A Hill, An Astronaut, & A Glass With Fritz Wieninger
We arrived at Weingut Wieninger just as the sun reached its peak, golden light over the vines. Smiling faces waited in a gentle line for something crisp and cold. Long tables stretched between the rows, and the view ran all the way to Vienna and the Danube. After the train and the city, this was the welcome: not a grand hall, but a picnic table under a shade tree, a glass in hand, and the rooftops unfolding below. If I could choose, every winery visit would begin like this. A Hillside That Belongs to Everyone The afternoon was thanks to a friend. After VieVinum in May, Pasi Ketolainen MW — a friend, and a former colleague of Fritz — spoke about Nussberg with such conviction that I made a note to come during the ÖTW Single Vineyard Summit. Standing there in the sun, I realized he had described it exactly. Nothing exaggerated. What caught me first was not the view, extraordinary as it is. It was the people. Families in easy conversation, children weaving between tables, the small music of glasses over the grass. Fritz Wieninger’s hospitality was unmistakable from the first minute, and it was clearly not a show for visitors. This is where locals come to spend an afternoon among the vines. To understand the place, you have to understand the heuriger. In Austria it is the grower’s own tavern: their wine, usually with simple, honest food. The word means “this year’s,” a nod to the new wine, and the tradition goes back centuries. A pine branch over the door once announced that it was ready. Around Vienna, heurigen are a way of life — casual, convivial, and built on the idea that the best place to drink a wine is as close to the vineyard as possible. A City With Vineyards Vienna is one of the only capitals with serious winegrowing inside its limits. Wieninger farms both sides of the Danube: the sandy, loess-rich Bisamberg to the north, and the limestone slopes of the Nussberg across the river, close enough that the vines look down on the rooftops. That closeness is why single vineyards matter here. Growers knew their hills by name long before any classification. Limestone and sandstone, steep sun-facing terraces, a cooling breeze off the river: the Nussberg does not make the wine of the flatter, sandier Bisamberg. In 2017, twelve Viennese vineyards were classified Erste Lage for the first time. Four of them belong to Wieninger. Tasting from the slope in front of me was the gentlest possible introduction. An Astronaut, a Mother, and a Calling Over lunch he told stories, and the first one made me grin. “When I was a small boy, I wanted to be an astronaut,” he said, “and discover new civilizations.” He pictured himself on the Enterprise, beside Captain Kirk. The mission changed because of his mother. She was among the first women to graduate from the enology program at Klosterneuburg, at a time when the wine world was overwhelmingly male, and she held her ground. Around her graduation she had friends over, and young Fritz had been coached. If anyone asked what he wanted to be, he knew the line: “I want to go to winemaking school like my mom.” It proved a wise answer. He loved to learn, and his father encouraged the path, promising it would open doors. The spark came in the second year, when the winemaking lessons began. From the first day he was captivated by how sticky, sweet grape juice becomes something elegant. He took the question home. Cherry wine in his bedroom. Rice wine. Anything with sugar, fermented to see what it would become. Some of it exploded. All of it was messy. He had never even tasted rice wine, and it fascinated him most. That, he told us, was the moment he knew. He had yet to learn how demanding the vineyard could be: cold mornings, relentless sun, nature’s unpredictability. At first all he wanted was to make wine. The rest came with time. “A wine’s story starts in the vineyard itself, with the quiet questions of what to plant, and where. It begins long before the cellar door.” He took over the family estate in 1987, after Klosterneuburg and a vintage in California, and turned a traditional tavern into one of Austria’s most admired urban wineries. I can’t help thinking a woman who graduated in a man’s world, and a boy who rehearsed his line for her guests, had a great deal to do with that. The Winemaker Behind the Wines Fritz farms biodynamically, certified organic and biodynamic since 2011, and part of respekt-BIODYN. Healthy living soil, biodiversity between the rows, a lower yield if that is the price of quality. Slower work, much of it by hand. He is also Vienna’s great champion of Wiener Gemischter Satz. The idea is as old as farming: many varieties in one vineyard, grown together, picked together, pressed together, so the wine speaks with one voice. When he began, nobody wanted it. Tavern wine. The worst of the worst. “In my beginnings, I did not want to have to do with the Buschenschank wine,” he told us. “Because I knew this is for my image, not good.” He bottled instead, and sold to the top restaurants. It worked. People came looking for the wines, then for the place. In 2013 Gemischter Satz received its own DAC. Today it is Vienna’s signature. In the Glass Four bottles on the table, each with the ÖTW Erste Lage seal, all from the Nussberg: three from the Rosengartel, the heart of the hill, and one from the Ulm, on the steep southern slope toward the river. The Rosengartel back label puts it simply. The Nussberg has long been Vienna’s best-known vineyard, and at its center lies the Rosengartel, the Filetstück, the prime cut, planted in part to ancient Riesling. Ried Rosengartel Riesling 2024. The newcomer, quick and bright. Cool limestone, citrus blossom, a shiver of freshness
The Adventurous Soul Behind Arsenio Winery and Olive Oil
Fellow wine lovers, if you’ve ever dreamed of a bottle that whispers stories of far-off lands while rooting you firmly in the earth’s embrace, let me introduce you to Arsenio—a winery that’s not just producing wine, but crafting a multicultural legacy. From ancient Armenian roots to the sun-drenched hills of Tuscany, an adventurous, charming old soul with a mathematician’s precision chases dreams through olive groves. A confident deep thinker, he weaves heritage, philosophy, and mastery into every sip and every golden drop. Arsen, born in Málaga, Spain, in 2000, is Armenian by blood and a true citizen of the world. With a Bachelor’s in Pure Mathematics from New York University—specializing in differential equations and chaos theory—and a Master’s in Vineyard and Winery Management from Bordeaux Sciences Agro, plus his WSET Diploma earned in 2024, he’s the perfect blend of analytical mind and passionate artist. “I’m already 25,” he commented with a broad smile and spring in his step, sneakers firmly planted on the sandstone soils of his Florence vineyard. But as he explained, exceptional wine (and olive oil) takes time, and he’s in it for the long haul. I was lucky enough to be invited for a private, one-on-one visit with Arsen Khachaturyants, the visionary founder of Arsenio. It was just the two of us, getting to know each other over glasses of his emerging vintages and samples of his exquisite olive oil. My recent visit to Arsen’s estate was energizing and transformative—like an ice-cold morning plunge into a crisp Tuscan stream. I dove headfirst into his fascinating journey: blending Armenian heritage with Tuscan character, a confident visionary pursuing exciting new projects, channeling his culinary passion with mathematical precision, interwoven with soul-stirring music—all grounded in deep family values. His philosophy? Humans are an integral part of nature, reconciling progress with environmental respect. Arsenio’s 10 hectares span three distinct Tuscan areas: Florence, Olena in Chianti Classico, and near Volterra by the coast—all organically farmed. In Florence, where it all began in 2020, you’ll find Sangiovese, Mammolo, Colorino, Pugnitello, Canaiolo, Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, and a nod to his roots with Areni Noir. At 300 meters above sea level on sandstone, with breezes from the Apennines, it’s a hillside haven within the Renaissance city itself. The unofficial 2023 harvest hinted at greatness, which I concur it was “great” labeled Y23 and 2024’s official vintage is set for release in 2027. But it’s not just vines; Arsen’s passion extends to olive groves that dot these landscapes, producing oil that’s as golden and profound as his wines. Walking through those groves with him, he shared how the same borderless vision applies—one golden drop at a time, honoring the saline winds and sun-drenched hills. “Travel has taught me to respect diversity without altering it,” he said, as we tasted the peppery, vibrant olive oil straight from the press. It’s a partnership between human and nature, much like his winemaking. In Chianti Classico’s Olena estate, an eight-hectare gem with three planted to vines, dense forests create a micro-terroir of clay and silt, protecting against winds and amplifying day-night swings. Sangiovese dominates, joined by Cabernet Franc and Grenache for climate adaptability. An old farmhouse is being restored into a intimate cellar— “a place where nothing interrupts your connection with the wine,” as Arsen put it. And near Volterra, the coastal influence shines with Cabernet Franc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, and Sangiovese. The wines are poised to become future icons, each stemming from a deeply personal relationship with the land, expressing the full potential of its terroir through a pursuit of excellence and uncompromising freedom of interpretation. The flagship is an IGT Toscana, with only one wine produced under the Chianti Classico denomination: The labels, designed by Armenian artists, are small stories in themselves. Yeter shows Arsen in reflection, engaging with chaos; Anddem portrays him pushing forward against the wind; Screeching Soil captures Chianti’s rugged soils; Same Sky’s round shape underscores universality. “Searching for a new language means breaking rules,” Arsen told me, his eyes lighting up. These aren’t uniform—they’re soloists, each telling a tale. As we shared stories, music playing softly in the background—perhaps a nod to his soul-stirring influences—Arsen’s deep family values shone through. We bonded over our shared love for composers Hans Zimmer and Max Richter. I proudly introduced him to my cousin’s songs—a remarkably talented composer and artist who, coincidentally, studied under Hans Zimmer himself. Arsen was visibly moved by the music, and it added another layer of connection to an already profound afternoon. Supported by his loved ones, he’s laying foundations for a new wine chapter, one that speaks to curious souls like us. Huge thanks to Arsen for his warmth and this profound experience. Here’s to the chapters ahead—I’m thrilled to watch (and taste) what unfolds. If you crave innovation wrapped in tradition, keep your eyes on Arsenio. The vines—and olives—are only just beginning.