Combine the flour and egg yolks in the bowl of a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment. Add the olive oil.
Mix on low speed until the dough begins to come together. If the mixture looks too dry and crumbly, add water one teaspoon at a time until the dough begins to form.
Once the dough has come together, switch to the dough hook. Mix on medium speed until the dough is smooth, elastic, and clears the sides of the bowl — about 4–5 minutes. If it is still sticking to the sides, add a small amount of flour; if it seems stiff and dry, add water a teaspoon at a time.
Remove the dough from the bowl, shape into a ball, and wrap tightly in plastic wrap. Rest at room temperature for at least 30 minutes. The dough will relax and become noticeably easier to roll.
Roll, Cut & Cook
Divide the rested dough into thirds. Keep the pieces you are not working with wrapped so they do not dry out.
Flatten one piece with your palm and run it through a pasta machine on the widest setting. Fold the sheet in thirds and run it through again. Repeat 2–3 times until the sheet is smooth.
Continue passing the dough through progressively narrower settings until you reach the desired thickness — setting 4 or 5 on a standard machine for wide noodles suited to a braise. The sheet should be thin but not translucent.
Cut the sheets into wide noodles approximately 2 cm (¾ inch) wide, using a knife or pizza wheel. Drape the cut noodles over a dowel or lay flat on a lightly floured tray.
To cook: bring a large pot of generously salted water to a rolling boil. Add the noodles and cook for 2–3 minutes, tasting at 2 minutes — they should be tender with a slight resistance at the center. Drain, reserving a cup of pasta water.
Toss the drained noodles immediately with a tablespoon of butter and a splash of pasta water if needed to prevent sticking. Season with flaky salt. Serve at once alongside the Coq au Riesling.
Notes
Attribution: This pasta dough is Michael Symon's Egg Pasta Dough — 2 cups '00' flour, 10 large egg yolks, 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil, and water as needed, mixed in a stand mixer. Anne's modification: cut into wide noodles rather than fettuccine or ravioli, to suit the Coq au Riesling braise.Why 10 egg yolks: Symon's recipe uses only yolks — no whole eggs — which produces a dough that is noticeably richer, more golden, and more silky than standard egg pasta. The extra fat from the yolks gives the noodle a luxurious texture that holds up particularly well under a cream sauce. This is not a substitution you want to shortcut.'00' flour vs. all-purpose: '00' flour is milled more finely than all-purpose and produces a smoother, more tender dough. If you cannot find it, all-purpose works — the texture will be slightly less silky but the result is still excellent. Do not use bread flour; the higher protein content makes the dough too elastic and difficult to roll.The rest is not optional: 30 minutes at room temperature allows the gluten to relax fully. Dough that has not rested will spring back when you try to roll it. If you are making this ahead, wrap tightly and refrigerate for up to overnight — bring back to room temperature for 15 minutes before rolling.On thickness: For pairing with a braise, setting 4 on a standard pasta machine gives a noodle with enough body to absorb the sauce without going soft. Setting 5 or 6 produces a thinner noodle better suited to fettuccine or lighter sauces.Make-ahead: Cut noodles can be dried completely (1–2 hours until fully dry to the touch) and stored in an airtight container for up to 2 days, or frozen on a tray and then bagged — cook from frozen, adding 1 minute to the cooking time.Wine Note: Fresh egg pasta is a blank canvas — the wine pairing belongs to the sauce or dish it accompanies, not to the noodle itself. If you are serving this alongside Coq au Riesling, see that recipe for the pairing guidance. If you are serving the noodles simply — tossed in butter, with perhaps a grating of Parmesan and a handful of herbs — the wine follows the butter. A good Burgundian Chardonnay or a white Burgundy from the Mâcon is the natural choice: the richness of the egg yolk pasta echoes the wine's body, and the butter connects them. For a cream or mushroom sauce, the same logic applies. For a tomato-based sauce, reach for a medium-bodied red — a Barbera, a lighter Côtes du Rhône, or a good Beaujolais cru. The pasta will follow wherever the sauce leads.
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My husband is known for his amazing homemade pasta, and after decades of experimenting, he swears this recipe from Michael Symon is the most tender, flavorful pasta he's ever made - and I have to agree. The richness of the egg yolks - well, you may never go back to "regular" pasta. If you have the inclination to make your own, this one's a keeper.
You can find more about using this recipe and wine pairing:
Dry Riesling is one of the most underestimated wines at the table.
Part of the problem is the name. "Riesling" carries associations — in many people's minds — with sweetness, with German labels that are difficult to read, with the kind of wine someone's grandmother opened at holiday dinners and served too cold. Those associations are not entirely wrong as descriptions of some Riesling, but they have almost nothing to do with dry Alsatian Riesling, which is an entirely different experience.
Dry Riesling — particularly from Alsace — is a wine of precision. It is high in acidity, mineral in character, aromatic without being perfumed, and structured in a way that makes it genuinely useful at the dinner table rather than simply enjoyable on its own. It cuts through rich sauces. It echoes mineral and herbal notes in food. It refreshes the palate between bites in a way that softer, lower-acid whites do not.
What Dry Riesling Tastes Like
In the glass, Alsatian Riesling is pale to medium gold — slightly deeper than a Muscadet, lighter than an oaked Chardonnay. The aromatics are distinctive: citrus (lemon pith, grapefruit), stone fruit (white peach, apricot), and a mineral quality that is sometimes described as slate, petrol, or wet stone. This minerality is characteristic of Riesling grown on schist and granite soils — it is not a flaw or an off-note but the terroir speaking through the grape.
On the palate: crisp acidity, medium to full body (fuller than you might expect for a white wine), and a long finish that often carries citrus peel and mineral notes well after the glass is empty. There is no sweetness — or at most the perception of fruit ripeness, which reads as flavor rather than sugar.
With age, dry Alsatian Riesling develops. The fresh citrus deepens into something more complex — dried apricot, honey, smoke, and the famous petroleum note that signals mature Riesling from the region's best terroirs. A ten-year-old Alsatian Riesling from a good producer is a different wine than the same bottle at two years, and both are worth knowing.
Why It Works at the Table
The three characteristics that make dry Riesling exceptional with food are acidity, body, and aromatic precision.
The acidity cuts. Rich dishes — cream sauces, braised poultry, fattier fish, dishes with butter or lard as a base — need acidity at the table to stay fresh over the course of a meal. Dry Riesling provides this without the sharpness of a high-acid Sauvignon Blanc or the neutrality of a Pinot Grigio.
The body matches. A wine with the body of a Muscadet disappears next to a cream-braised chicken. Dry Alsatian Riesling has enough weight to hold its place alongside substantial dishes without overwhelming delicate ones.
The aromatics echo. The stone fruit, citrus, and mineral notes in the wine resonate with flavors that appear in cooked food — the slight bitterness of leeks, the earthiness of mushrooms, the brightness of lemon zest in a sauce, the mineral quality of good poultry stock reduced down.
This Week's Bottle
The a dry Alsatian Riesling is our lead bottle — dry, mineral, and made by one of the more thoughtful producers in the region. a good Alsatian Riesling producer farms biodynamically and ferments in traditional large-format foudres. The result is a Riesling with genuine terroir character at an everyday price.
It is the wine in the Coq au Riesling (Thursday's post) and the wine at the table alongside it. That connection — cooking with the bottle and drinking the same one — is part of how Alsace approaches its food culture.
Thursday: Coq au Riesling — the recipe, the pairing logic, and why this dish teaches Alsace better than any description.
Riesling has a problem that isn't actually a problem with the grape. The problem is communication.
Pick up a bottle of Alsatian Riesling and the label will tell you the producer, the grape, and the vintage. What it may not tell you clearly — and this is the thing that trips people up more than almost anything in wine retail — is whether the wine is dry, off-dry, or something closer to dessert.
In Alsace, Riesling is made across a spectrum of sweetness that is among the widest of any wine region in the world. Understanding that spectrum is not complicated once you have a framework for it. This is the framework.
Why the Sweetness Range Exists
The long, dry growing season in Alsace allows grapes to accumulate exceptional sugar levels. The winemaker's choice — when to harvest, how long to leave the grapes on the vine, whether to allow noble rot — determines where on the spectrum the finished wine sits.
A wine harvested at normal ripeness and fermented to dryness is a dry Riesling: all the sugar has been converted to alcohol, and what you taste is the grape's natural fruit and mineral character. A wine harvested late, with higher initial sugar, may be fermented partially — leaving some residual sugar in the wine — or may carry significant sweetness even after full fermentation given the starting sugar levels. Noble rot (Botrytis cinerea) concentrates sugars further, producing some of the most intensely sweet and complex wines in the world.
The Alsatian classification system attempts to signal where on this spectrum a given wine sits. Here is a spectrum of Alsatian wines from driest to sweetest.
Types of Alsatian Wines to Pay Attention to
Alsace AOC (no further designation)
The base appellation. No sweetness designation, no vineyard specification. In practice, most wines at this level are made dry, though this is not guaranteed. This is where the label ambiguity is most acute: the producer's style and the vintage character will determine sweetness, and the only reliable way to know is to look up the producer or ask your wine merchant. Dry versions at this level are frequently excellent value — clean, varietal, food-friendly.
Alsace Grand Cru
Wines from one of 51 classified vineyard sites. Grand Cru must be made from one of the four noble varieties (Riesling, Gewürztraminer, Pinot Gris, Muscat). The classification speaks to origin and quality, not sweetness. Grand Cru wines may be dry or may carry some residual sugar depending on the producer and vintage. The Grand Cru designation is a terroir signal, not a sweetness signal.
Alsace's sparkling wine, made by the traditional method from Pinot Blanc, Auxerrois, Riesling, Pinot Gris, and Pinot Noir. Typically dry. This is a separate category from the still wine hierarchy — included here because it represents a distinct, important part of Alsatian wine production.
Vendange Tardive (VT) — Late Harvest
Grapes harvested significantly later than the normal picking date, with naturally high sugar concentrations. Vendange Tardive wines may be dry, off-dry, or notably sweet depending on how much of the sugar was fermented. The designation is a harvest signal, not a finished-wine sweetness guarantee. The best VT wines are rich and concentrated but retain enough acidity to stay fresh and age beautifully. Riesling VT is particularly fine — the acidity cuts through the richness and keeps the wine precise.
Grapes affected by Botrytis cinerea (noble rot), harvested individually berry by berry at peak concentration. This is always sweet — intensely, extravagantly sweet — with the honeyed, apricot, ginger, and saffron complexity that Botrytis produces. SGN Riesling is rare, expensive, and extraordinary. It is a dessert wine and a meditation. Serve a small pour alongside a strong cheese — Munster is the regional choice — or simply alone.
Edelzwicker
A blend of two or more Alsatian grape varieties. Historically a humble, everyday wine; today increasingly made with care by producers interested in the blending possibilities the region offers. Typically dry, typically affordable, typically underappreciated.
Gentil
A specific style of Edelzwicker — a blended wine requiring at least 50% noble varieties. Hugel & Fils produces the most widely known example. Dry, aromatic, and versatile at the table.
The Practical Question: How Do I Know If It's Dry?
First - check for alcohol content. If abv is closer to 11%, it's going to be sweet. If the wine is closer to 13%, it's likely a drier style - but I've recently seen 13% abv wines with some sweetness. Don't be afraid of a little off-dry styles though, as they are incredible with food - particularly the spicier dishes.
What to do next if there's no clues on the label? The short answer: look for the producer rather than the label designation.
A back-label residual sugar number below 5 g/L is generally experienced as dry. Between 5–12 g/L is off-dry territory — you may or may not perceive sweetness, depending on the wine's acidity. Above 12 g/L the sweetness becomes perceptible to most palates.
When in doubt, ask your wine merchant. The question "is this dry?" is not an embarrassing question. It is a useful one, and any good merchant will answer it without hesitation.
Why This Matters
Understanding the sweetness spectrum in Alsatian Riesling is not about memorizing a classification system. It is about having a framework that lets you choose intentionally — to seek out the dry wines for the dinner table, the late-harvest wines for cheese, the SGN for the rare occasion that calls for it.
The same grape. Many different expressions. This is what wine regions do when they have the depth and the geological diversity to do it. Alsace has both.
May is Mental Health Awareness Month, and the wine world has a complicated relationship with that conversation.
We talk about wine as relaxation. As reward. As the thing you pour after a hard day. And there's nothing wrong with any of that — except when we stop noticing which version of "relaxation" we're actually after.
Here's what I mean.
There's a version of enjoying wine that enhances presence. You pour a glass, sit down with a meal or a person you care about, and the wine makes the moment better. You notice more. You slow down. The experience is fuller.
And there's a version that replaces presence. You pour a glass to check out. To quiet the noise. To get through the evening.
I'm not making a judgment about either. We're human. Both happen.
But I think most people — if they're honest — have never actually asked the question: which one is this, right now?
Wine as enhancement. Or wine as escape.
The difference isn't the wine in your glass. It's the awareness you bring to it.
When wine is working as an enhancer, something specific happens: you slow down. You notice what you're tasting. You become more present, not less. The wine becomes part of an experience rather than a shortcut away from one.
When it's working as an escape, the opposite is true. You're not really tasting anything. You're not really there. The glass is just doing a job.
Here's why I think this matters for Mental Health Month specifically: a lot of the wine culture we've built — the memes about mommy wine, the social shorthand of "I need a drink" — conflates both of these. It normalizes one without distinguishing between them. And that makes it harder to notice which one you're in.
I'm not anti-escape. I'm pro-awareness.
Because when you start noticing what role your glass is actually playing, something shifts. You start making choices instead of just reaching for habit. And that's where wine gets genuinely interesting — when it becomes intentional.
This month, I'm sharing four ideas about how to experience wine more fully. Not to drink more. Not to drink less. But to actually be there when you do.
What role does your glass play most often? I'd genuinely love to know.
Alsace occupies a narrow strip of land between the Vosges Mountains and the Rhine River — a geography that has, for most of the last two centuries, also meant occupying a space between two countries. France and Germany have exchanged this territory four times since 1870. The vineyards have remained.
That history matters to the wine. It explains the tall, tapered green bottles. The German grape names on French labels. The fact that Riesling — the great noble grape of the Rhine — grows here in its most austere, mineral, and precise form anywhere in France. Alsace is a region that has been claimed by two traditions and has, in the process, built something entirely its own.
This week, we are spending time with Alsace. Not memorizing it — understanding it. The history, the landscape, the grapes, and the dry Riesling that is both the region's most serious wine and, for our purposes, one of the finest food wines in the world.
The Geography
Alsace runs north to south for roughly 170 kilometers along the eastern edge of France, averaging only a few kilometers wide. The Vosges Mountains to the west are the key geographic fact: they block Atlantic rain systems, making Alsace one of the driest wine regions in France. Colmar, near the heart of the region, receives less annual rainfall than almost any French wine city. The sun shines here. The grapes ripen fully.
The Rhine forms the eastern border, and across it is Germany's Baden wine region — where many of the same grape varieties grow in similar soils. The terroir across the two sides of the river is, in some respects, continuous. The wines are not. Alsace makes its whites dry, aromatic, and long. The German tradition, historically, has favored more residual sugar. That distinction — and the complications the Alsace label system introduces — is exactly what we examine on Tuesday.
The soils of Alsace are among the most geologically diverse in any wine region: granite, limestone, sandstone, clay, volcanic rock, and schist all appear across different vineyard sites. This diversity is part of why Alsace rewards attention. The same grape — Riesling in particular — tastes noticeably different grown on granite versus limestone versus volcanic soil.
The History, In Brief
The vineyards of Alsace have been cultivated since at least Roman times. The region prospered through the medieval period as a source of wine for trade along the Rhine. The trouble began in 1870, when Prussia annexed Alsace-Lorraine following the Franco-Prussian War. Alsace became German. Its wine industry, previously oriented toward France, reoriented toward the German domestic market, which at the time favored high-volume, lower-quality production. The fine wine tradition suffered.
After the First World War, Alsace returned to France. After the Second World War, it returned again, having spent the war years under German occupation once more. What emerged in the post-war decades was a wine culture in active reconstruction — winemakers consciously building an identity that was neither simply French nor simply German, but Alsatian.
The AOC system arrived in 1962. Grand Cru classification — 51 individual vineyard sites — was formalized in 1983. These are the wines that carry specific terroir character, and they are worth seeking out once you understand the regional style.
The Grapes
Alsace is almost entirely white wine country. The four noble varieties are Riesling, Gewürztraminer, Pinot Gris, and Muscat. Sylvaner and Pinot Blanc are workhorses — approachable, lighter, often excellent value. Pinot Noir is the one red, producing a pale, elegant wine.
Riesling is the benchmark. It is the most planted noble variety and the grape that best expresses the region's terroir — high acidity, pronounced minerality, aromas of citrus, stone fruit, and in aged examples, the distinctive petroleum note that signals mature Alsatian Riesling. It is also the variety with the widest range of sweetness levels — from bone-dry to intensely sweet — which is both the source of its complexity and the source of the label confusion we address on Tuesday.
Gewürztraminer is the most recognisable — heady, floral, lychee and rose petal, unmistakable. It is often the wine that introduces people to Alsace, though it is not always the best representation of what the region does at its most serious. At its best, dry Gewürztraminer is extraordinary; at its worst, the residual sugar tips into something cloying.
Pinot Gris sits between Riesling and Gewürztraminer in weight — richer and spicier than Riesling, more structured and less floral than Gewürztraminer. It pairs particularly well with food and is often the most versatile of the three at the dinner table.
Muscat in Alsace is typically made dry and is, when done well, a remarkable aperitif wine — grapey, floral, fresh. It is less common than the others and worth seeking out.
What to Expect in the Glass
Alsatian whites are typically fuller-bodied than you might expect from a cool-climate region. The dry growing season and long hang time produce wines with intensity and concentration. They are fermented in large, neutral oak foudres — traditional oval barrels that impart no oak flavor but do allow slow, gentle oxidation. The result is wines that are aromatic and rich without oak influence.
They age. Dry Alsatian Riesling from a good producer and a good vintage can develop for ten to twenty years, acquiring the smoky, mineral, complex character that makes old Alsatian Riesling one of wine's great underappreciated experiences.
They are food wines. The combination of body, acidity, and aromatic intensity makes Alsatian whites natural companions for the region's cuisine — and for food far beyond it. Coq au Riesling is the most direct expression of this: the wine goes into the pot, and the same wine returns to the table.
How to Buy Alsatian Wine
The label will show the grape variety — not the appellation. This is unlike most French wine labeling, where the appellation tells you the grape by implication. In Alsace, the grape is named directly, which makes buying straightforward: you see Riesling, you know what you're getting. The complexity lies in reading the sweetness level, which is where Tuesday's post comes in.
Entry ($15–25): Village-level Alsace from a reliable producer or cooperative. Often excellent value, particularly for Pinot Blanc and Riesling. Approachable and food-friendly.
Mid-range ($25–45): Single-producer Alsace from a recognized name — Trimbach, Hugel, Zind-Humbrecht, Domaine Weinbach, a good Alsatian Riesling producer. This is where the regional character becomes clear and the grape varieties speak properly.
Our lead bottle this week: a dry Alsatian Riesling. This is a benchmark entry-point for Alsatian Riesling — dry, precise, with the mineral clarity and stone-fruit character that define the style. It is also the wine in the Coq au Riesling.
Grand Cru ($40–80+): Vineyard-designated wines with the highest classification. Worth exploring once you know the style.
This Week
Tuesday brings two posts: how to read an Alsace label and stop guessing whether the wine is dry — and a focused look at dry Riesling. Thursday is Coq au Riesling: the dish that teaches you the region by cooking with it.
The wine in this dish is the same wine at the table. That continuity is part of the lesson.