(Manfred Klimek, editorial team, animated pic: runwayml)
There are a few careers, but not many in German winegrowing, that can be told almost too smoothly in retrospect: rise, clear direction, success – as happened to several people over the last twenty years; above all in Rheinhessen. With Jochen Dreissigacker, who runs the estate together with his congenial brother Christian, that would be too simple. I first met him almost twenty years ago, when he was still very young, with that slightly impatient charm that wants more than its surroundings could currently provide. At that time, Rheinhessen was many things, but certainly not a place that immediately made one think of modern, internationally accessible wines. That was precisely what appealed to him, and to wine figures such as Wechsler, Keller, Wittmann and Spanier-Gillot.
What followed is among the most precise modernisations German winegrowing has seen in the last two decades. Alongside Markus Schneider in the Palatinate, an alternative to the old-fashioned approach emerged here: clear labels, clear messaging, a style that did not seek to instruct, that did not invite endless discourse, but simply worked quickly. That was no coincidence, but calculation. Both Schneider and Dreissigacker understood that wine has to taste good enough for consumers to want a second glass, a second bottle. And that a generation was coming along which no longer had any patience for complicated narratives either. Yet complicated narratives did not therefore go out of fashion.
The fact that Dreissigacker (both brothers, although I only know Jochen personally) also fits this narrative well visually certainly did not do any harm. But reducing him to that would be cheap. The strategy was decisive: growth, yes – but not blindly. Rather, targeted growth towards where visibility is created: Berlin, luxury fine dining, places such as Grill Royal, Tim Raue and China Club. These are not random stops. They are stages. And Dreissigacker understood early on that you have to be present there if you want not merely to take part, but to have a say.
And then there is Pinot Blanc. A grape variety I had long dismissed with a polite nod. Nice, clean, inconspicuous. A wine for the second row. Dreissigacker saw his opportunity precisely there. Not because the variety is spectacular, but because it is not. You cannot hide anything here. No grand aromatic spectacle, no loud gesture, no terroir posturing. If you take Pinot Blanc seriously, you have to work precisely. And with wood. And that is exactly what he does – what the brothers do.
The extremely quaffable Pinot Blanc–Chardonnay cuvée at an almost laughable 15 euros is a good example of this. No great claim, no philosophical overstatement. Simply a wine that works brilliantly. Clear, uncomplicated, yet with a certain drive, with precisely the degree of structure needed to prevent you from forgetting it immediately. A drinking wine in the best sense.
Then the Pinot Blanc from the tonneau. 600 litres of oak, cleanly handled, with a toast that does not overdo it but fits perfectly. Here things get serious. The structure tightens, the texture becomes denser without becoming heavy. You can tell that someone here knows exactly how much wood he can allow himself – and how much he cannot. This is no coincidence; it is experience. And youth, too, even though Dreissigacker is already in midlife.
And finally the Einzigacker: a Pinot Blanc costing almost one hundred euros. One has to dare that first: to take a grape variety that many still regard as pleasantly inconsequential into this price bracket. The wine can carry it, there is no question. It is precise, deep and well constructed. But it is moving along a boundary at which one may begin to ask whether price and performance are still in balance. That question is part of it. And Dreissigacker knows this. But he also knows that even this wine sells well; it is currently sold out. He knows himself to be a good salesman.
That is his strength: that at every level he manages to please everyone. That he is prepared to take a variety such as Pinot Blanc so seriously that it suddenly takes centre stage. King of Pinot Blanc, if you like. A title delivered with a slight twinkle in the eye – and at the same time one that fits surprisingly well.
Because in the end it is not about whether Pinot Blanc is the most exciting grape variety in the world. It is not. It is about what one or more people make of it. And the Dreissigackers make something of it that we cannot overlook.