Issue link: https://digital.copcomm.com/i/31323
ON THE ROAD Going Deutsch I Florin Busch, 28, stands in front of the Mosel River. Behind him are some of his family’s vineyards, but few of the plots are adjacent. “We all have a lot of very small plots here, because historically, if a family had three sons, the vineyards were divided, and then divided again,” he explains. THE TASTING PANEL TAKES A TRIP TO THE MOSEL VALLEY story and photos by Rachel Burkons n 1900, the town of Traben-Trarbach along Germany’s Mosel River was the world’s largest wine-producing area outside of Bordeaux. At the time, the wines pouring out of Germany had gained a quality reputation as extraordinary—if sweet—Riesling. This style became Germany’s calling card during a period that saw a burgeoning of the world wine trade. But that reputation, as we learned on a recent trip to the Mosel, was deceptive. “The really good sweet wines of the late 19th and early 20th centuries were the exception to the rule,” explains Reinhard Löwenstein, a 13th-generation wine- maker whose family has been producing wine in the Mosel long enough to know that German Rieslings are so much more than sweet. “Riesling is not a taste—it is a grape,” says Löwenstein, offering a simple explanation as to the fluctuation in sweetness and quality in German wine over the past century. Following the ravages of World War II, during which many long- established, family-owned German wineries and vineyards were abandoned and destroyed (not to mention their cellars depleted by the thirst of invading armies), a return to peace meant a hasty return to wine production. What followed were decades of Riesling production that focused on quantity rather than quality, with the unfortunate side effect of tarnishing the country’s once-stellar reputation. Steep vines are bathed in early morning fog with sunny days and a bit of humidity. “We want the vines to fight,” says Florin Busch.