At the end of March, I returned to where it all began for me: the Mosel. Four days, twelve winemakers, countless conversations, barrel samples, and bottles pulled from deep cellar shafts, their labels cloaked in the dust of decades. It was intense. And I came back with a mix of fascination, frustration, and an urgent need to write this piece. Because what I experienced at the Mosel wasn’t just a visit to a wine region. It was a snapshot of one of the world’s greatest cultural treasures—grappling with the danger of marginalizing itself.
Max Kaindl, April 07, 2025
Reading time about 6 minutes
Mosel Report – it’s time to wake up
The Mosel is different. And that’s exactly its problem.
I love the Mosel. Truly. Those featherlight Rieslings, dancing with razor-sharp acidity and crystal-clear clarity—that’s world class. No other region can replicate that. Period. But that uniqueness? It’s currently being trampled.
The Mosel often acts like an isolated mountain village. Time runs slower here, much is still analog, and neighbors are more likely to be viewed as competitors than partners. While most wine regions have long recognized that the true competition isn’t the estate across the river, but the supermarket Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand or bulk Primitivo from Apulia, the Mosel is stuck in a 1987 mindset. Collaborate? Co-market? Create smart price structures? Not happening.
What shocked me most: the pricing chaos. One Grosses Gewächs at €23, another at €85—same label, same promise of quality. It’s not just absurd, it’s damaging. How is a consumer supposed to know what quality means? If you’re selling a GG for under €30, you’ve either lost the plot—or you’re willfully destroying the market.
Fear is devouring the Mosel
What’s paralyzing the region is fear. Fear of being too expensive. Fear of innovation. Fear of minimum wage, which—harsh as it sounds—could be the final blow for many smaller estates. Yes, that’s bitter. But burying your head in the sand is not a strategy. It’s a death sentence.
I’m not writing this to bash the Mosel. Quite the opposite. I’m writing because I can’t stand by and watch a true original be sacrificed on the altar of stubbornness.
The dry wine obsession – a dangerous dead end
There’s been a creeping trend for years now: everything suddenly needs to be dry. Even from the steepest slate slopes, where the wines are screaming: “Let me be fruity!” Why, for heaven’s sake, copy styles that are done better elsewhere? Why walk away from the very wines that once set global benchmarks?
Kabinett, Spätlese, Auslese—real, finely fruity Prädikat wines—aren’t relics. They’re the future, if we tell their story right. Lower alcohol, more finesse, more sense of place. Today’s drinkers want less alcohol, less weight, more freshness. And it’s all right here. Yet no one is talking about it.
Marketing from the mothballs.
The auctions? A tragedy. If you’re expecting people to pay five figures for a bottle of wine, you can’t offer a hotel conference room with neon lights and filtered coffee. Where are the stories? The stage? The international press and top sommeliers? If you want the world to listen, you have to invite it in. Instead, the Mosel prefers to stay in its comfort zone—then wonders why no one pays attention.
What needs to happen—now
Back to the roots: Lower the must weights. Kabinett should be Kabinett again. Spätlese shouldn’t be a hidden Auslese. Authenticity wins—especially in the glass.
Out of the comfort zone: Collaboration over competition. Unified pricing, clear communication of quality, and an end to destructive undercutting.
More focus on off-dry styles and food pairings: That sweet-sour-elegance-lightness combo? It’s better with modern cuisine than any Amarone. So why isn’t that being communicated?
Modern marketing: Not “everything was better in the old days,” but “what makes us unique today?” And then shout it from the rooftops.
Bottom line
The Mosel is not a museum. It’s not a nostalgic postcard for wine nerds. It is—or rather, could be—one of the most important fine wine regions in the world. But to get there, it needs to act. Together. Boldly. With vision.
I write this out of concern. And out of hope. Because I know what the Mosel is capable of. I felt it again during those four days. I tasted it, saw it, experienced it. And I want future generations to feel it too.
It’s time to wake up.
Pictures: © The Art of Riesling – Maximilian Kaindl
