And at that point the Sun should rise
OK, no beating around the bush: this here feels like one of the most outstanding wines I ever made. Not to appear self-indulgent or over-confident, but every time I taste it, I'm amazed that we made something this... captivating! Hence the name - it means My or Mine in Czech, and I stand behind it 300%. (Pronounced [mō-yeh] although I like the idea of hearing it sound like "mojo" because this wine surely has one.)
Non-vintage 100% Riesling from our Babušák plot, with delicate fizz coming from secondary fermentation in the bottle. I wanted to make something else than a pet-nat - not a Champagne of course (I love me a good grower but that's precisely why I know it's no use trying to reproduce their special je ne sais quoi in Moravia; let's just do our own thing here). To avoid using any artificial sugar, we did this: first, in 2018, we made the still wine, aged for about a year in local acacia barrel. The year after, we took the freshly fermenting must from the same plot and used it instead of liqueur de tirage. Bottled in October 2019, laying on its fine lees since. Undisgorged and meant to remain such; I see lees as the mother of the wine, nourishing and keeping it in good shape. Which is important because this wine surely has the potential to get better over years. (Once you decide to open it, I recommend storing it upright for a day before, to sediment the lees; it makes the flavour experience more delicate.)
The first time we did this, as a trial, was in 2015 & 16: it was already so good that barely any bottle made it outside of the winery. We only shared a couple of them with our friends at the Michelin-starred La Dégustation and Veltlín in Prague. (I told you it was MINE! My preciousssss.) It's hard, but I'm trying to be a bit less selfish this time and share it with more friends of mine - you.
The wine has the signature Nestarec electricity and instant aromatic grip of my primary kids Danger or BumBumCha, but there's something more to it, something I call the X-factor. Maybe it's the “noble” grape, maybe the secondary bottle fermentation, maybe the unique loess terroir of Velke Bílovice: whatever it is, it makes MOJE really enticing. A bright matter whose gravity pulls you right in and makes you want to explore more of what's in there. Ray of light announcing the return of longer, brighter days.
We wanted to reflect this stellar, more introspective character of the wine on the bottle as well. So, together with my longterm collaborator Soňa Valentová, we found some lovely NASA vintage pictures - I always loved those - and made a little "comic strip" of a label. It features dates from the wine's life, from the plantation of the vines to its release at the day of 2020 winter solstice. Six different versions of both front and back label; each case contains one of each to tell you the whole story. Yeah, we got really geeky here. (Including the tongue-in-cheek Space Invaders top stickers.) Hope you'll have fun chasing them in the space, and guessing which means what. But mainly drinking it, of course.
Only ~1500 bottles made, so I better stop tasting now...
*OK, one more nerdy story since you were able to read until here: one of the back labels says "I certainly don't think that we will earn much money on this, but at least it will allow us to take pictures for free." Which ain't my quote - Arvid Viktor Hasselblad, son of the founder of the now-iconic eponymous Swedish brand of cameras, reportedly said this when starting the photographic division of the company. He'd probably be surprised to learn that this unambitious venture of his made it as far as the universe: custom-made Hassies were the only cameras used by NASA on all missions during the first years of space exploration. There are apparently 12 of them still sitting on the Moon surface, left behind to save weight; given their iconic status and consequent price, the trip to the Moon looks quite tempting...
Wanna drink this? These are the guys to ask where to get my wine in your country.
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