A view of the steep Calmont vineyard to the left with the villages of Eller and Ediger-Eller in the background.

After reading David Schildknecht’s 2009 vintage profile on Beaujolais, the following passage reminded me of similar problems facing grape-growers in the Mosel region.

It is by now commonplace that Beaujolais is a region in crisis; and the ramifications of so many thousands of small growers increasingly hard-pressed to obtain for their fruit a price that pays them to continue farming—much less farm with an eye toward quality or respect for the land’s sustenance—are indeed dire. This situation will not be turned around anytime soon, nor will it be turned around without a significant loss of total vineyard acreage, bound to include ancient vines on steep but potentially excellent sites. Still, there is hope for this region provided that those growers who are setting an example of diligent stewardship of their terroir and offering distinctively delicious variations on a grape that has only ever risen to distinction in this one, incomparable landscape, are able to command prices that will reward low yields; the nursing of old vines; the back-aching labor of steep slope viticulture; hand-harvesting; and immaculate, imaginative, and attentive vinification. And this hope is of course in our hands, fellow wine lovers. Whether you think you outgrew Beaujolais years ago; whether one or another producer whose wines you tasted in recent years did not inspire you; or even if you never evinced any interest in Beaujolais at all, do please take the 2009 vintage as an opportunity to explore a small range of the wines that I’ve recommended, so that you can at least say from experience what it is that you and those who drink at your table have been missing.

In spite of the loss of precious old Gamay and Riesling vines and the plonk sold as Beaujolais and Mosel by either large bottling companies or poor quality producers, some growers continue to fight on to save old vines and to uphold the best traditions for making top wines. Marcel Lapierre is one of the first names to come to mind in the Beaujolais. His Morgon bottlings are pure and true.

The legendary American importer Frank Schoonmaker once wrote: “In many ways the Mosels are the German white counterparts of Beaujolais.” He was referring, of course, to their charm in youth—fragrance, effervescence, lightness, and fruitiness.

The northern Rhône has much in common with the Mosel too: Roman history, steep slope viticulture, and small farmer-growers with diverse, spread-out parcels. Both are rugged regions—flanked by rustic hill country, such as the Ardèche and Eifel, respectively—and the hillside vineyard work is back-breaking. Syrah in granite, like Riesling in slate, gives the wines their structure and breed.

Many connoisseurs would argue, however, that red Burgundy is more akin to Mosel Riesling, because of their reputation for making some of the finest wines. In addition, the monks played in each region an important role over the centuries as did Napoleon later on. Yet, unlike Burgundy, the Mosel is less sought-after by buyers and collectors nowadays than over a century ago, unless it’s famous names such as Joh. Jos. Prüm or Egon Müller-Scharzhof.

By the way, Bert Celce’s write-up on Cornas vintner Thierry Allemand, a favorite of mine alongside Gonon in St. Joseph, looks at the terrain of his various sites and the hard work involved farming them. The shot of Allemand’s Reynards, in particular, is reminiscent of Stein’s Palmberg, each tucked in a side valley with steep terraces.

In the current issue of The Art of Eating (no. 84 “The State of Pork”), Dan Melia was asked to write a short piece on Ulli Stein’s manifesto, which he had translated (with the assistance of the wine critic David Schildknecht) and posted on our blog early this year.

Since publishing the plea, Ulli has since been able to save old Riesling vines from being cut down by retiring grape-growers in his village of St. Aldegund, namely in the site called Himmelreich. Various producers along the Mosel and local press have taken notice. Even the well-known British wine author Jancis Robinson asked to republish Dan’s translation on her website. All of this has been good to see, even if much more needs to be done to save precious old vines in steep slate sites from thorny shrubs, such as the blackberry.

Though he’s one of the wine world’s great talkers, Ulli Stein knows that words alone will not be enough to confront the economic and spiritual crises currently—and urgently—threatening the great traditions of Mosel winemaking (including sites such as Bremmer Calmont, pictured above). Below is a call to action from Ulli, already generating significant response in the region, here translated in full.

Thorns instead of vines!

Alf/Mosel, January 2010

Viticulture on the Mosel has already experienced plenty of crises—and survived! But the ultimate endgame now threatens those old Riesling vines in the greatest steep slate slopes throughout our region.

While on the one hand thousands of euros are spent at wine auctions for a single bottle of Mosel Riesling, and though for many growers who market their own wines all is well, the price for 1000 liters of Riesling (in barrel) now sits at 600 euros. Many part-time winemakers, who have long worked age-old vineyards of extreme steepness and scenic beauty, are finally giving up. The reasons are not only economic but also psychological: if the oft-mentioned “heroic” work in the steepest vineyards not only fails to generate profit but also engenders massive losses, then that signals, in the end, an extremely low regard not only for the work but also for the people engaged in it.

The causes of this unfortunate development are diverse and complex. Mistakes have been made by all involved, including Weinkellereien, winemakers, consultants, and lawmakers. A sampling of what’s gone wrong:

• in the past, too many Weinkellereien (merchant houses/négociants) have placed too little value on quality, have bought and sold junk (as long as the price is low!), and have led the names “Riesling” and “Mosel” into the bargain bins of supermarket shelves, from which they can no longer escape.
• many winemakers have fashioned their wines accordingly, accepted any price, shared their frustrations above all with their children, in word and deed emphatically warning them against the life of a wine grower.
• consultants and lawmakers have fixated single-mindedly on sugar content as the exclusive criteria for quality; propagated the “wrong” varietals (like Kerner); and encouraged questionable winemaking methods (i.e., sweet reserve, de-acidification, etc.)
• and at the end of the day, roughly 90% of all consumers refuse to pay more than 2.99 euros for a bottle of wine, regardless of whether the label indicates Riesling from steep slopes or Pinot Grigio from the Po Valley.

This all sounds rather pessimistic, though sadly with good reason. Half of all vines in my village of St. Aldegund will be grubbed up in the coming months, and in the next two years it will be another quarter. A similar fate awaits the neighboring villages (Alf, Bullay, Neef). Most of those winemakers who are still active are over 60 years old, and for many there is no successor in sight.

Soon the two-thousand-year-old winemaking landscape will cease to exist in many places along the Mosel. Whether the oft-mentioned tourists will still come to gaze upon blackberry bushes remains to be seen.

Despite positive changes on the Mosel, such as rising wine quality among those growers who sell and market their own wines; a slowly increasing number of apprentices; the re-cultivation of vineyards (such as Bremmer Calmont); and such large-scale collaborations as Weingut Kallfelz’s purchase and renovation of the local teaching and research station, viticulture in many sectors is seriously imperiled. Faced in the coming years with the threat of 3000 hectares of soon-to-be-fallow steep sites—one-third of the entire Mosel region—slogans of perseverance (“we have to look to the future, not bemoan what is lost”) will be of as little use as supplication at the feet of the Kellereien. Such approaches obstruct our view of the bitter reality and prevent effective counter-measures, among them the following small and feasible goals:

1. Every estate that directly markets its own wines but that also purchases grapes, must, or wine from colleagues should pay—for Riesling from steep slopes with at least 70° Oechsle—a baseline price of 1200 euros, and for each degree increase in Oecshle an additional 50 euros more. (We’ve been doing this successfully for years with several hectares of steep sites and receive, for a fair price, grapes of corresponding quality.)
2. Every grape-grower who wants to uproot vineyards in steep sites on account of low prices should speak to local winemakers in an effort to achieve better prices. (See Point 1.)
3. Faced with an offer of 60 cents per liter of Riesling, bulk grape-growers should consider simply refusing to sell. Not for that price! Come what may! Hold out! Maintain a measure of self-respect!
4. In-house and intra-estate reorganization (in the case of older winemakers of declining strength) in which lesser sites are relinquished in favor of those steep slopes that define the Mosel landscape and are responsible for the reputation of her wines.
5. The quality of wine produced by those estates that sell and market their own wines must be improved through simple, cost-friendly measures, among them a more selective and—as a rule—later harvest, lower yields, little or no fertilizer, controlled fermentation, etc. At the same time, the value—now also reflected in the glass!—of these steep-slope Rieslings must result in higher prices. There can be no more 3 euro Riesling Spätlese from famed steep sites (like Bremmer Calmont), no more high-quality estates consistently undercutting each other’s prices.
6. Winemakers can and must develop more courage and self-confidence; stand more firmly behind their product; demand from customers an appropriate price for quality; and not tell themselves “I’ll never be able to do that” without ever having tried.
7. Full-time estates should more carefully consider the possibility of taking over certain sites, bearing in mind especially the increased costs of helicopter spraying when, within a given vineyard, only a patchwork of plots remain under cultivation. (Fallow sites need not be sprayed, of course, so the helicopter is continually turning its machine on and off, increasing both the time and cost of the operation, and those costs are shared among vineyard-owners. As a cost-cutting measure, the helicopter service is often dropped, resulting in a further incentive for growers to give up on steep sites.)
8. All winemakers and non-winemakers, including those who rent rooms to tourists, hotel and restaurant proprietors, and other affiliated businesspeople should place more value on the importance of the steep slopes and embrace and communicate that value accordingly.
9. Finally, all involved should treat each other with less envy and spite and instead aim toward solidarity and tolerance.

The preceding sober depiction is not intended to aid and abet resignation, but instead aims to snap people to attention and to serve as a call to action. On the heels of recent notable examples of vineyard rescue must follow more of the same. It is at least worth a try—if not on our own account, at least for the old Riesling vines. They can’t do a thing about it! And they deserve our protection from thorns.

Dr. Ulrich Stein
Winemaker and Oenologist
Alf/Mosel

(Translated by Dan Melia, with assistance from David Schildknecht)

After pointing out Weingut Peter Lauer’s harvest report to the wine critic David Schildknecht, he kindly translated the text himself and let me post it on our blog:

FLORIAN & PETER LAUER (WEINGUT PETER LAUER, AYL) WRITE: [and you can see their photos and the original, version of this report here]

The Saar Brings in a Fantastic 2009 Harvest

Since mid-September, our Riesling grapes in the steep slate slopes have been ripening under absolutely ideal conditions. The weather during the late months of ripening (September and October) was a critical determinant of the health, concentration, and aromas of the grapes, which are being harvested now in October, and into November.

The berries are very tiny and the clusters loose—thanks to our having divided them in summer. (This consists of cutting the individual bunch in the middle, precisely at the spot where otherwise unfavorable early botrytis appears and leads to unripe rot.)

The dry first half of October gave us top cuvées of quality comparable to the 1999s or 2005s. In the upper levels [of ripeness] this vintage leaves no wish unfulfilled: From Spät- and Auslese through BA and TBA (Trockenbeerenauslese with well over 200 degrees Oechsle) with terrific interplay [of flavors] and endless nervosité [Spannung—never have found an English word to convey this, literally meaning tension] between fruit and mineral-crystalline Saar acidty, everything is present that makes up [great] Riesling.

The dry September made it difficult for our newly-planted and young vines, and led to premature ripeness. By contrast, our many parcels with old vines—with their long, deep roots—were ideally suited for the dry autumn. Here, one tastes in the fresh must the energy and expressivity of the vintage [:] tension [English in original].

Tonight, I’m drinking a 2007 Krettnacher Altenberg Riesling Spätlese trocken from Hofgut Falkenstein. Although this producer is not in our MWM portfolio, I have great respect for Erich Weber. Moreover, he is modest and authentic like his wines and doesn’t seek the limelight. The majority of his Saar Riesling wines are fermented naturally dry and are typically Saar in style with pronounced acidity and bite. No attempts are made at this address for making full-bodied dry or off-dry wines with riper, creamier fruit.  Weber seeks physiological ripeness, but doesn’t want over-ripeness. So, he picks earlier than most. Unlike many of the best-known winegrowers on the Saar, he also has no real interest in the sweeter styles. He prefers to let his wines run their spontaneous course in a deep, cool underground cellar, which was once a winery that belonged to the Friederich Wilhelm Gymnasium. His cellar is one of the finest in the region and an ideal place for him to handcraft naturally reductive, light-bodied Riesling wines. Weber ferments with wild yeasts in Fuder and bottles late: no inoculated yeasts, additives, or enzymes here. Thanks to David Schildknecht for introducing me to Weber a few years ago. He sensed I might like these wines based on the winegrowers we have in our book.

Florian Lauer, who studied oenology in Montpellier, is the fifth-generation hands-on owner/winemaker of this 6.5-hectare (16.1 acre) Saar domaine. In addition to his studies in the south of France, he learned from his father Peter’s experience and skills. Florian tends to the vines and raises the wines himself, and he follows his father and grandfather’s procedure of bottling the wines according to individual Faß (barrel) numbers. Today, Florian perpetuates this tradition of keeping the cask numbers on the label, but often blending among the barrels to achieve a specific style.

Since the family owns a hotel-restaurant, most of their production is sold locally and rarely exported. In fact, their wines are sold out every year. In the past, the well-respected wine writer David Schildknecht imported Lauer Saar Riesling for his retail clientele.

Many of the famous Saar estates produce their Riesling with higher amounts of residual sugar from blocked fermentations; Florian focuses on dry-tasting wines. He prefers to ferment with wild yeasts on the fine lees for a longer upbringing in the traditional old oak casks (Fuders).

The majority of their holdings are in the grand cru single-vineyard Ayler Kupp, a steep south- to southwest-facing site with predominantly gray slate. As with many other famous sites, including the renowned Scharzhofberg, its boundaries have expanded beyond the core area. Before 1973, the original Kupp hillside had site-specific names that the Lauers still use today on their labels: “Unterstenbersch” (patois for Untersten  Berg, or “at the foot of the hill”), “Stirn” (a site directly above), and “Kern” (a parcel that includes a cross-section of the hillside further to the west). The Lauers have additional plots in surrounding vineyards, among them the steep Schonfels and Saarfeilser, the latter a top site with an alluvial soil consisting of large round stones and slate.

The wine style at Lauer reflects the Saar: bright acidity with good minerality.

Yesterday evening, I returned from a two-day tour of the Saar and came away impressed with the overall quality and dynamism in the region. In spite of different styles and philosophies, Saar Riesling has a unique character, namely bracing acidity that gives the wines balance, bite, and long-aging potential.

Among the more established estates, Egon Müller and Geltz-Zilliken had excellent collections in the so-called “classic” style, namely from stopped fermentations resulting in higher residual sugar. Müller feels it’s a Kabinett vintage and after tasting through his 2007s, he asked us to join him in his study and kindly poured us a half-bottle of his 1997 Scharzhofberger Kabinett, which tasted like a fresh (Hunsrück) hill-country stream. Many years ago, I had the fortune once to taste a 1971 Kabinett, my birth year, with his late father. Zilliken proudly poured us a 2003 TBA after going through samples of his 2007 collection, mostly from Saarburger Rausch. Afterward he showed us the construction being done at the moment for new tasting and vat rooms. As with so many estates in the Mosel-Saar, his daughter will be taking over. We also went down into his deep underground cellar, formerly an air-raid shelter during the Second World War.

Before Zilliken, we tasted at Dr. Wagner, an old-family estate in Saarburg whose daughter will also take over duties in a few years. (I missed David Schildknecht’s early appointment at Dr. Siemens.) The style here is conservative both in the dry and sweet categories with aging only in old barrels.  The last trip on the second day was a visit to Hofgut Falkenstein, a low-key domaine run by Erich Weber making very traditional dry-fermented Riesling and an excellent Pinot Noir under 12% alcohol. (Moritz Gogrewe in Oberemmel also made a lovely unfiltered Pinot with low alcohol.)

Although I was invited to their recent annual vintage presentations and failed to go, we tasted on Friday both at von Othegraven and Van Volxem with their respective wine-makers. Both visits had very good wines in their line-ups. Andreas Barth of Lubentiushof (a winegrower in our MWM portfolio) took over wine-making from Stefan Kraml (now at Maximin Grünhaus) in the 2004 vintage at von Othegraven, which has vines in the core section of the famous Kanzemer Altenberg. Roman Niewodniczanski, who was out of town during our visit, has been a driving force since his first vintage in 2000 by helping to put the Saar back on the map. His estate has grown from ca. less than 12 to over 40 hectares, all in top sites. The style in 2007 here is for more opulent dry-tasting wines, but less sharp in acidity than a typical dry Saar Riesling such as Dr. Wagner or Hofgut Falkenstein.

Manfred Loch of Weinhof Herrenberg, an organic winegrower in Schoden, had a top collection of dry-tasting wines from his sites in the Schodener Herrenberg and Wiltinger Schlangengraben. The style here is special, more reductive with pronounced Saar acidity, which the crown caps accentuate. At Schloss Saarstein, we tasted good racy, mineral wines from the Eberts’ monopole site.

Admittedly, I’m biased when it comes to Weingut Peter Lauer, and I was pleased from top to bottom with Florian Lauer’s collection of 2007s.  I told him that these are the style of wines that MWM wants to represent; that is traditional barrel-aged, dry-tasting Saar Riesling. In particular, his top feinherb wines stood out from the Ayler Kupp:  “Stirn” and “Kern” in addition to the single-vineyard Saarfeilser. I liked his “trocken-labeled” wines too, namely from the Kupp place-name “Unterstenbersch”  and the old-vine cuvée called “Senior,” as well as the even drier entry-level wines.

Besides von Kesslestatt and St. Urbanhof’s holdings on the Saar, I missed tasting two significant collections on my tour: von Hövel and Dr. Siemens. The latter supposedly making very good wines in only their second vintage since purchasing the former Bert Simon estate in Serrig.

In the Ruwer Valley, I was able to taste at Maximin Grünhaus, Karlsmühle, von Beulwitz, and Karthäuserhof. The wines at Maximin Grünhaus/von Schubert are back and consistent from dry to sweet.  I also felt that von Beulwitz had a very fine Kaseler Nies’chen Riesling Spätlese Alte Reben, once again, in addition to a GG from the same site. Christoph Tyrell’s Karthäuserhof had a fine collection as well. Peter Geiben at Karlsmühle had some good wines, and like so many winegrowers provided us with insight about the history of the domaine, style of wine-making, and sites, often showing us old photos, books, and maps. I feel this last week was instructive in so many ways.

Florian Lauer, who studied oenology in Montpellier, is the fifth-generation hands-on owner/winemaker of this 6.5-hectare (16.1-acre) Saar domaine. Besides his studies in the south of France, he also learned from the experience and skills of his father, Peter. Florian tends to the vines and raises the wines himself. His father and grandfather before him made the wines bottled according to individual Faß (barrel) numbers. Today, Florian continues on with this tradition of keeping the barrel numbers on the label, albeit blending among the barrels to achieve the style he wants for the specific number in question.

Since the family owns a hotel-restaurant, most of their production is sold locally. In fact, their wines are sold out every year. The Lauers have little export. In the past, the well-respected wine writer David Schildknecht imported Florian’s father’s wines for his retail clientele in Washington D.C. and later in Kentucky.

Many of the famous Saar estates prefer their Riesling with higher amounts of residual sugar from blocked fermentations; Florian’s focus is on dry-tasting and off-dry wines. He likes to ferment with wild yeasts on the fine lees for a longer upbringing in the traditional old oak barrels, called Fuder.

The majority of their holdings are in the single-vineyard Ayler Kupp, a steep south- to southwest-facing site with predominantly gray slate. As with many other famous sites, including the renowned Scharzhofberg, its boundaries were expanded beyond the core area. In the case of Kupp, it was well beyond the original site. Before 1973, the Kupp hillside had former place names that the Lauers still use today on their labels: “Unterstenbersch” (patois for “at the foot of the hill”), “Stirn” (a site higher up), and “Kern” (a parcel further to the west). The Lauers have additional plots in the original Kupp as well as in surrounding sites that Florian could legally label as “Ayler Kupp,” among them the top Schonfels and Saarfeilser.

The wine style at Lauer reflects the Saar: brisk acidity and minerality combined with finesse and low alcohol, even for the drier wines.

The Stein brothers, Ulrich (Ulli) and Peter (Piet), like delicate, low-alcohol Riesling wines with good acidity. In Germany, they have a strong following among the artist and musicians in cities likes Cologne, Hamburg, and Berlin. Some of the best German contemporary painters have made special edition Stein labels. And Ulli’s wife, Ruth, is a cabaret artist, who has performances at the domaine.

Curiously, Ulli and Piet don’t submit samples to Gault Millau anymore and also had a falling out with a well-known English wine critic. So you won’t see their name hyped in the German press. Ulli gives his honest opinion and has a laid-back style while experimenting over the years with various methods, both in the vineyard and cellar.

He was one of the first to replant Pinot Noir before the ban was lifted in the late 1980s. Moreover, he makes a unique Riesling Auslese from tiny, seedless shot berries, unaffected by noble rot, which have an intense flavor. From these grapes he also hand-crafted in 2001 an Auslese fermented and aged on its lees for over two years in a new Allier cask with minimal handling. In addition, he has fought for the rights of small winegrowers being paid a pittance for their grapes in steep slate sites such as Bremmer Calmont and has been battling the authorities in Germany to bring back vin de paille taking this all the way up to the highest courts of the European Union.

I would define his style as racy and linear Riesling wines, whether dry, off-dry, or sweet. From his dry, easy-drinking liter, called “Der Traubenflüsterer” (grape whisperer), to his top Auslesen, one finds a common thread throughout his collection, namely finesse and acidity. He wants to avoid plump wines. When the hand-picked grapes arrive in the winery, he usually destems and does a short pre-fermentation maceration followed by a gentle pressing and a cool fermentation.

He seeks lower alcohol and higher acidity by harvesting at optimal ripeness rather than over-ripeness. Except for early-drinking summer wines aged in stainless-steel tanks, almost all his Riesling age at their own pace on their fine lees in large old-oak barrels (Fuder) with no enzymes or additives. The top single-vineyard wines ferment for the most part spontaneously, though he might add neutral cultured yeasts to a barrel if need be. Moreover, his vineyard care is close to organic. (Neither insecticides nor herbicides are used.) Stein’s yields are low. He leaves only one cane versus the heart-shaped two canes per vine. These are trained in the old manner on wooden stakes and tied down with willow by skilled women.

One of most idyllic sites along the Mosel Valley is the blue-slate, steep-terraced St. Aldegunder Palmberg-Terrassen, which is located in a small side valley, behind the village of St. Aldegund. His 86-year-old father still drinks his daily bottle of Stein-Wein and continues to nurture the ungrafted 50- to 100-year-old vines on this site.

Stein’s wines are reminiscent of Maximin Grünhaus (Carl von Schubert is a customer of his), namely more crisp, dry and off-dry selections rather than creamy and opulent in style. In the States, importers have shied away from bringing the dry Mosel Riesling to their clientele. Yet, these are some of my favorite wines for day-to-day drinking.

Also, keep an eye out for Hofgut Falkenstein, an unpretentious Saar domaine from Erich Weber, whom David Schildknecht introduced to me a couple years ago. Weber particularly likes to make steely down-home, dry-fermented Riesling aged in Fuder.

For our portfolio we have a first-class Saar domaine in mind…