From Cabinet to Kabinett
German wine has a well-deserved reputation for its intimidating nomenclature, but in the case of the easily pronounceable term “Kabinett”, it’s the history of the word that’s complicated. For hundreds of years it was spelled “Cabinet” and used unofficially to denote a wine that was deemed to have special characteristics, key among them being exceptional ripeness. The word referenced the secret chambers or “cabinets” within vaster cellars wherein a producers’ most prized bottles would be stashed away. Still today, some of the growers that we work with who occupy ancient cellars have schatzkammers within them—rooms where special bottles from great vintages slumber under lock and key.
By the 19th century, the term “Cabinet” was increasingly found on German wine labels—particularly, but not exclusively, in the Rheingau region. Connoisseurs would infer a wine made from overripe grapes, almost certainly harvested from a famous vineyard, and in exceptional cases the word was even used in tandem with “Auslese” to further bolster that prestigious designation. Despite its lack of official regulation, it’s clear that producers and traders of German wine didn’t use the word “Cabinet” casually or lightly.
In 1971, the German government initiated a new wine law that changed the meaning, and spelling, of “Cabinet” forever. The prädikatswein system within the new wine law established a quality hierarchy based on the ripeness of grapes at the time of their harvest. Within this hierarchy are specific categories of ripeness, the most modest of which was inexplicably designated “Kabinett”. It must be noted that most of the commodity wines made from Riesling in this decade didn’t qualify for any of the categories, and especially in challenging vintages, the achievement of Kabinett-level ripeness was considered commendable. The growing seasons were cooler then, and most growers didn’t farm with the meticulousness that they do today. Yet for several decades and up until very recently, Kabinett was viewed by many within the wine world as a vinous compromise to the richer, riper Spätlese and Auslese wines—not to mention the rare dessert styles that would qualify for the Beerenauslese and Trockenbeerenauslese categories.¹
Kabinett Gets Thick ‘n’ Sweet
As the decades passed, growing seasons became warmer and a particular flaw of the prädikatswein system became increasingly glaring. Although each category stipulates a minimum level of ripeness, no maximums are imposed, and while achieving Kabinett levels of ripeness might have been a challenge in the 1970s, by the late 1990s and early 2000s these minimums were effortlessly exceeded in almost every vintage. The fact that the fashion among journalists and consumers during these times was for opulent, richly hedonic wines didn’t help either, and not nearly enough of them championed the qualities that make German Riesling unique in the wine world—namely, the potential for intensity and complexity of flavour (not to mention unbridled drinkability) without an excess of weight or texture.
Noticing that richer and sweeter Rieslings tended to receive higher scores with critics and therefore engendered better sales, many winegrowers actively helped Mother Nature push their wines further in this questionable direction. By the late 2000s, most Kabinett Rieslings were riper and sweeter than the average Auslese from the 1970s, and these terms—along with Spätlese—could only be said to be indicative of style in a relative sense within a particular producer’s portfolio. There were German wine lovers at the time who argued that paying Kabinett prices for what is actually Spätlese or Auslese ripeness makes for great value, and there were others (like me) who bemoaned the increasing absence of Germany’s most singular and distinctive category. Ripeness for its own sake isn’t a virtue, and sweetness without other qualifiers isn’t worth celebrating either. In the meantime, one of the world’s most useful and inimitable wine styles was becoming an endangered species.
Lightness As a Virtue
Only in the past decade or so, a couple of circumstances have catalysed an undeniably positive change for Kabinett. The 2014 growing season offered winegrowers the first chance since at least 2008 to harvest modestly-ripe grapes for delicate, low-alcohol, low-sweetness, high-acid wines without radically adjusting their protocols in the vineyard. This was perfectly timed with the overdue swinging of a German wine pendulum. In recognition that light, off-dry Rieslings with intense and profound flavours are irresistible and more or less unique to Germany, a small number of high-profile producers—Keller and Schätzel in the Rheinhessen are of particular note—began to promote and price their single-vineyard Kabinetts in a way that raised eyebrows while demanding the attention, and eventually respect, from the wine-buying public.
The fact of the matter is that in the 1970s, the exceedingly ripe category of Auslese was only possible when particular weather combined with careful, strategic harvesting on the part of the winegrower. In what might be called an “average” vintage today, it’s Kabinett that requires an intentional pursuit if one wishes for their version to be a genuine example of the category. A winegrower must actively mitigate ripeness in the vineyard and time their harvest carefully, which can be done in various creative ways—all of which require some combination of effort, talent and determination. And then, every once in a long while, there’s a vintage like 2024…
In a way that’s become increasingly rare, the struggle to ripen grapes in Germany was very real in 2024, and the Kabinett level of ripeness served as a sort of natural average limit for sugar accumulation. So there’s an abundance of Kabinett which doesn’t automatically mean it’s a great vintage for the style—there's no shortage of lacklustre Kabis out there. But talented winegrowers who value Kabinett as a singular and crucial expression of Riesling succeeded in bottling fundamental masterpieces that embody the theoretical combination of a marginal 1970s growing season with today’s unyielding and highly-sacrificial pursuit of quality. Such Rieslings are electric, thrilling, crystalline, gossamer, excruciatingly flavourful, and virtually weightless with nuances that channel rocks, vapours, blossoms and dreams. At the very top level they tattoo themselves into the tongue with their relentless saltiness and are distinct from their commendable 2021 counterparts by being even more compact, dazzlingly pixelated, and gloriously precarious in their levitating harmony.
