2011 Karlsmuhle Kaseler Nies`chen Riesling Kabinett Feinherb ($28)
If you know my wine taste, you know that I have a passionate love affair going down with the wines of the Mosel, from northern Germany. Whether the wines are dry, or off-dry, or rather sweet, Mosels have a tingling nervosity to them, a ravishing delicacy, that is rarely matched in other regions of the world, even in the wine regions of Germany. Many of the famous spots in what’s called the Middle Mosel—Bernkastel, Urzig, Wehlen—make wines of this ilk. If you want them racier still, you can seek out the wines from another amazing Mosel sub-region called the Saar (pronounced like “czar!”).
But there are spots in the Mosel that produce wines with a slightly greater richness to them. The trick in these wines…is keeping the Mosel raciness, despite the upped fleshiness. It takes a very special producer to pull off this trick.
And that’s when I turn to Weingut Karlsmühle, in a small valley off the Mosel called the Ruwer (pronounced ROO-ver).
I have known the wines of Karlsmühle for many years; I used to drink them in the U.S., going back to the early 1980s. But like many small-ish German producers, the economic travails of 2008 forced some American importers to stop importing.
So when I visited the famous Peter Geiben at Karlsmühle in January of 2014, he was looking for an American importer. Man, was I in the right place at the right time.
Peter produces only about 5,000 cases a year, almost all of it Riesling, much of it from fabulous vineyard sites in the Ruwer. Critics often speak of the spiciness in Peter’s wines, and I wholeheartedly concur. However, the one characteristic that truly knocks me out is concentration. Mosel wines are not supossed to have what wine geeks traditionally call “concentration”—but Peter’s wines have it in spades, while remaining Mosel-like at the same time.
A great example is this Kaseler Nies’chen Riesling Kabinett Feinherb. The second word is the name of the vineyard, in the town of the first word, Kasel. But the most confusing word is the last one, “Feinherb,” because its appearance on German labels has taken on a new meaning in recent years.
“Feinherb” now means, approximately, ”off-dry,” having replaced the word that used to indicate “off-dry,” which was “halbtrocken.” Winemakers lost faith in the designation “halbtrocken” about ten years ago, thinking that consumers were not understanding it. Frankly, I have no idea why they think “feinherb” is any easier to understand! But hard or easy, there it is: spot “feinherb” on a label today, and the wine will be off-dry (though there are no precise sugar limits set by the government).
The color of this one is just past water, and into pale straw-green. Peachy nose with glorious hints of honey, herbs, spices, and the elusive image I adore…saliva-on-skin. Petrol and minerals are waiting in the wings to start developing. A rich Mosel in perfect harmony: off-dry, great acid, barely perceptible alcohol.
A great sipper all on its own, but it will definitely take to salty foods, or foods with a little sweetness. A perfect example of the former would be smoked salmon; a perfect example of the latter would be a pork roast with apples in the bottom of the pan. And in case you’re planning to crack into a terrine of foie gras at New Year’s time…this would be a wonderful accompaniment, the extra richness suiting the wine for foie gras more than most other off-dry Mosels!
