The Irish winter has been uncharacteristically mild so far. There’s almost a whiff of spring in the air, even though it is still only mid – January. And we’re not the only ones who have been enjoying the milder weather, as most of Europe and North America is experiencing something similar. A sign of a good summer to come? Let’s hope so.

While most of us are making the best of the favourable conditions, many of the northern hemisphere’s Icewine producers are cursing their luck. Temperatures have not fallen low enough to harvest for Icewine, or Eiswein as it is known in Europe. The production of Icewine in Europe, the United States and Canada is expected to be small compared to previous vintages, and many producers are expecting to lose large yields reserved specifically for the sticky sweet wine.

In order for grapes to be harvested in the right condition, temperatures must fall to at least -7C. With such mild weather leading up to harvest, many bunches have been affected by noble rot at such an advanced stage that temperatures need to fall as low as -10C if there is any hope of recovery. It’s not looking like that is going to happen.

Icewine production is down by at least 40% in northern United States and Canada. In Niagara, the harvest has also been adversely affected by a wet autumn, forcing growers to pick Riesling grapes early, thus leaving nothing for Icewine production.

2011 was the smallest Icewine harvest since 2000 and all the indicators would suggest 2012 will be smaller again. With supply falling, some of the more fortunate wineries may be tempted to increase prices, although price was never the main obstacle for followers of Icewine – availability is, and will continue to be. With weather patterns looking more uncertain with each passing year, 2012 may not be the last year that these winemakers are going to want to forget.

Credit to Mr. Sloth himself, Paul Kiernan, for giving me the heads up on this story at a recent wine tasting. As Decanter reported, Spanish icewines can now be produced under the DO of Penedès, but significantly it is the first European appellation to allow the artificial freezing of grapes. “Cryoextraction” or mechanical freezing, simulates the effects of frost. These wines are often called ‘icebox’ wines. I’m not taking anything away from Penedès of course – I have yet to try any from this region so I reserve my judgement.

A tweet or two on Twitter Friday past galvanized a few thoughts on Canadian icewine, and specifically if it would have much of a demand in the Irish market…

@climatech – if bud can do so well here (cold and alchohlic), I’d say yes…I’d be a willing guinea pig!

@sashaw – a Canadian Ice Wine barely sells in Canada. But, we do have the currency exchange in our favour here.

@lisamareedom – no; Irish like tablewine on the sweet side. Wouldn’t get it.

My first taste of ice wine was in Canada. Later, in New Zealand, I tried the awarding winning Siedfried Riesling icewine. It was astonishing and my most memorable to date.

So what is icewine?

Also known as Eiswein in Germany, icewine is a type of dessert wine. Lusciously sweet, savagely drinkable and very bad for your teeth, icewines are made using grapes that have frozen while still on the vine. Importantly, the grapes are allowed to sit on the vine for a prolonged period.

As we know, a banana or a pear that has been maturing in the fruit bowl will taste much sweeter than one that is not ready to eat. As the grapes age, the sugar content rises, and this is all a few weeks after the harvest takes place for normal wines.

In the case of icewine, the matured grapes are picked while they are frozen on the vine. This is where the risk lies. If a freeze doesn’t come quickly enough, the grapes might rot and the crop is lost. If the freeze is too severe, there is no juice to be extracted.

Parts of Germany and Canada receive the perfect climatic conditions, allowing enough time for the grapes to develop high levels of sugar before it gets too cold. The best icewines capture the point when the sugar and acid levels balance almost perfectly, and if made well enough, will show in the final wine.

For me, dessert wines remain the wine world’s best kept secret. For many people however, I suspect sweet wine brings back bad memories of Concorde and Blue Nun. (For those born after 1980, no I’m not referring to supersonic aircraft or Mother Theresa telling dirty jokes, but the cheap and sickly sweet wines that attracted, then quickly repelled, so many novice wine drinkers in the 80s).

The reality today is that some of the world’s finest, and correspondingly expensive, wines are the highly specialised, super-concentrated and exquisitely-balanced dessert wines of Sauternes, Tokaji, or even the depths of the Canadian winter.

Fine dessert wines are typically made by one of the following methods:

• Botrytis or ‘noble rot’: a rare condition requiring a series of specific conditions in which the fungus botrytis cinerea attacks healthy and fully ripe grapes. The resulting rot causes the grapes to shrivel and produce the most incredible concentration of sugars and acids. Botrytised wines such as Villard’s El Noble Sauvignon Blanc and Keith Tulloch’s Semillon show that critical balance of sweetness and acidity referred to in last week’s post on the tasting senses.
• Late picking: often labelled ‘Late Harvest’ as in Tabali’s Muscat, and in the right climate rivalling botrytised wines for sheer concentration of flavour, grapes are left on the vine for as long as possible to concentrate the grape juice naturally.
• Drying the grapes: in the same principle as late harvesting for concentration of juices, Italy’s sweet red Recioto wines are produced by picking the ripe grapes and drying until shrivelled before pressing.
• Freezing the grapes: Canada, Germany, Austria, and most recently New Zealand all produce the incredible delicacy of ice wine (or Eiswein), with New Zealand’s Siefried and Canada’s Inniskillen proving stunning examples in recent personal tastings.

Good dessert wines don’t tend to come cheap, and that’s mostly down to the labour-intensive processes outlined above, and the often tiny yields that get produced. Inniskillen as an example claim that each frozen grape contributes just one drop of grape nectar to the finished wine.

But trust me as I let slip our best kept secret, these dessert wines have to be experienced. And if you’re struggling to justify a little luxury in the current doom-and-gloom, let me pass on the advice of a more experienced work colleague on the birth of my first child: “From now on Mike”, he said, “always fly First Class. Because if you don’t your son-in-law will.”

Dessert anyone?