what the newly privatized companies were making and what the state was making."

The state wines, in keeping with what the former Soviet market expected of them, were brown and sweet. The newer style showed the sort of elegance that the international market for sweet wine (such as it is) would expect of, say, Sauternes--something lighter, fresher and cleaner. "But all of these wines pick up some oxidation with age," Laszlo points out. "After five years, all the wines have some meaningful amount of oxidation. It's just the nature of the grape varieties and the fact that the maceration process (see box) is by its very nature oxidative. Some people get that typical Tokaji flavor quickly by putting their wine in barrels, others slowly by aging theirs in bottle."

Late Harvest Wines

So, the "reductive v. oxidative" issue has turned out to be something of a storm in a teacup, but there is another battle being fought in Tokaj.

This one centers around the making of late-harvest sweet wines, rather than Aszu wines, which are made only from Botrytis-affected grapes. Some people, such as Ben Howkins, one of the administrators of The Royal Tokaji Wine Company, believe that producing late-harvest styles muddies the water between what is and what is not traditional in the region.

Others, such Szepsy, believe that pushing at the boundaries is all part of the re-learning process that has come about since 1991. And, as Laszlo argues, it may just get the wine-drinking public, which may never have heard of "Aszu" and doesn't have a clue what a "put-tonyo" is, to try the sweet wines of the region. "The experienced tasters might know Aszu, but for less experienced consumers, the bottles and labeling (of traditional Tokaji) are unfamiliar and confusing," he argues.

The past decade has been an exciting one in Tokaji; the region has changed in ways that the previous generation could only have imagined in their wildest dreams. Selling sweet wines to a largely unappreciative audience is hard work, without a doubt. But the people who have invested in Tokaj--either from Hungary or from abroad--can't help but feel that they're part of something special. "It's an exciting time to be here, bringing together French and Hungarian winemakers and rediscovering a national treasure," Laszlo says.