I’ll get straight to it. If you haven’t tried Moschofilero*, you should.
Moscho-what?!? you’d ask? Right. It is another of those hard to pronounce indigenous Greek grape varietals. To get help with how to vocalize MOHS-koh-FEE-leh-roh, you can watch this video.
Tricky to pronounce it may be, but you will be happy to put in the effort to remember the name once you’ve tried it. As it happened to me.
I was introduced to this varietal by my cousin (mentioned in the first installment of How to Eat and Drink like a Greek), who although not much of a wine drinker, or a drinker at all, now that I think of it, would be a perfect ambassador for the Greek wine industry. That particular bottle of this white was meant to go well with a moussaka, which it did, but more importantly its amazing aromas and tastes made me remember the wine and seek it out once back in Canada.
The one I tried recently will wow you too from the first whiff, with its bouquet of white flowers, jasmine and orange blossom, combined with fruit and spice notes of melon, Fuji apple and white pepper. On the palate it brings citrus and more of the aromatic apple flavours, supported nicely by a crisp acidity and finishing beautifully on peach and grapefruity notes. Light to medium yellow in colour, you’d agree that it is more intense than its hue would suggest.
And you would need a significant taste to wrestle with, say Greek feta. It went marvelously with the roasted dish of chicken, feta, almonds and broccoli, sprinkled with olive oil, and grated lemon rind, dill and fleur-de-sel mix. But it was superb with the recipe of rutabaga fries and aioli, where the original ricotta in the aioli was substituted with sour cream for a more Greek-inspired alternative.
* You’ll notice that on the bottle it says Moscofilero, which is a variation of the more frequently used Moschofilero.