(by Manfred Klimek / Photo: Medienagenten / Location: Freundschaft Berlin / Animation: Runwayml)
The Lake Constance was for a long time the quiet fringe of German viticulture – barely known, as many regions in the east of the country still are today. Not a place for grand narratives, then, but neither a territory for vanities, more a transit zone between Württemberg, Bavaria and the south-western Alpine foothills. That is precisely why what is currently happening there is so remarkable. Twelve winegrowers have begun to free themselves from this administrative comfort zone. Not with pathos and marketing waffle, but with solid work on their own, refreshing style. And it is precisely in this style that the Lake Constance winegrowers’ greatest ace lies, because their wines, lighter, with less pressure, unmistakably more digestible, are exactly WHAT young wine drinkers want from wine today: reliable ease of living and drinking, without being bothered by masculine alcohol-percentage farting (the more alcohol, the better) and density fats (“fucking heavy wine”). The Lake Constance winegrowers are producing precisely that missing link which other regions lack, because they also have a different terroir climate.
Lake Constance is not an explicit terroir location. The soils are heavy, often rich, the water is close by, and yields have to be restrained. At the same time, the proximity to the Alps acts like a natural brake: cool nights, long growing seasons, an aromatic framework that does not inflate by itself. Anyone who aims for maximum fragrance loses out here. Whoever reduces, wins. That is precisely the common denominator of this group of winegrowers: scaling back crude aromatics, curbing ripeness, bringing out the individual sites. Not doing everything that would be possible – but only what holds up.
What is striking is the matter-of-fact approach to PIWIs, fungus-resistant grape varieties, which elsewhere are still treated as a moral obligation and recognised as odd. Here they are a tool. Johanniter, Solaris, Souvignier Gris – not as substitutes, but as an independent language. PIWIs at Lake Constance are not a renunciation, but a clarification.
The two sparkling wines make an early statement. Teresa Deufels’ “Sprudeldicke Drin” 2020 from Johanniter brings a nose that astounds: hazelnut, greengage, gooseberry, pineapple, plus something morbid that recalls great old Champagnes. The palate remains slimmer than the nose promises – a small disjunction, but not a fault. Haug’s Lindau sparkling wine seems more baroque, driven by apple and pear, rougher, less polished. Two styles that show: nothing is being copied here; things are being tried out.
The real work begins with the still wines. Schmidt am Bodensee’s Müller-Thurgau Drumlin 2024 is cool, taut, mineral, almost stubborn. No easy charm, no floral embrace. More a study in tension. Hendriks’ Sauvignon Blanc 2023 smells of limestone, of night, of the entrance to a Berlin club. Anyone looking for New Zealand is completely wrong here. Anyone looking for structure will be in the right place with both.
Lanz Wein demonstrates how seriously PIWIs can be taken. The Bodolz 2023 cuvée (Johanniter, Souvignier Gris) is nutty, lightly reminiscent of yellow plastic in the sun, then quince, apricot, peach – fleshy, but controlled. The Entenberg 2023 cuvée uses wood without putting it on display: slender, transparent, plenty of gooseberry, no drama. This is PIWI on an equal footing with classic grape varieties.
Chardonnay plays a surprisingly strong role. Kurek’s Nonnenholz 2023 is taut, elegant, reminiscent of great European models from the 1990s (Gaja’s Rossj Bass, Gantenbein), without becoming nostalgic. The two Chardonnays from Seehaldenhof – Seehalde 2021 and Sonnenbichl 2022 – show two sides of the same coolness: one stony and tannin-precise, the other rounder, with popcorn, pear and quince. No southern-fruit circus, no greasy film.
The Spätburgunders, finally, are perhaps the most astonishing part of this movement. Hendriks’ Seehalde 2022 is cool, fruity, finely lactic, with Campari-bitter elegance and a clear German signature. Kurek takes a more earthy approach: sour cherry, mushroom, damp forest floor. Haug deliberately remains gnarled, Gierer aromatically precise and slender on the palate. None of these interpretations seeks to please everyone – and that is precisely their strength.
What is emerging here is not a new German wonder region. It is something more inconvenient: a region that accepts that it does not have to make a noise in order to become relevant. Lake Constance is redefining itself – not through grape varieties, not through rankings, but through reduction, coolness and the courage not to exhaust aromatics every time. This is not a revolution. But it is a clean cut. Made without staging, for young wine drinkers who want to reconnect with wine as a cultural asset.
(More on the region and the individual winegrowers in WELT am SONNTAG in spring)