Our earliest contact in Germany came by way of Thomas Hähn, a young German who worked with Dave when he was at WineAccess, the company that developed and hosts our e-commerce web sites. Thomas’ sister Irmy is married to Andreas von Canal (shown in photo), proprietor and winemaker at Weingut Freiherr von Heddesdorff in the village of Winningen near Koblenz, where the lower Mosel joins the Rhine.

Weingut von Heddesdorff is in the first rank of producers in the district (and one of the oldest – the winery has operated continuously since 1424), and in addition to supplying Moore Brothers with distinctive, creamy textured, mostly dry Rieslings, Andreas and Irmy have generously housed, fed, and encouraged us with information leading to some of our favorite producers in other regions.

Posted by Greg Moore

Jochen “Opa” Ratzenberger

The view through the bedroom window is dominated by the towering hill of the Steeger St. Jost. We linger over an old Kabinett with “Opa”in his rose-garden. He thinks I’ll understand more of his musical German if he gets very close and speaks very slowly. I always feel at home here…
Greg Moore

Weingut Ratzenberger in New Jersey
Weingut Ratzenberger in Delaware
Weingut Ratzenberger in New York

Posted by Greg Moore

I do encounter it less frequently these days, but all of us who man the tasting table at Moore Brothers (especially when we have visiting producers from Alsace and Germany) still hear it often enough: “I’ll pass on the Riesling. I only like dry wine.”

Of course, the likelihood is that the Riesling in question is drier than most California Chardonnays, but that’s not the point. We all prefer sweet ripe fruit to sour green fruit. Probably eat ice cream, too. In fact, we all like sweet things. We’re primates, aren’t we?

“I’ll pass on the Riesling. I only like dry wine.”

Now I’m only a huckster, but believe it or not genuine wine authorities like Hugh Johnson and Jancis Robinson are happy to proclaim their opinion that Riesling is the king of grapes; more noble, in fact, than Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, or Chardonnay.

Here’s why:
Riesling describes in detail – eloquently – exactly where it grows, provided it’s happy where it grows. It’s like a sensitive FM tuner that finds the “frequency” of each unique location, and amplifies it. So a wine made from Riesling grown in the Rheingau could never be mistaken for a wine from Alsace or Lake Seneca.

Pinot Noir alone is as sensitive to its environment. So it’s no coincidence that Pinot Noir and Riesling were selected by the monks, who were the stewards of viticulture in the Rheinland and Burgundy through the centuries between the fall of Rome and the French Revolution.

And because even very ripe Riesling retains high levels of acidity, both dry and sweet wines can be made. And sweet wines made from Riesling are never stupid sweet like cotton candy at a baseball game. They’re sweet like ripe fruit. In fact, the really distinguishing characteristic of Riesling isn’t sweetness. It’s acidity.

And Riesling gives some of the longest-lived natural wines, which can evolve over decades in a cool cellar, developing aromatics and flavors that can barely be inferred in the young wine.

All that explains why British aristocrats of the early twentieth century routinely paid more for fine German Rieslings than for classified growth Bordeaux. They recognized among them some of the finest wines in the world.

Remember, there are only two kinds of wine in the world: good wine, and the other kind. We’ll only offer good wine for you to taste, so don’t let a bad experience you may have had with a terrible wine that happened to be sweet (or white, or red or whatever) deter you from trying everything on the tasting table at Moore Brothers. We only have good wine, not “the other kind.”

Posted by Greg Moore

The Rheingau renaissance began in the 1980's, with producers like Robert Weil and Bernhard Breuer. In the 1990's another half-dozen small family producers joined them, with Peter Jakob Kühn heading the list of the very best. Peter farms biodynamically, without the labor saving benefit of herbicides, and ferments his Reislings on the natural, ambient yeast.

Though a very traditional winemaker, he is fearless in his willingness to adopt new methods when they are shown to yield better results. For example, after much of his 1999 harvest was spoiled by tainted corks, Peter Jakob Kühn joined the ranks of other courageous producers around the world, unhesitatingly adopting stainless steel caps and Stelvin caps in place of corks, even for his most expensive wines.

In 1991, Peter won the prestigious Feinschmecker award for the best dry Riesling in Germany. In March 2002, the Deutsches Weininstitut selected his Oestricher Doosberg Riesling Spätlese trocken 2000 to represent Germany at the European Wine Council Annual Gala Dinner held at Le Cirque in New York. The only source in America was Moore Brothers, so we sent three cases for the event.

Posted by Greg Moore

The Libbeys glass is a better glass than the Waterford goblet, and that’s not a matter of arguable opinion. It’s a matter of chemistry, aerodynamics, and physiology, which unlike arguable opinion deal with properties of the real world. What makes a good glass is its shape, not its cost.

Keep in mind that learning the mechanics of good wine tasting technique, and acquiring the habit of good wine drinking technique, aren’t all you need to do if you want to become a good taster.

Good glasses have sides that curve inward towards the opening. They contain and protect a volume of air above the surface of the wine, where aromas accumulate; and keep it in the glass. Straight-sided, flared glasses like the Waterford “Lismore” goblet actually encourage turbulence, which forcefully pulls aromatics away from the surface and out of the glass, every time you move it. They make the wine taste watered down, compared with the same wine in a good glass.

Of course, no glass will serve its purpose if it’s overfilled. If there’s no air space at all above the surface of the wine in your glass, you won’t be able to smell it at all. So when you pour wine, leave plenty of room for your nose. Think of the way you eat bread at dinner. You break off and butter a little at a time. Filling wine-glasses to the top (which I guess people habitually do because its easier than pouring several times) isn’t unlike like slathering a whole baguette with a stick of butter and eating it like a hoagie.

Keep in mind that learning the mechanics of good wine tasting technique, and acquiring the habit of good wine drinking technique, aren’t all you need to do if you want to become a good taster. You need to apply the discipline of good tasting technique consistently, especially when tasting wines that you expect you won’t like.

The single most difficult obstacle to learning will be the urge to react to an unfamiliar wine with “I like it” or “I don’t like it,” before you’ve made an effort to taste it carefully, without prejudice. Only experience with a wide variety of wines will help you overcome it.

Posted by Greg Moore