Mosel

I visited Germany a couple of times with my family in the early 1990s, and then again on a school trip in 1994. It’s a big, beautiful country which varies from the industrial cities to the rural valleys, filled with small medieval villages and church towns.

Although I’ve returned to Germany since then, it’s never been on a proper wine-orientated trip—until last week over the course of a couple of days. I can tell you the first week of January is not the best time to visit as it’s cold and wet and not that many wineries are open. But we got out of it what we could.

landscape

Germany’s wine landscape is famous across the world. We visited Mosel, a wide, deep river that also flows through France’s Moselle and Luxembourg, and is one of Europe’s most northerly wine-producing regions. Dramatic, varied slopes rise up from its banks. Much of the land, particularly at the top, is wooded and too cool for vine cultivation. But further down the combination of slate soils and the water effect from the river help the grapes achieve full ripeness.

To the naked eye, the differences between the sprawling vineyards are hard to detect. But the winemaker knows exactly what is planted where, and how the localised growing conditions affect ripening. Traditionally, holdings were scattered across villages due to Napoleonic inheritance laws, which made farming very difficult. However, a new scheme has been introduced to consolidate plantings and make farming easier. Instead of having small vineyards across villages, producers are allowed to swap land to achieve more continuous holdings of land. Jann Mathias Klein at Staffelter Hof has taken advantage of this to accumulate 13ha of vineyards all in close proximity to one another and much easier to work with and develop. At the same time, producers can make wines which express the subtle differences between each site they own.

riesling

Of course, the great grape of Mosel is Riesling and many producers work with little else. J. J. Prüm are a family still living in a 1900 house next to the river and directly opposite the famous Wehlehner Sonnenuhr vineyard. We were hosted by Amie Prüm, who has been married into the family since the 1960s. She quietly but demonstratively asserted that her family’s wines were about the purity of the fruit, which is why there is little overt winemaking and most of the wines are sweet. We tasted five wines with her, all from vineyards near to each other, all with a gentle sweetness which naturally softened the naturally high acidity. Compared to dry Riesling, tasting these sweeter styles is like biting into a juicy pear or peach with the acidity cleansing the palate without being too dominant.

highlights

Welhner Sonnenuhr Spätlese 2018 (9%)

the biggest bodied of the wines, with some weight and richness, and a light smoky feel; floral and perfumed, all balanced by perfectly soft acidity. Around 55g/L of residual sugar. (✪✪✪✪)

Graacher Himmelreich Auslese 2015 (7.5%)

A wine with some age, yet still remarkably fresh and youthful, the rich, round palate lifted by vibrant acidity. Around 70-75g/L of residual sugar. (✪✪✪✪✪)

Next up was Dr. Loosen, on the other side of the river and one of the most famous producers in Mosel, where an astonishing range of wine is made. Dr. Loosen is run by Ernie Loosen, who is not actually a doctor.

Moving from the sweet styles of J. J. Prüm to the dry wines of Dr. Loosen was quite a palate shock. The acidity, which is probably similar to those of J. J. Prüm, is the first noticeable aspect when tasting—much more like biting into a firm, crisp apple. The Graacher Himmelreich Großes Gewächs 2021 was an interesting comparison to Prüm’s much sweeter version: floral, bitter, herbal, spicy, subtly powerful, with a lingering finish (✪✪✪✪). Dr. Loosen also make plenty of sweet wine: the two single-vineyard site wines from Ürziger Würzgarten had different levels of sweetness but a familiar site style. The Kabinett 2021 (8% ABV, with 40-45g/L of residual sugar) was delicate and light, with a tingling spiciness (✪✪✪✪), while the Spätlese 2019 (8% ABV with 60g/L of residual sugar) was richer, with stone and tropical fruits, maintaining high, vibrant acidity (✪✪✪✪✪). We also got a taste of the 1998 Spätlese, which was oily and nutty, yet remarkably fresh for its age (✪✪✪✪✪).

We finished with Clemens Busch, hosted by Rita Busch. Since the 1980s, they have been committed to reviving old, neglected vineyards just too steep for conventional winemaking. Across the river is an extraordinary rock face around which vines delicately perch. Farming this land goes beyond a labour of love. They also make sweet wine, although at the end of the day I have to confess my appreciation of sugar was beginning to fade. Moreover, it was the dry wines I had come for. Clemens Busch is known for making wines from different coloured slate soils, grey, red, green, and blue. The highlights were the single-vineyard, single-parcel selections. These wines are a series of contradictions: delicate and linear; powerful and driven; acid-driven without a notable fruit profile. Not so long ago during the pandemic (who knows when) I opened a Clemens Busch 2010 I’d been holding on to: it was still fresh and elegant, with developing petrol-driven mature aromas. Tasting younger wines again proves these are seriously age worthy wines.

highlights: slate colours

Marienburg Großes Gewächs 2021

From thirty-year-old vines on grey slate soils: spice, weight, power, lemon, lime, and floral aromas, and a lingering finish (✪✪✪✪).

Marienburg “Fahrlay” Großes Gewächs 2018

From a smaller parcel on the Marienburg site, the soils are blue slate: rich and spicy, saline, lean with a grainy texture, and vibrant acidity (✪✪✪✪✪).

Marienburg “Falkenlay” Großes Gewächs 2018

From a different parcel with red-coloured slate soils for a more subtle, textured, less spicy and weighty style (✪✪✪✪).

irreverence

It isn’t all just Riesling; there are producers experimenting in case the future brings a different climate. I had tasted, several years ago, the “Classic” range from Staffelter Hof: archetypal Mosel wines without being that exciting. Visiting the winery gave a very different impression. We drove up, down, and around Jann’s vineyards, noting the many different aspects and levels of steepness, making clear how each site produces subtly different styles of wine. There was even a small parcel planted to Portuguese varieties, Arinto and Fernão Pires. Who knows if they may come in useful in the future of climate change?

I wasn’t prepared when we returned to the winery just how experimental Jann and his team are. Outside of the “Classic” range, the labels are beautiful, artistic, and unique—hinting at the irreverent attitude to winemaking inside the bottle. “SandersStruck” is skin-contact Müller-Thurgau—yes, it is possible to make interesting wine from that much-maligned variety! (✪✪✪✪); “Papa Panda’s Rising” is Riesling made in new, large oak casks for a creamier style (✪✪✪✪); “Kiss Kiss Maddie’s Lips” is a Rosé Pét-Nat made from Fruhburgunder (earlier-ripening Pinot Noir) (✪✪✪✪); and, finally, “Orange Utan” is a skin-contact blend of Muscat, Riesling, and Sauvignon Gris (✪✪✪✪). Moreover, all of these wines are less than 12% ABV. These are wines which will take Mosel to a host of different consumers: it’s important that producers maintain traditions, but also that they don’t get set in their ways.