During our visit to the Emmerich Knoll winery, the first thing we discussed with the namesake owner was the soil. And it could not have been otherwise, considering the beauty of the Wachau on the grey yet snow-covered day on which we were guests at the estate. The man, heir together with his brother to a long line of Knolls who have made wine in the Wachau, shows great expertise.
Essentially, the word to know here is gneiss, the metamorphic rock which, in this case, formed about 350 million years ago from a mix of enormous pressure and extremely high temperatures. Depending on the pressure, amphibolites were also created, present in the various soils of the small Wachau. Especially in the area adjacent to the Danube, beneath the famous and splendid terraces, the ancient oceanic arm Tethys favoured the sedimentation that characterises the lower areas of the valley.
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1,300 hectares under vine and such geological variety can make your head spin, but it worth the effort of understanding it: the area is extremely valuable and over the decades producers have managed to give identity and relevance to the differences between the various ried, that is, vineyards. One thing that had escaped me when I asked to visit the winery (spurred by an incredible bottle of Grüner Veltliner Ried Loibenberg Smaragd 2021 and exceptional tastings at the Falstaff Weißweingala 2025) is that the younger of the Emmerich Knolls — who shares his name with his father — is also the president of Vinea Wachau, the association of local producers. Once I learnt it, I felt intimidated, but the man is affable and one immediately feels at ease.
To Work, Not to Suffer
One of the reasons why I love visiting producers is learning new notions or, even better, being contradicted in those I already have. Thus, speaking of the poor soil of the terraces, I quote the classic mantra: if the vine struggles to nourish itself, the wine will be better. Emmerich replies:
Do they really have to suffer? I think they are a bit like people, right? They need a challenge, a motivation to work, not suffering. If every day I had to feel pain just to have something to drink or eat, how good would my life be? How good would my work be?
Beyond the enthusiasm for such a stimulating point of view, far from the static formulas of wine magazines, it becomes immediately clear to me that behind the Knoll operation there is a philosophy. After all, large wineries fall into two categories: those driven by the accountant’s Excel spreadsheet and those inspired by the vision of the winegrowers. Both can produce excellent wines — but I am interested in visiting only the latter, and in this case I understand I am in the right place.

The Promise of Federspiel
And one point of Knoll’s philosophy is the valorisation of Federspiel wines. Broadly speaking, Wachau wines are divided into three categories based on alcohol level: Steinfeder, Federspiel, Smaragd. Having said that I have never encountered a Steinfeder, Federspiel wines go up to 12.5% alcohol and are therefore often mistaken for entry-level wines. In part they are, but the story is more complex.
Smaragd wines represent excellence, but they are not for every day; Federspiel wines, instead, embody everyday Wachau. In my view, especially at the table, Federspiel wines are always at ease, because they have drinkability and lightness. Smaragd wines, instead, need time to bloom, time both in bottle and during tasting; in fact they are often penalised at large events where many wines are on display: they are wines that require attention and availability to show their immense potential.
Federspiel wines are the advance on the promise that Smaragd wines make. This hic et nunc echoes that “to work, not to suffer” we spoke about earlier: certainly, the glass should not be obvious, but it should not necessarily suck you into its complexity either. We tasted more than a few Federspiel wines and the quality is truly high:
Loibner Grüner Veltliner Federspiel 2024
Still young. Very round and delicate, butter and white fruits, such as fresh pear, and mango. It reveals itself slowly, with a pleasant savoury finish. Perfect for the table.
Ried Trum Grüner Veltliner Federspiel 2024
Strongly Austrian. Rock depth, green apple, basil. A wine that goes straight to the point, sinusoidal acidity that grows strongly in the finish and great brightness.
Ried Kreutles Loibner Grüner Veltliner Federspiel 2024
This one is more fruit-driven. More outspoken than the Loibner, which also has less pedigree, but in terms of roundness rather than verticality like the Trum. Broad with aromas of apricot, in some ways a Riesling-like tropicality. Medium body and the spiciness of GV on the finish.
The Emmerich Knoll Estate
The history of the family estate is one of the most important in the Wachau, of which, together with the Hirtzbergers (whom I often taste at Wein & Co), the Pichlers and the Jameks, the Knolls are among the historic protagonists. The family has lived and cultivated these areas — initially not only vines, but also producing apricots and raising animals — since the beginning of the 19th century. From the post WWII period onwards, wine became the true asset of the Wachau and vineyards took over.
The hof, that is, the original farmstead, is still standing. It is there that Emmerich welcomed us and where he lives together with the family: parents, children, grandchildren. The beautiful and spacious building is crucial in the family’s journey, as is the nearby restaurant, also owned by a branch of the family. A great-uncle of the “young” Emmerich Knoll painted Saint Urban, the protector of winegrowers, on one of the restaurant’s walls. When production exceeded what could be sold through the restaurant, bottling became necessary and the Knolls thought of a label that would replicate the painting. The message was clear: “With our wine, you take a bit of the Wachau home.” Marketing was certainly not born yesterday.
The estate now owns just under 20 hectares, a considerable surface for the area. One third of the grapes processed then comes from purchases, which Emmerich is keen to specify are the result of long-standing collaborations with local producers who share the same farming philosophy. Between father and son there is continuity not only commercial: where the father contributed with a crucial role in making the Wachau what it is today, the son has the task of bringing it into tomorrow, as president of Vinea Wachau.
The Responsibility of the Wachau
It is difficult to explain to those who do not live in Austria what the Wachau is for the local market. From a macro perspective, it is an excellent wine region, where lovers of structured whites can find high-level oenological expressions. For Austrian consumers, the Wachau is synonymous with guarantee and prestige; for local producers from other regions, an ambition. Go to a local wine exhibition and you will find one area much more crowded than the others: that of the Wachau. The same phenomenon is evident at major Austrian trade shows like VieVinum 2026, where Wachau producers command significant attention from both trade and consumer visitors.
Vinea Wachau therefore is the architrave of the richest building in the Austrian wine village: founded in 1983, it predates by two years the Austrian wine scandal. Emmerich is keen to underline this, because producers did not unite as a reaction to market conditions, but as a natural form of aggregation, with the aim of valorising and regulating a terroir of excellence. Two years later, the Austrian wine market would collapse. Perhaps also for this reason today one perceives a certain coolness — if not distrust — between the Wachau and the rest of national production.
Partly to blame are also the Byzantinisms of the local regulatory system: Austria is small, but when it comes to bureaucracy it has great ambitions. The DAC system, the local AOCs, is relatively recent, have rules calibrated to the needs of regions that want to find their space in the market — certainly not the situation of the Wachau. In particular, DACs require only one or two distinctive varieties. However — Emmerich explains — the Wachau is much more than Grüner Veltliner and Riesling: it also includes Neuburger, Gelber Muskateller and others. Excluding these varieties from the name “Wachau” would have penalised, rather than helped, local producers.
The solution found shows enviable flexibility: to have Wachau on the label, the grapes must be hand-harvested (a founding principle of the production philosophy) and be part of a group of varieties that together covers more than 95% of the grapes produced in this area. To use instead the terms Steinfeder, Federspiel, Smaragd, the wines must belong to a selection of only nine varieties — among which of course the well-known Grüner Veltliner (which represents 64% of the grapes planted in the Wachau) and Riesling (18%). In this way, without ostracising producers who have “apocryphal” varieties, they are encouraged, when renewing vineyards, towards grapes that make the most sense in order to maintain territorial identity, in a process with a horizon of years, certainly not months.
Another challenge that Emmerich is very aware of is labour: to cultivate one hectare of vineyard in the area adjacent to the Danube (from which Federspiel wines often come), about 300 hours of work per year are needed; for one hectare on the more prestigious terraces, 1,500 are required. Almost a full-time worker for a single hectare. Beyond the economic challenge, there is also the difficulty of finding labour, especially if, like the Knolls, one wants to resort as little as possible to workers hired through “hand suppliers”, and instead seeks to build a workforce tied to the territory and the estate.
The parallel between the beautiful and difficult terraces and Dürnstein, the municipality of which Unterloiben — the village where the winery is located — is part, comes naturally. In Dürnstein stop the cruises that travel the Danube, loaded with tourists with bulging pockets but tight schedules, who disembark, take a photo, buy an ugly souvenir and leave again. The risk is the “Venetianisation” of the terraces as well: splendid postcard images that few are willing to maintain with commitment and work.
Certainly, Austrians have good taste when it comes to wine and still consume a large part of the wines produced within the national territory. The Smaragd wines tasted reconfirmed the extraordinary expressive elegance that I had already encountered in these wines.
Ried Schütt Loibner Grüner Veltliner Smaragd 2024
We were here for this, after all. Extremely precise nose of white pepper and crushed rock. Full body, but with spatial verticality and freshness. Perhaps slightly reduced, with flinty notes. Closes eternal, with pear flying over the acidity on the off-beat.
Ried Loibenberg Loibner Grüner Veltliner Smaragd 2024
Always Smaragd, always excellent, but here in a fruit-driven and very expressive key. It ranges from papaya to ripe apple, passing through wild herbs, with a nose of a thousand profiles and a full body capable of containing them all. One clearly perceives many aromatic and fleshy layers (excellent juiciness) that fortunately I will have time to decipher at home.
Ried Pfaffenberg Steiner Riesling Selection 2024
I did not know that a non-Wachau but Kremstal Knoll wine existed and I enjoyed encountering it. Very expressive nose of flint, white pepper and ash. Then a full body, but restless. Lots of spice and fine tannins and a finish with acidity that pushes it beyond the stars forever.
Ried Schütt Dürnsteiner Riesling Smaragd 2024
It struck me as twinned with the GV Schütt. Very direct and precise, acidic backbone that supports it perfectly in its slightly tropical but also very rocky profiles. Taut body, yet so voluptuous and never sterile. Enormous elegance.
Loibner Riesling Vinothekfüllung Smaragd 2024
Lots of roundness, as the style demands (it is made with the ripest grapes of the vintage, less terroir, more body). Notes of melted butter, ripe apple, ripe white peach, honeysuckle. The very rich body has honeyed echoes. Very long.
What stands out is the diversity of these wines, a mirror of the geological complexity of the Wachau. The technique is deliberately homogeneous: short macerations, brief ageing in used wood, small annual adjustments (such as removing bunches with botrytis, if present in quantity). A minimalist approach that allows one to taste the vineyard more than the producer’s hand – yet still remains the risk that Smaragd wines continue to be drunk too early, something that understandably troubles Emmerich. It is true: even today a 2024 Smaragd is extraordinary. But it is in the long term — 10, 20 years — that it can truly reveal all its greatness.
A Hof Full of People
When I visit a producer I try, even with a certain presumption, to read the person who creates the wines. I find it fascinating to relate the man or woman to their product. One meets thinkers full of ideas that resurface in the vibrancy of the glass, gruff people with friendly wines, shy iconoclasts. Emmerich Knoll was not easy to decipher.
Certainly, what one notices immediately is his instant affability, competence and fluent speech. If he were not a producer, he should be a mayor. And it certainly did not escape me how a person with his responsibilities — regional, national, generational — found the time to welcome us as if our visit was truly important. He was not hurried, nor arrogant, nor affected. He struck me as a person who has people as his unit of value, more than shop-floor calculations — because work, as he himself tells us speaking of the vines, makes sense if it motivates, not if it is an end in itself. An approach that above all requires great confidence in one’s means and certainty about who one is.
There is another aspect, however, that I noticed little by little as the visit to Knoll appeared in my rear-view mirror. Over the course of almost two hours at the hof, we witnessed many interactions. Emmerich’s wife discussed some domestic matters with him. Two of his children popped into the tasting room. Emmerich senior was nearby. A woman came in, carried out a task elsewhere, then left. As we were leaving we crossed paths in the parking lot with a van literally full of adolescents, at least some of whom I suppose are part of the army of 17 grandchildren of Emmerich Knoll the elder.
This is not just a winery, it is a home in which many lives unfold.
And perhaps this is the key to understanding the person and his wines. Emmerich Knoll does not work with the horizon of next year’s sales, but with that of the well-being of an entire ecosystem. That is why Smaragd wines only make sense if there are Federspiel wines. That is why the wines celebrate the terroir, not his hand. That is why we spoke much more about the Wachau than about his bottles. For Knoll, Wachau is not a label, but a goal that a community, not a single winery, can achieve.
Before leaving, Emmerich shows us a sign with the new slogan of Vinea Wachau:
“Viel Herz auf wenig Hektar.” (“Much heart on few hectares.”)
A heart so connected to its hectares that it is natural to think it will keep beating for a long time.

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