A dry Mosel white that tastes more like Chablis or the Savoie than anything you expect from this river — which is exactly the point. Julien Renard works the vertiginous cliff terraces above Winningen in the Terrassen-Mosel, some of the most dramatic vineyard landscape anywhere, and he got there by an unlikely route: French father, German mother, no wine family at all, and a first love of theatre that he left for the physical work of wine. The house style is early picking and bracing acidity, then a long rest on fine lees that buffs the wine to a satiny, almost porcelain-smooth texture — dense and compact but layered, with citrus oil, mint and salt running through it. 2024 was a cruel year in Germany: two nights of frost at the end of April caught green shoots that a mild winter and warm March had pushed out early, and the valleys and side valleys took the worst of it. That makes this bottling a small thing, and the fact that it arrives with this much polish intact says a great deal about the hands behind it. If you've been curious about the new generation remaking Mosel in a dry, mineral register, start here.