In spring fever for Mosel Riesling, wine critic Eric Asimov of the The New York Times and a tasting panel judged 20 Kabinett wines from the 2008 vintage. Their top choice was from A.J. Adam. As good as the Hofberg Riesling Kabinett is—and we do like the wines from Andreas Adam, too—what has been lost in the article and corresponding blog post is a broader explanation of the term Kabinett. It’s usually been assumed by many German wine lovers, especially in the States, to be (when well made, of course) a delicate sweet wine with a wonderful balance between fruit and acidity, almost coming off as drier than it really is, especially in certain vintages with sufficient acidity and some bottle age. Yet, this is only one of the styles of Kabinett, there are also Kabinett trocken (dry) and halbtrocken/feinherb (off-dry) that deserve more recognition abroad and can be just as fine and delicate as their sweeter counterparts, even if the trend among producers nowadays is to downgrade their Spätlese trocken as Kabinett trocken or to entirely rename their dry-tasting Rieslings without a Prädikat designation.
Besides top famous estates such as Joh. Jos. Prüm or Schloss Lieser, and ignoring the tasting panel results for a moment, there are a number of other fruity Mosel Riesling Kabinett wines worthy of mention from the ’08 vintage, among them Enkircher Ellergrub from Weiser-Künstler, Ürziger Würzgarten from Jos. Christoffel jr., and Scharzhofberger from Egon Müller, who has various bottlings of Kabinett, even though some critics feel the real quality starts at Spätlese for this renowned Saar estate. It’s also worth noting that all the above producers specialize in sweeter-style Riesling.
Earlier this month at a dinner, Carl von Schubert, owner of the prestigious Maximin Grünhaus in the Ruwer Valley, explained that residual sugar levels for Riesling Kabinett have increased significantly over the last three decades from about 20 to 30 grams per liter residual sugar (equivalent to today’s Riesling Kabinett feinherb) to well over 60 or more. Put differently, sweetness (not just ripeness) levels have risen, often impressing certain critics and drinkers alike. He was only referring to the so-called “classic” fruity-sweet Kabinett—when the wine-maker purposely stops the fermentation, usually by temperature control and sulfur, to leave a certain level of sugar in the finished wine. Von Schubert has always made, alongside his sweet wines, traditional light-bodied dry and off-dry Rieslings (including Kabinett), which happen to represent the majority of his production, similar to Stein in our portfolio. For example, Ulli Stein likes to make from his 100-year-old vines in St. Aldegunder Himmelreich both Riesling Kabinett trocken and feinherb bottlings. The grapes from these old ungrafted vines in this stony, east-facing plot fully ripen at lower must weights than clones do and are ideal for Kabinett. He neither makes a fruity-sweet Kabinett nor a dry Spätlese from this site, rather a true dry Mosel Kabinett as he sees it.
Before the 1971 German Wine Law was enacted, unchaptalized wines were simply labeled naturrein (“naturally pure”). These were often fermented until they stopped on their own towards dry or off-dry. Unlike Spätlese, which would have some discreet sweetness (pre-sterile filter) and was redefined under the 1971 Wine Law, the Prädikat termed “Kabinett” was a new designation altogether and has since become synonymous in export markets, in particular, for delicately sweet, low-alcohol Mosel Riesling à la Joh. Jos. Prüm or Fritz Haag. With 10 years or more bottle age, good examples of this now-classic style come across less sweet and can show wonderful balance. The old term Cabinet, which originated in the Rheingau, had no relation and meant instead a special reserve bottling. For example, in the late eighteenth century Schloss Johannisberg bottled “Cabinet” wines that were nobly sweet.
The 1971 Wine Law and subsequent amendments created today’s Prädikat system by linking specific minimum ripeness levels of the grapes at harvest to different terms: Kabinett, Spätlese, Auslese, Beerenauslese, Trockenbeerenauslese, and Eiswein. Kabinett has the lowest ripeness level (73° Oechsle on the Mosel) and, as mentioned above, can be fermented dry, off-dry, or sweet. In other words, two scales exist: one indicating ripeness of the grapes at harvest, and the other measuring the residual sugar in the finished wine. This was the case from the outset of the ‘71 Wine Law, that is German wine-makers could produce Kabinett trocken and halbtrocken (or feinherb) as well as those with more noticeable residual sugar. In any of its variations, it’s meant to be lighter than a Spätlese from the same producer and vintage, for the grapes were picked earlier. Because there is no maximum Oechsle or alcohol level, most Riesling Kabinette are actually (declassified) Spätlesen or Auslesen in must weight. Producers frequently want to impress journalists this way. In addition, with climate change, some recent vintages have had extreme ripeness levels early on, which results in both higher must weights and sweetness levels. So much depends on the yields, the time of picking, and the physiological ripeness of the grapes. Furthermore, the trend at the moment, especially among the elite winegrowers’ association, called the VDP, is to phase out the terms trocken and halbtrocken for Riesling Kabinett, Spätlese, and the seldomly used Auslese (trocken) in favor of a Gutswein/Gutsriesling (Estate wine), an Ortswein (village wine), and a Grosses Gewächs (grand cru), somewhat following the system in Burgundy. Although much of the VDP’s reasoning makes sense (disregarding the elitist tendencies), it brings with it all sorts of other complications.
Lastly, some critics have argued that dry Mosel Rieslings, especially Kabinett, taste shrill and the only good examples have sweetness. An importer even wrote that Germans like to drink Sprüdel (sparkling water), hence their proclivity for dry, insipid wines. It’s similar to those that say great dry German Riesling only comes from Rheinhessen or Pfalz, but not from the Mosel. As with sweet wines, there are certainly plenty of poorly made dry Mosel Riesling, whether tart, bitter, or clumsy. In regard to preferences, many locals favor the sweeter styles, especially Kabinett, but the French also lean more towards drinking dry wines, an experience we know firsthand from our portfolio tasting events in Paris over the last several years. And the best dry wines from the Mosel measure up against any region in Germany and beyond.
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.
