Quotes of the Day

Each year a closely followed auction takes place in the historic German city of Trier, where once the ruling prince-archbishops helped elect Holy Roman Emperors. These days, however, the bidding is not about princes and powers but about wine.

And the big story at the most recent auction last September was that a limited first release of 1994 Trockenbeerenauslese from the Scharzhofberger vineyard of Egon Müller in the Saar fetched a pre-tax price equivalent to $42,120 a case. Not even the most sought-after white wines from Burgundy and Bordeaux can match that money. At a Christie's auction in New York in November, for example, a case of 1967 Château d'Yquem (a great vintage for this legendary French sauternes) sold for a mere $14,375.

At the Trier auction strong bidding from around the world showed that Germany's quality estate wines are getting the international recognition and prices they deserve. But with stiffening competition — notably from low-cost wine producers in the New World — the big question now is whether the quality wines' success can rub off on the rest of Germany's wine industry.

It certainly needs help. A century ago the country's great wines ranked alongside France's finest in terms of price and reputation. In recent years, however, Germany's wine image has suffered. Like pork bellies or scrap iron, much of the wine crop is sold on price rather than quality: growers make their money by squeezing as much mediocre white plonk as possible from their vines. Most of this is then exported, since the Germans themselves increasingly prefer reds. Sweet, bulk-blended wines like liebfraumilch — a modest white with much to be modest about — may have initiated generations of drinkers, but such products have steadily lost market share to dryer, New World-style whites, notably chardonnay and sauvignon blanc. In Britain, Germany's biggest customer, consumption of German wine fell from 203 million bottles in 1989 to a low of 121 million bottles in 1997. The volume of exports to the U.K. has since rebounded slightly, but the value is down by more than a third since 1988.

With the harvest now in and the promising 2001 vintage busy fermenting in cellars, there's time to reflect on what needs to be done to improve the industry's prospects. Egon Müller jokes that things must surely get better because they can't get much worse. The big bulk producers who have done so much to ruin Germany's wine reputation are engaged in what he calls a "race to the bottom" that can have no winners. Small producers face huge cost pressures — particularly on the labor front — and baroque wine laws that seem to benefit only bureaucrats. "Germany produces a mere 3% of Europe's wine, yet we have 60% of the wine inspectors," complains top Mosel winemaker Ernst Loosen. Small wonder that each year more and more small producers give up the struggle and abandon their vines.

Although everybody agrees on the need to boost quality, few are prepared to act — for example by reducing vine yields. The basic German wine law equates quality with the ripeness (or sweetness) of the grapes used and makes no allowance for the skills of the winemaker or the pedigree of his vineyards. Worst of all, it indulges mediocrity. Each year about 95% of the vintage is classified as Qualitätswein — the equivalent of France's appellation contrôlée wine. "Something's wrong when practically every bottle can call itself quality wine," says Loosen. The problem is exacerbated by a labeling system that is designed to provide precise information about a wine's provenance, but is so confusing in practice that it allows poor wines to masquerade as good ones. "The only remedy is to go with the producer rather than the region or vineyard," advises Sebastian Thomas of London wine merchant Howard Ripley Ltd.

Fortunately for consumers — as well as the future of the industry — there is, as Thomas points out, "a new generation of talented German winemakers who are determined to restore their country's reputation by producing world-class wines." Many of them, like Mosel's Johannes Selbach and Karl Josef Loewen in Leiwen, are from families that have made wine for centuries. They are bringing new ideas and fresh dedication to the family business, often after studying and traveling abroad. Above all they are placing new emphasis on what the French call terroir — the complex interaction of soil, microclimate, topography and other local factors that lies behind all great wines. In a good year Selbach will make up to two dozen different wines, the better to reflect the specific character of several of the Mosel's finest vineyards. "Terroir has a lot to do with it," says Selbach, "although it's also because of the vagaries of nature." At the climatic limits of grape production, Selbach explains, even subtle weather variations can make a huge difference to the way wines are made and how they evolve.

The other reassuring development is the ongoing renaissance of riesling wines around the world. That can only be good news for the country where riesling was born and reached its pinnacle. "German wine has been deeply unfashionable," says Richard Berkley-Matthews of London's John Armit Wines, whose list has recently been bolstered by the addition of many top German wines. "But now, there's a new generation of discerning wine drinkers who have discovered just how great German rieslings can be and that there's more to white wine than the ubiquitous chardonnays."

In the hands of the new generation of winemakers, German reds are also beginning to dazzle. But for now it's the rieslings that are making noise, and one reason is their versatility. "The riesling is like a great actor who can play in all sorts of dramas," says Loosen. Center stage is still dominated by wines made in the traditional sweeter style that combines what Selbach calls the "ying of fruit" with the "yang of acidity." The latter gives the wines great staying power, with the result that a good riesling can still be improving after a decade or more in the bottle. The longer "hang time" required for grapes to ripen on the vine in high German latitudes also ensures they absorb more of the trace elements that contribute to a wine's character.

Germany's producers are also using riesling's versatility to make the dryer and stronger wines favored by the new generation of drinkers weaned on chardonnay. In some respects this represents a return to tradition. Back in the 19th century, when German wines were as highly regarded as those of France, the practice of the great estates was to make a single super blend of their best wines that was dryer and more alcoholic than the top rieslings of today. Selbach concedes the need to "weed out the zillion different styles" that abound. But he and other top producers are unlikely to stop producing wines that reflect terroir. "I would hate to see everything go into one big blend," says he.

Many growers are backing an effort led by the German Wine Growers Association to reclassify quality dry-style wines into "Classic" for good everyday drinking and "Selection" for higher-quality wines. The aim is to make these products more marketable with clearer, simpler labeling. Some growers fear the end result will be complication rather than simplification, but there's no doubt that the trend toward more consumer-friendly labeling has taken hold. One of Loosen's best-selling wines is called simply "Dr. Loosen," and starting with the 2001 vintage Karl Josef Loewen will produce a full-bodied, dry-style wine for the export market called "Christopher," after his first son. These wines may not fetch record-breaking prices at the Trier auction, but they should help spread the word about good German wine. High time too, or as they say in Germany, höchste Zeit — which loosely translated means go out and try some.

• CHRIS REDMAN / Bernkastel
• German wine is back in business