The Story
Say "Mosel" and everyone pictures slate. Jonas Dostert farms the other Mosel — the Obermosel, upriver toward the Luxembourg border, where the rock underfoot is shell limestone rather than slate and where a young grower can plant Chardonnay without anyone calling the police. Dostert has become one of the most talked-about new names in German wine precisely because he ignores the postcard: low-intervention cellar work, minimal handling, and a set of wines that taste like the chalky ground they came from. This Chardonnay is lean and chiseled rather than buttery — citrus, orchard fruit, crushed stone, and a saline snap on the finish that is pure limestone. If your idea of German wine stops at Riesling, this is the bottle that reopens the argument.
Description
Say "Mosel" and everyone pictures slate. Jonas Dostert farms the other Mosel — the Obermosel, upriver toward the Luxembourg border, where the rock underfoot is shell limestone rather than slate and where a young grower can plant Chardonnay without anyone calling the police. Dostert has become one of the most talked-about new names in German wine precisely because he ignores the postcard: low-intervention cellar work, minimal handling, and a set of wines that taste like the chalky ground they came from. This Chardonnay is lean and chiseled rather than buttery — citrus, orchard fruit, crushed stone, and a saline snap on the finish that is pure limestone. If your idea of German wine stops at Riesling, this is the bottle that reopens the argument.
