Spring is a confusing season, particularly where I live in the northeastern U.S. In just the first few days of spring this year, our weather was sunny with highs over 60, followed by nights with lows that dropped below freezing. We’ve been stuck inside from flood-inducing torrential rains, and then came some gorgeous warm and clear days that demanded to get you out of the house.

When it comes to food-and-wine pairings, spring can be equally confusing. Classic spring vegetables—asparagus, artichokes, radishes, and radicchio—are famously difficult to match with any wine. For other signals of the season such as peas, fava beans, spring beets, dandelions, strawberries, and rhubarb, a go-to wine does not immediately leap to mind. Likewise, has anyone ever figured out the best wine to pair with the oh-so-trendy ramps that you find on hip menus at this time of year?

For those who celebrate (and who eat meat) there is the pairing conundrum of the classic Easter ham. We’ll certainly see food media trying to make spring lamb happen. Many of us look forward to this time of year for halibut season. Going a little further off the typical menu, and potentially offending more delicate sensibilities, I once made the case in an essay—called “Eating the Easter Bunny”—that rabbit is the apotheosis of a spring dish, “elemental and herbaceous, like early spring itself.”

Many wine people recommend a white like Austrian Grüner Veltliner for all of this fare. And, sure, that works just fine. But if we really think about spring food in its totality, there is a place for a certain kind of red that can pair with a time of year populated with pesto and lentils and pasta primavera. A red that makes you want to break the old “white wine with fish” rules for that halibut.

The spring red wine is—as with the rabbit—elemental and herbaceous. Something light bodied, but with some tannic structure. A red that’s fresh and juicy, perhaps with notes of berries, flowers, and fresh herbs, but also some earthiness and minerality. And not a lot of oak, if any. It’s a red that feels perfect on a sunny day, but also when it’s cool and windy. For me, spring reds—again, as with the rabbit—take you slightly off the beaten path. Perhaps something like Grignolino from Piedmont, pale and light but with a backbone, or Blaufränkisch from Burgenland without too much barrel aging, or a juicy, native Catalan variety like Trepat. 

I had precisely this kind of red a couple weeks ago at the spring portfolio tasting held by the noted importers Jenny & François. This was a bright, drinkable Pinot Noir from Alsace, the 2022 Les Vins Pirouettes “Rouge Litron de Fabrice” ($30). Les Vins Pirouettes is an association of Alsatian natural winemakers, and this one was made by Domaine Wassler. Rouge Litron, with seven days of skin maceration and aged only in stainless steel. It gracefully rides the light line between a red and a rosé—it’s tart and chalky, with aromas and flavors of bright wild berry.

At the same tasting, I was introduced to the wines of Celler 9+, from Tarragona province in Catalonia, Spain. I was particularly taken by their 2021 Celler 9+ Model Selecció 4T, made with the native Sumoll grape, which I mentioned a few weeks ago in my report about New Spain. It was such a thrilling balance of juicy fruit, earthiness, electric acidity, and cool minerality. 

At a slightly higher price point, my perennial choice for a spring red comes from Austria’s Burgenland, a blend of Zweigelt and Cabernet Franc: 2021 Christian Tschida Kapitel I ($50). I had this wine again recently. It’s deceptively complex. At first there’s a rustic funk that suggests “natty,” but this Tschida quickly evolves into something incredibly elegant, with great tension at mid-palate and a balancing act of juicy acidity and intense white and black pepper notes. It’s got a bit of aging in larger, old barrels, which gives it heft for the cool spring days, without compromising gulpability. This is your ramps wine. But it also can be your pesto, artichoke, halibut, or rabbit wine.

It's the perfect wine for this confusing season. As are all of the following.

Six More Spring Reds

Burgenland, Austria

2022 Rosi Schuster Sankt Laurent ($26)

Sankt Laurent is a native grape to Austria’s Burgenland, thought to be related to Pinot Noir, crossed with another unknown variety. It’s finicky, but winemaker Hannes Schuster’s version is fresh and mineral, bursting with notes of cherry and berry, underlying earthiness, silky tannins, and a long finish. It's definitely a spring red wine.

2022 Markus Altenburger "Cric" Blaufränkisch ($27)

Pure, joyful expression of Blaufränkisch, Burgenland’s top grape. From younger vines in Altenburger’s top vineyard, aged in large (1000 liter) used casks, which impart a light touch. This is fresh and fruity, aromatic and graceful, with elegant tannins and a great finish.

Catalonia, Spain

2022 Josep Foraster "Julieta" Trepat ($30)

The Trepat grape, from Catalonia, feels of the moment, and I was blown away by the Trepat wines of Josep Foraster at Barcelona Wine Week. Glou-glou and gulpable, but complex—lively but elegant, full of tension. This is the definition of a spring red.

2021 Terroir Sense Fronteres "Vèrtebra de la Figuera" ($50)

This label is a project of Dominik Huber, whose Terroir al Límit wines are among the most sought-after wines of Priorat. This Garnacha-based red from Montsant, just over the border from Priorat, is fresh, fruity, and delicate, with notes of pretty flowers and herbs. This is from a different galaxy from your typical high-alcohol Grenache, and displays much more finesse. Collectors with the coin should look for Huber’s top Montsant expression, Guix Vermell, which runs about $350.

Italy

2021 Iuli "Natalin" ($22)

Made from 100 percent Grignolino, the ancient Piedmont variety that’s making a comeback around Monferrato and Asti. Light ruby in the glass, with a savory, earthy nose and flavors of cherry and blackberry, and lively, elegant tannins.

2021 Ancarani Centesimino ($23)

Tasted this delicious wine last week at the Slow Wine event in New York. Centesimino is a red variety native to Emilia-Romagna that was thought to be Grenache until the 1970s. Ancarani’s version is quirky and rustic, redolent of cherry, rose, and spring herbs, with an underlying saltiness and lively tannins.