Drinking Locally
When I shuffled into Prague’s New Town Hall a few months ago, I had a hunch this was a drastically different wine fair. And as I tasted through the ranges, my instincts were validated. Here was a gamut of wines: some buttoned-up yet provocative, some racy, others zesty and party-ready. These wines effortlessly “Czeched” every box. It was then I realized, if I lived in Czech Republic’s wine-producing powerhouse Moravia, I could happily survive on only local wine.
But I live in Germany, where the options are plentiful. German wine is often stellar. But so is wine from Italy and Slovenia and France and Georgia and Greece. And as the country that imports the most wine by volume it is clear Germany’s wine preferences are rooted internationally. On average, German wine drinkers choose domestic options only 35% of the time, and personal preferences aside, that makes me think there are a lot of German wine drinkers who haven’t recently tasted how exciting German wine can be.
The high concentration of outstanding Czech wine made me think: here was a chance for one to sip to their heart’s content without leaving the confines of the country. And as many of us are altering our everyday lives to make whatever reduction we can on climate change, focusing on locality could become an impactful goal.
“It’s more than just local - it relies on microseasons and is an extension of thinking locally”
In the sometimes showy world of wine, international bottles are praised. If you’ve had wine from the far stretches of the earth, remote islands and isolated mountain tops, your palate has a more expansive library of flavors to recall than someone who’s drinking only domestic wine. This feels frivolous. What, if anything, is stopping us from trying to source our drinks from nearby? Certainly not climate change, although it should. CO2 emissions as a result of wine transport account for 68% of wine’s carbon footprint, according to research by viticultural scientist Dr. Richard Smart. So while drinking locally isn’t a cure all, the benefits are hard to ignore.
Berlin’s Die Gemeinschaft, an organization focused on bridging the gap between agriculture and gastronomy, stands by the credo that while location is a valuable factor, there’s more to focus on than geographical proximity. So here was a stark reminder, it’s about finding that balance of sustainability and locality, because I doubt anyone would jump at the chance to drink poorly made wine even if it was made in a winery 10 minutes away.
I chatted with Friederike Gaedke, Executive Director at Die Gemeinschaft, who has seen this topic float to the forefront of discussions more frequently.
“There is a movement of people, especially in mixology, who are interested in wild things and foraging,” Friederike said. “It’s more than just local - it relies on microseasons and is an extension of thinking locally.”
Friederike noticed that some restaurants are making their own schörle - a German spritz containing sparkling water and any kind of juice, but often apple. But when you introduce alcohol into the mix, the issue isn’t as straightforward.
Craft beer’s reputation lends itself to drinking locally, so I thought here’s the chance to really narrow it down to a product that’s inherently more local. Could this be easier to pull off than drinking only local wine? Upon talking to Jan Kemker, brewer and co-owner at Brauerei Kemke Kultuur in Munster, Germany along with his partner Nicole Kemker, the possibilities faded away before my eyes.
“We have a world market for grain. So there's a lot of barley grown in France, Canada and all over Germany which makes it to very few big maltsters. The grain gets mixed up, malted and then traded all over the world again. Then it lands in a brewery where things are also perfectly industrialized, including the [yeast] cultures.”
To change the conversation around what is truly local beer, Brauerei Kemke Kultuur, in collaboration with Frecklinghof organic farm in Tecklenburg, multiplied historic Black Peacock barley. They then have it malted and starting winter 2022 will make all of their beers with their own barley. Historic grains don’t yield as much as the more modern varieties, which explains why they’ve fallen out of fashion with industrial farmers. But Jan explains that the benefits far outweigh the disadvantages.
“If those varieties are not used, they get lost. Then we have a very small gene pool. The historic grains are sometimes better adapted to climate change because the roots can dig deeper into the ground and get more water. They also have more flavor. So it's not just the romantic aspect of growing something old.”
“With your consumption of local products, you can change your local landscape.”
Whipping out a bottle of wine from far flung locales is indeed a cool party trick. But there is room to expand the conversation and reach for locally sourced wine produced in a way that honors a region’s ecosystem.
If ‘how to drink locally’ is the question, cider is one answer. Jan suggests that distinguishing one cider from the next may be just as satisfying as blind tasting wine. A local cider pairing at your next dinner party sounds divine.
Frieda believes it might be possible to shadow another movement that has gained traction in the last few years. “Challenge [nearby establishments]. Ask them, is there an alternative that's local? It happened with nonalcoholic drinks. There are people that are demanding more non-alcoholic alternatives, and I definitely feel there's a shift now.”
Those who frequent their local farmers’ market, can also ask around. Farmers know other farmers, and they may be able to point you in the direction of someone making local organic libations.
Jan seems to agree with me that the accumulation of small changes can have quite the impact. “With your consumption of local products, you can change your local landscape.”
Maybe a shift in my drinking habits will not change the world, but wielding my economic power is certainly a start.
Words by Lauren Johnson
Art by Kayley Parmley
