In 2013, I moved to Austria and spent most of a year living in the small town of Eisenstadt. There were several cultural difficulties to surmount, not least the language. Despite my decent grasp of German, I found the Austrian dialect all but impenetrable for the first few months. And then there were the drinking customs. Because Austria had forged an impressive international reputation for elegant, high-quality wines, I expected to spend my time savoring delicious Blaufränkisch, or getting to know the top single-vineyard sites of the Wachau. But everywhere I went people just drank a mix of cheap white…
Simon J. Woolf has been writing about wine since 2011 in magazines, books, on and offline. He writes about what he personally likes to drink, and the overarching themes he covers - organic and biodynamic farming, sustainability, low intervention, natural and orange wine - all represent his own deeply held beliefs and passions. His first book "Amber Revolution - How the World Learned to Love Orange Wine" has become the go-to guide to this wine category. "Foot Trodden - Portugal and the Wines that Time Forgot" was published in 2021, and co-written with Ryan Opaz. Both books were New York Times wine books of the year, and "Foot Trodden" was shortlisted for a James Beard award.
Why does biodynamics matter? Respekt-BIODYN is the ongoing effort of 25 growers from German-speaking wine regions to answer that question. Though there are many forms of holistic farming that benefit people, planet, vines and wines, this tight-knit Austria-based group believes that a shared commitment to viewing the teachings of philosopher and agricultural reformer Rudolf Steiner as a springboard for exchange, cooperation, shared learning, and support helps cultivate a sense of individuality that, ultimately, translates into more profound terroir expression and higher quality in their wines. Biodynamic Origins “The first 12 winemakers started in 2005,” explains the group’s leader, Michael Goëss-Enzenberg…...
I reach down to the baggage carousel and slip the strap over my shoulder, the weight of a month’s traveling slowly spreading through my frame, equalizing itself. I pause. Something feels wrong. There is a dampness between my shoulder blades and a smell that doesn’t belong: windfall cherries, woodsmoke. I look down to see a small, red pool forming behind my heels. A man in a yellow jacket reaches for a walkie-talkie. The source is a now-leaking bottle of Fritz Wieninger’s Pinot Noir Select 2006, naively swaddled in pair-upon-pair of walking socks. It’s a memento of one of those evenings…...
