There are all kinds of wines out in the world that no one ever mentions. Some of them are too new, others are too old, and a few too regional. White resinated wine is one of those obscure wines from Greece that’s made mostly out of tradition, mostly for those die hard addicts of its flavor. Essentially, this wine is white wine, usually Trebbiano, fermented with pine resin. This used to actually have a purpose in using the resin as a sealant, but now exists only to add flavor. Fair warning, if you like herbal wine or gin, Hermes Retsina might be for, all others might find this a bit odd.
Sight: A firm gold, maybe a hint of green.
Smell: Holy lord is this pungent. I stepped out of the house, stepped back in, and it was projecting to the front door. Glade plug-in power of pine with heady notes of yeast.
Sip: Pungently piney, with a moderate level of acidity. The white wines backbone was rather full, giving it a full feeling, but that may be partially the resin. Pine is predominate. It’s a bit like chewing a pine tree. [A.B.V. 11.5%]
Savor: Pine. Did I mention pine? This is full on coniferous, juniper, pine cone, pine sap, you name it, it’s pine like. Well. Except apple. It’s not short either. It’s got a moderate length on it.
Hermes Retsina leaves me with no shortage of things to say. Most of them involve jokes about pine needles, trees, and wishing I were a lumberjack. Primarily though, I’m left wondering who really drinks this? As a wine, it’s utterly oddball, and as gin substitute it lacks the complexity and strength. While it has it’s place in history, Hermes Retsina might be best left off your table. For the hardcore wine and gin lovers only.
Verdict: Pine. Pine. Pine. Pine.