Khndogni

Suppose you don't know what country you're in. Is that a problem? Let's ask a local where we are. We don't seem to be able to get an answer, at least not a consistent one. 

We were told we were going to Nagorno-Karabakh. Great, we are there. But, where are we really? According to the rest of the world, we are in Azerbaijan. But, every person we talk to here says they are Armenian and they don't want anyone to think they are Azerbaijani. Stopping into what looks like a government building, we get a revelation. This area used to be known locally as the Republic of Nagorno-Karabakh, but now the Republic of Artsakh. While we are technically in Azerbaijan, we are told that the Azerbaijani government isn't particularly concerned about this mountainous area (Karabakh translates from Armenian as mountainous and yes, I had to look that one up) and they let the Aetsakh people self-govern.

But, we are here today not only to learn about this disputed territory -- a land either without a home or with many depending on how you think about it -- but also to see what wine they make. Let's try an unpronouncable one called Khndogni (Vanna, can I buy a vowel?) which I am told is pronounced roughly as khhhhhhang-douhhhhhh-nee. I guess they like the h sound here.

We all know that the local geography and climate make a big difference in the wine we are drinking. We're in the Caucasus Mountains almost exclusively more than 1000 meters/3300 feet above sea level. And, while there are mesas or elevated plains to the east, we are surrounded by mountains and mountain ridges largely on each of the other three sides. On the mountain slopes, we find that we are in high elevation forests in an assortment of beech, ash, and oak. And, from this oak is produced the regionally famous Caucusus oak barrels used to age wine. 

Among fruits, there are apple and pear orchards, mulberries, and, of course, grapes. And, one of the grapes that you pretty much only find here is Khndogni.

What makes it special? It's tannic and does well in oak, so if you do get your hands on a bottle, it may be quite ageworthy. It coats the palate with a mixture of black and blue fruit, but has a notable cotton candy texture to it. And, it is quite minerally (the area is home to some of the most diverse mineral deposits on earth) and earthy.

Here is the best part. Assuming you can find a bottle, your ageworthy Khndogni may set you back less than $10. It pairs wonderfully with the local foods and those of the region generally including kebabs particularly lamb, eggplant, and the local bread that I really enjoy, levash.