I’ve never been one of those people who spends long summer days wandering around vineyards like some wine-fuelled nymph. In fact, wine is still something I know very little about, but have come to appreciate it despite my lack of sommelier-knowledge/
Wine holidays and vineyard tours have had a renaissance in recent years, with tourists making pilgrimages to the Loire Valley, Provence, and Tuscany. But I found an gem which marries finesse and rustic in the most unexpected of places – and has to be on your radar.
A close friend of mine moved to Vienna last year, making Austria his new home after several years in the UK. The capital is often associated with its enthusiasm for Christmas markets, a dedication which London could only ever dream of.
But upon my return to Vienna at the end of June, and with a stark season change, wrapping up and drinking gluhwein was swapped for a Duke of Edinburgh-style trek to the city’s heurigers. A heuriger is best described as a ‘wine tavern’, offering homegrown wine, a buffet of local grub, all while sitting on wooden outdoor seating overlooking the city from the Nussberg hills.
Having put all my faith in my friend and trusty local tour guide, we set off from the tram stop in Beethovenpark and off piste into the steep hills swamped with luscious vines. Thankfully the trek to our first pitstop, Buschenschank Windischbauer, saved me from the embarrassment of proving just how unfit I am. The wine, clearly, would help.
Perched in the midst of the hill stood a quaint wooden shack surrounded by rows upon rows of vines. They have a natural and a traditional vineyard, we parked ourselves at the latter, with a small selection of their wines on offer.
Menus are written on a small chalkboard to reflect what’s on offer at the time. A bottle of Windischbauer (pinot blanc) will cost you a little over ten euros, which feels like a steal of a deal.
The rolling hills and panoramic views of Vienna were something I never associated with the city, but it just proves it’s a destination for all seasons. And the wine? It went down a treat.
You don’t usually think of wine being a popular export from Austria, but it certainly has a place at the table. Buschenschank Windischbauer is far removed from the city enough that all you feel is tranquillity, but you get to enjoy the cosmopolitan city and countryside all at once.
A lack of bodies exploring the hills doesn’t make it any less buzzy, it just gives you room to breathe. Heurigers also serve a small selection of local delicacies, most of which are accompanied with ‘spreads’, flavoured types of cream cheese (Liptauer). Think Austrian charcuterie boards loaded with meats, cheeses and freshly baked breads.
In contrast, Wieninger am Nussberg appeared to be much more of a lively hub. Slightly more elevated than our first stop, we got an even more expansive view of Vienna and its surroundings.
By mid afternoon I already found myself burning, so we sheltered in the shade nearer to the tavern, but there were plenty of spaces, not too dissimilar to a beer garden, to bask in the sun. This time we opted for a bottle of Wiener Grüner Veltliner, a dry and crisp wine which tingled the senses with sweet undertones.
Wieninger am Nussberg offered way more varieties, catering to all taste buds. But for someone with a less complex nose, the Wiener Grüner Veltliner is an uncompromising Austrian staple. If you want a true taste of Viennese wines, this is a perfect introduction.
As a self-proclaimed foodie, the lack of description on the menu offers a dive into the unknown. I had no idea what to expect and I’m glad about it, I wanted to be surprised with whatever landed in front of me.
My friend and I shared a Winzerplatte (charcuterie board) between us; a plate of Tyrolean-style bread with ‘bacon’ and horseradish, four unspecified glorious cheeses, paprika-infused Liptauer, pumpkins seeds, a small dark baguette (Rebstöckl by Müller Gartner), and a traditional potato salad, but not as we know it. It’s simplicity at its best, providing you only need a small collection of quality ingredients to create a platter fit for a king.
Chatter over sips of chilled vino encapsulates summer, but also reminded me how different our lives were after nearly a decade of friendship. It’s taken us from the UK’s south coast to the bright lights of London and Vienna, swapping snakebites for (not-so) civilised vineyard adventures.
Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any better, we waltzed along to our last haunt – Mayer am Nussberg – with views so enviable I didn’t want to leave. I’d found a happy place up in the mountains.
Lining the slopes were makeshift benches made of crates with a sandbox for children plonked in its midst. But we opted for one of the many romantic deck chairs overlooking the mountains. Think the seaside at altitude.
The buschenschank looked like a massive shed, fully equipped with a working rustic kitchen serving up boards, breads and sweet treats. I haven’t felt peace quite like sitting overlooking the weaving hills, drinking glasses of Grüner Veltliner. I could forget about the world around me because nothing else seemed to matter up there.
Armed with The Nussberg Classic board (smoked Emmerberger raw ham, farmer’s salami, sliced bacon, farmer’s cheese, pepperoni, farmer’s bread and homemade crispy mustard) and the Mayer’s Spread Board (cream cheese – herbs, legendary Liptauer, lard), we ate like the Greek Olympians. Each sip and bite brought a new flavour combination; a salt tang from the lard with sharp cheese, or fresh herb spread on filling bread.
I’ve never made it to the famous wine valleys of France, Italy or Spain, but I can wait. The simplicity of Vienna’s heurigers offers a flavourful experience without any of the pomp and pretentiousness of the famous vineyards which overshadow them.
If you’re after an experience off the beaten track, free from large groups of tourists, and a tasty glass of wine with your best friend, Vienna needs to be on your list. Its wine taverns, no matter how big or small, promise to deliver.