Under the onslaught of record-breaking drought, the Neusiedlersee is posing new conundrums for Austrian winegrowers. And this isn’t the first time.
Writer
David Schildknecht trained in philosophy and worked as a restaurateur before spending a quarter century in the U.S. wine trade. His tasting reports, ones from Austria and Germany prominent among them, have since the late 1980s been fixtures of Stephen Tanzer's International Wine Cellar; Robert Parker's Wine Advocate; and, since 2015, Vinous. A columnist and feature contributor for Wine & Spirits, The World of Fine Wine, and Austria’s Vinaria, he is responsible for the German and Austrian entries in the The Oxford Companion to Wine and a co-author of the 7th edition of Robert Parker's Wine Buyer's Guide. David has also addressed issues of aesthetics in contexts academic and otherwise, and his life in wine leaves time to pursue his passions for cooking, music, history, and his infinitely tolerant wife of five decades.
This article is an excerpted chapter from We Don’t Want Any Crap in Our Wine (2019). After the book went to print, the Rennersistas informed the author that Susanne Renner left the winery, which will now be run by siblings Stefanie and Georg. In 2015, Susanne and Stefanie Renner took over the family wine business in Gols, Austria and became their parents’ bosses. In short order, the sisters converted to biodynamics and created their own line of wines, Rennersistas, in addition to the family’s traditional red Renner cuvées. Ever since, Susanne and Stefanie have reveled in the freedom of making…...
The scent of pine trees is a time machine, a brusque mix of barbed, balsamic beauty. I have a million pine memories. One good whiff and I’m transported home, sap streaking the inside of my scraped arms as I scale the tall white pine in our neighbor’s backyard, lunchbox dangling from the rear belt loop of my short pants. Lost in a cross-hatching of aromatic needles. I’m in the warming house of the town rink, my toes aching with cold. Silhouetted skaters float and spin on the bumpy ice outside. A pine fire acrid with resin heaves black smoke up…...
Two wine luminaries reflect on the complex and challenging process of taking Austrian vineyard classification from bill to law.
It’s hard to think of any one who has had greater influence over where Austrian wine is heading than Schloss Gobelsburg proprietor and Austria’s Traditionsweingüter (ÖTW) chairman Michael Moosbrugger. In part two of their conversation, David Schildknecht sounds out Moosbrugger on classification, appellation, and how music can illuminate wine. The following interview – translated and edited by the interviewer – was conducted in writing as well as orally in spring 2022. Occasional excerpts from earlier conversations and correspondence have been interpolated. Consolidation under topical headings as well as the insertion of punctuation were at the interviewer’s discretion in an effort…...
In Vulkanland Steiermark — “volcanic Styria” — the name says it all. Some 1,500 hectares of vineyard are, for the most part, sited on the slopes of extinguished volcanic cones that rise from a gently hilly landscape. Here Pannonian warmth from the east meets the Illyric balminess of the Adriatic. Among the best-known growers in Vulkanland are Weingut Neumeister, Winkler-Hermaden, and Ploder-Rosenberg. As throughout Styria, white varieties are most strongly represented, with Welschriesling and Weißburgunder (aka Pinot Blanc) statistically far in the lead, followed by Sauvignon Blanc, Müller-Thurgau, and Chardonnay; Zweigelt yields respectable red wines here as well. Traminer from…...
Djuce first entered my periphery late last year at the New York City iteration of Karakterre’s natural wine fair. Amid a cheerful invasion of producers from what has winningly been dubbed “the Austro-Hipsterian Empire,” I narrowed my focus to taste at some touchstones of Austrian natural wine — Judith Beck, Zillinger, Heinrich, Meinklang, Nittnaus, Weninger. Hurrying between offerings of electric-amped Grüner Veltliner and ethereal Blaufränkisch, I brushed by a small table stacked with slim, colorful cans and a paper sign that read “Djuce.” I paused just long enough to register an internal eye roll at what I assumed was the bro-culture spelling and reflexive ecoism of yet…...
© 2026, TRINK Magazine. No portion of this article may be copied, shared or re-distributed without prior consent from TRINK.
