(Manfred Klimek, Editorial Team, animated image: runwayml)
There are a few careers – though not many in German viticulture – that, looking back, can be recounted almost too smoothly: rise, a clear path, success – as has been the case for some over the last twenty years; particularly in Rheinhessen. In the case of Jochen Dreissigacker, who runs the winery together with his like-minded brother Christian, that would be far too simple. I met him nearly twenty years ago; he was still very young back then, with that slightly impatient charm of someone who wanted more than his surroundings could currently offer. At that time, Rheinhessen was many things, but certainly not the sort of place where one immediately thought of modern, internationally competitive wines. That is precisely what appealed to him – and to wine figures such as Wechsler, Keller, Wittmann and Spanier-Gillot.
What followed ranks among the most precise modernisations that German viticulture has seen in the last two decades. In parallel with Markus Schneider in the Palatinate, an alternative to the old-fashioned approach emerged here: clear labels, a straightforward message, a style that did not seek to lecture, that did not invite endless discourse, but simply worked straight away. This was no coincidence, but a calculated move. Both Schneider and Dreissigacker understood that wine must taste in such a way that consumers crave a second glass, a second bottle. And that a generation is following in their footsteps that, too, has no patience left for complicated narratives. Yet complicated narratives did not go out of fashion as a result.
The fact that Dreissigacker (both brothers, though I only know Jochern personally) also fits neatly into this narrative visually certainly didn’t do any harm. But to reduce him to that alone would be too simplistic. The strategy was crucial: growth, yes – but not blind growth. Rather, targeted growth where visibility is created: Berlin, the luxury dining scene, places like Grill Royal, Tim Raue and the China Club. These aren’t random stops along the way. They’re stages. And Dreissigacker realised early on that you have to be present there if you want not just to play along, but to have a say.
And then there’s the Pinot Blanc. A grape variety I’d long dismissed with a polite nod. Nice, clean, unassuming. A wine for the second tier. Dreissigacker saw his opportunity precisely in that. Not because the variety is spectacular, but because it isn’t. You can’t hide anything here. No grand spectacle of aromas, no loud gestures, no fuss about terroir. If you take Pinot Blanc seriously, you have to work with precision. And with oak. And that is exactly what he – what the brothers – do.
The extremely easy-drinking Pinot Blanc–Chardonnay cuvée, at an almost laughable 15 euros, is a good example of this. No grand pretensions, no philosophical grandstanding. Simply a wine that works a treat. Clear, uncomplicated, yet with a certain intensity, and with exactly the right amount of structure to ensure you don’t forget it straight away. A wine for drinking in the best sense of the word.
Then there’s the Pinot Blanc from the tonneau. 600-litre oak, expertly crafted, with a level of toasting that isn’t overdone but fits perfectly. This is where things get serious. The structure tightens up, the texture becomes denser without becoming heavy. You can tell that someone here knows exactly how much oak they can get away with – and how much they can’t. That’s no coincidence; it’s experience. And youth, even though Dreissigacker is already in the prime of his life.
And finally, the Einzigacker: a Pinot Blanc for nearly a hundred euros. It takes real courage to do that: to take a grape variety that many still consider pleasantly unremarkable into this price bracket. The wine can certainly carry it off, no question. It is precise, deep and well-structured. But it treads a fine line where one might start to wonder whether price and quality are still in balance. That’s part of the deal. And Dreissigacker knows it. But he also knows that even this wine sells well and is currently sold out. He knows himself to be a good salesman.
That is where his strength lies: in his ability to please everyone at every level. In his willingness to take a variety like Pinot Blanc so seriously that it suddenly takes centre stage. ‘King of Pinot Blanc’, if you like. A title that comes with a slight wink – and yet fits surprisingly well.
Because ultimately, it’s not about whether Pinot Blanc is the most exciting grape variety in the world. It isn’t. It’s about what one or more people make of it. And the Dreissigackers turn it into something we simply cannot overlook.