Glassware

Pouring Cotnari for the first time, people often reach for the wrong glass. A large, round-bellied glass seems generous. But it wastes an aroma that's already concentrated, letting it simply dissipate into open air before you can properly nose it and pick out the flavors.

A narrow, tulip-shaped glass with a short stem channels the fine aromas before they reach the nose. Honey, dried apricot, candied peel, a hint of acacia blossom: the narrow opening holds this layer together instead of spreading it across a wide surface. Only a small pour is needed—rarely more than five centiliters. At around thirteen percent alcohol and over two hundred sixty grams of sugar per liter, that's more than enough.

Cotnari's dry siblings call for a different glass. A dry-style Fetească Albă or Frâncușă tastes better in a slightly wider white wine glass, since the more delicate apple and hay notes otherwise struggle to unfold. Poured into too narrow a glass, such a wine suddenly falls flat.

Temperature matters at least as much as glass shape. Served too cold, honey and apricot hide completely behind the chill, and the wine tastes of nothing but sweetness. Among connoisseurs, eight to ten degrees Celsius is considered the ideal range for Cotnari's noble-rot wines. Fridge-cold is clearly too cold.

The acidity in Grasă de Cotnari keeps the wine pleasantly fresh in the mouth despite its sweetness. But that only works if the glass gives it room. A glass that's too narrow and curves inward pushes alcohol and sweetness to the front, letting acidity fade into the background. The basic rule, then: keep the shape slender, but not too tight at the rim, so sweetness, acidity, and aroma arrive in balance.