(Editorial team)
Small shifts in everyday life through which one recognises major crises. Not in editorials, not in columns of figures, not in the industry's ever-identical complaints. But in places where we would not expect them. In Berlin, for example, in the Späti. Among mate, beer and cigarettes. There they are now. 250 millilitres of wine. Screw cap. Very often an organic seal. Pinot Blanc, Riesling, Pinot Grigio. Rheinhessen. Bottled in Ürzig on the Moselle. Bottles one has seen a thousand times before, but now in a form one previously knew more from aeroplanes or the minibar. And suddenly it all makes sense. Because these small bottles are not a gimmick. They are a symptom.
The tanks are full. In Germany, in Italy, in France. Too much wine, too little thirst. The past few years have produced a wave that is now slowly receding, exposing everything that had been covered for too long: overproduction, overestimation, oversupply. And these hectolitres have to go somewhere. So they go where there is still movement. Into the city. Into the Späti. Into the moment. The Späti is a phenomenon in its own right anyway. A place without pathos, without staging. No tasting table, no sommelier, no discourse. Instead, light that never quite goes out, and a clientele that does not ask but takes. Here, things are not collected; they are consumed. Immediately. Directly. Without detours. And that is precisely what these 250-millilitre bottles are made for.
A glass of wine, perhaps two. No commitment. No bottle that one has to “open”. No remainder standing around in the kitchen the next day, waiting to be cooked off. Instead, a product that adapts to life, not the other way round. The really interesting thing is this: around 80% of them are organic wines. Four or five years ago, that would still have been a no-brainer. Organic, biodynamic, sustainable – that was the entry ticket to a financially strong, committed consumer group. Today, those very wines are standing in the Späti. Not as a statement, but as an attempted solution in a difficult period for winegrowing. This is no coincidence. Organic has not lost its moral charge, but it has lost its economic self-evidence. Demand has become more selective, more cautious, and also more tired. And suddenly the label is no longer enough to make the bottles move. So it has to move. Out of the specialist trade and into the night.
And there it works surprisingly well. Because the calculation is clear: Späti prices are 50 to 70 per cent higher than those at the discounter. Everyone knows it, everyone accepts it. You pay for availability, for convenience, for the moment. And this is precisely where an oversupply suddenly becomes a business model. The wines themselves? Decent. Cleanly made. Technically correct, without any ambition to greatness. No faults, but no stories either. Wines that do not rub anyone up the wrong way, do not linger, and do not want to be discussed. You take the bottle from the fridge, give it a quick turn, read “organic”, read “Riesling”, pay, open it. The first sip happens on the street. And if it works, everything is fine. No one here asks for more.
It is a new form of wine drinking. Disconnected from ritual, disconnected from occasion. Almost incidental. And at the same time highly functional. That this development is emerging from a crisis is no contradiction. On the contrary. Wine was always at its most interesting when it had to move. When it was forced to take new paths, find new forms, occupy new contexts. The 250-millilitre bottle in the Berlin Späti is one such context. Perhaps not a beautiful one. Not a romantic one. But an honest one. And if you look closely, it is more than just a vehicle for selling off stock. It is a testing ground. For new consumption habits, for a generation that drinks less but chooses more consciously, for situations in which wine is no longer the centre of attention but wants to be an ordinary companion. For an industry that is currently learning that it is no longer automatically needed, but has to explain itself, adapt, and sometimes even reinvent itself. Wine now stands between an energy drink and mineral water. And it has to hold its own. That is new. And quite revealing.