Sometimes it’s only when you return to a place that you realise just how much you’ve missed it — and the person behind it. That’s exactly how I felt this spring when I finally made it back to visit Georg Lingenfelder in Großkarlbach after quite some time. I’ve known Georg since his debut vintage in 2020 and have followed his journey closely ever since. What began as curiosity has grown over the years into a genuine friendship. All the better, then, to spend an afternoon with him again — walking the vineyards, digging deep into his sites, and quite literally into the soil.
Max Kaindl, June 02, 2025
Reading time about 4 minutes
Georg Lingenfelder: Limestone. Sand. And an exciting Riesling debut.
Limestone. White. Pure. Stube.
First stop: Stube. We dig into the earth. Barely twenty centimetres down, there it is: bright white limestone. Hard. Dry. Sparse. Vines here grow under extreme tension. Water only comes from the deepest layers. No reserves. No buffer. The plants are forced to select. Small berries, low yields, maximum concentration.
You can taste it in the glass. These wines don’t put on a show. They are stripped back. Linear. Marked by salty precision. Limestone speaks softly. But its voice lingers.
Sand. Fine. Porous. Musikantenbuckel.
Next up: Musikantenbuckel. Just a few kilometres away — and yet a different world. Pure sand. Warm, airy, with no holding capacity. Water drains straight through, barely retained. The vines must adapt, response faster. “You can’t afford to slack off on canopy management here,” Georg says. Too much sun — and the berries burn. Too little — and the wine turns green.
The difference in character?
Musikantenbuckel gives more aromatics. More openness. None of the limestone tension, but a lighter, more playful profile.
Georg. No dogma. Plenty of conviction.
What impressed me again on this visit: how clearly Georg follows his own path. Yes, he’s a committed organic grower. But not one to wear it on his sleeve or apply it dogmatically. “For me, it’s about making honest wines. No show. No masquerade.”
Dry farming? Of course.
No filtration? Standard.
Minimal sulphur? Naturally.
But all done thoughtfully — not ideologically.
And you can feel that: his wines never seem self-consciously ‘different’ — they simply stand confidently on their own.
Back at the winery. Three wines. And one that lingers.
After our deep dive into the soils, we went back to the winery: a quick stop in the cellar (some fascinating barrel samples), then out into the courtyard. Spring sunshine, three wines on the table.
Morio Muskat 2023: floral, vibrant, pure joy.
Sylvaner 2023: dense, herbal-spicy, salty. One of the finest Sylvaners I’ve tasted outside of Franconia.
And then: Stube Riesling 2023.
Stube Riesling 2023. No compromises.
On the nose: ripe peach, lime, elderflower.
On the palate: salt, phenolics, chiseled structure.
What fascinates me about this wine: it doesn’t bend to please. The acidity isn’t pushed to the fore but carried by the limestone and herbal notes. This isn’t an ‘everybody’s darling’ kind of Riesling. It’s one that makes demands. That draws a clear line. And yet remains incredibly moreish.
Release: early June.
What stays with you after an afternoon like this?
Even greater respect for what Georg Lingenfelder is quietly — but consistently — building. His wines aren’t loud brand products, but honest, character-driven Pfalz wines with real depth. No calculation. No dogma.
And I’m certain: we’ll be hearing much more from this name in the years to come. I’ll be following closely.
Pictures: © The Art of Riesling – Maximilian Kaindl
