How it all began—with a bottle of wine. Or several.

The year is 2004. Aldo, freshly arrived from Tyrol, finds himself in the heat of New York, working at Le Bernardin, which he would later help shape as Head Sommelier. Gerhard, still known mainly as “Alois’ son,” is traveling through the U.S. to present his father’s legendary Trockenbeerenauslesen—and stops by. Sparks fly—professionally. Both were already wine-obsessed, already on the same culinary wavelength. The rest is history, but the real story kicks off in 2009.

That’s when they founded Sohm & Kracher. Not in Illmitz, not in New York—but in Austria’s Weinviertel. Why? Because this is where the potential for great, characterful Grüner Veltliner lies—on loess, clay, and limestone, in old-vine vineyards. The sites were available. No prestigious appellations, no marketing fairytales—just a pure focus on the wine.

Veltliner as it should be—and as it rarely is

It’s quickly clear that these two don’t do things halfway. The wines are crystal-clear, sharp, stripped of excess. And at the same time, deep—vertical wines, as the pros say. Tasting on site, I snapped to attention. These are definitely not Veltliners for your casual spritzer crowd. These are serious wines—with attitude, but no arrogance.

The “Lion,” their entry-level Veltliner, is as precise as a Swiss Army knife. Apple, pear, delicate spice—no fuss, no fluff. A wine that thinks out loud, but speaks quietly.

The “Alte Reben” shows more grip and density, but never shouts. The élevage is perfectly dialed in—no flashy oak, no overdone lees contact. Just substance that takes its time. You can taste the age of the vines—anonymous perhaps, but full of personality.

And then there’s the “St. Georg.” A revelation of what happens when you let old vines from the Weinviertel breathe. Herbal, ripe apple, layered tension—not a show-off, but a Veltliner with soul. And by the way: the 2018 vintage spent four years on full lees. Four. That’s rare today.

Why does it work? Because these two know exactly what they’re doing.

Aldo isn’t just someone who sells wine—he lives it. Every day at Le Bernardin, where he uncorks some of the world’s finest bottles. He understands their strengths, their flaws—and how they perform at the table. That perspective shapes everything. And Gerhard? Well, he’s a Kracher—literally. He continues his father’s iconic sweet wine legacy, but he’s also proven he can do dry. And modern. And precise

What impressed me most? Nothing here is left to chance—but nothing is overproduced either. The labels? Minimalist. The origins? Unflashy. The wines? World-class. Without ever screaming for attention. And that’s exactly what makes them so compelling.

Sohm & Kracher isn’t a vanity project with star power. It’s a serious attempt to give Grüner Veltliner a new stage. Away from the mainstream, toward character, depth, and intention. It’s a precisely crafted, honestly made answer to the question: What is Grüner Veltliner really capable of? And my answer is: a hell of a lot.