Heuriger? I hardly even [falls down a flight of stairs, explodes]

So, one of the many quirky things about Vienna is that it's surrounded by hills. On those hills are vineyards producing (exclusively, I believe) white wine. And funny story - the same emperor who declared a Schauspielfreiheit permitting the construction of commercial theatres (and hence my dissertation topic) shortly thereafter also passed a law saying that residents of Vienna who made their own wine and foods could sell them out of their home. Thus began the tradition of the Heuriger (plural is Heurigen), essentially wine gardens/taverns in the hills surrounding Vienna selling the previous year's vintage and giving the Viennese a little rustic break from the city below.

 I went to one. It was amazing. To wit:

As is becoming the formula, full story and more photos after the jump!


The deal is: you make your way out to these spots, you collect your food - usually rustic dishes, sold by weight - at a self-service buffet, and make your way out to the garden, where servers take your order for wine. I had been meaning to get out to one of these for most of this trip but hadn't gotten around to it. Last night, realizing that rain was forecast for the rest of my time in Vienna, I decided to get out to one. I opted for Weinbau Zawodsky, a Heuriger recommended by Spotted By Locals, a site I've been using with some success throughout this trip. It turned out to be a great pick; these places range from super-touristy, kitschy spots with oompah bands and dirndl-clad waitresses to family-run neighborhood spots. This was emphatically the latter.

A twenty-minute walk from the nearest tram stop, my stroll up the hill passed a church and a few fields of grape vines before I got to the house itself. Some politely-bumbling conversation ensued at the buffet, and with a nice spread of cold cuts, cheeses, bread, stuffed grape leaves, and an array of vegetable salads (including the tastiest asparagus dish I've had this rather-asparagus-happy month, thanks seasonal cuisine) I made my way up to the garden. Kids were running around the vineyards playing some made-up Calvinball-esque game. Four older men were playing Whist. A few scattered couples were there on dates. But on a Monday night, that was it. A quiet crowd.

The proprietor eventually wandered over to my picnic table and took my order - a viertel (like an Italian quartino, a quarter-liter) of the house white wine. Which, a few minutes later, was brought to the table by the six-to-eight-year-old kids who had been running amok in the vines just a few minutes earlier. Oh, this place made me happy.

It was a perfect and leisurely end to the day. I'd been feeling a bit of Vienna's stiffness after weekends in Prague and Budapest (post on the latter to come next week after a second visit), and feeling a bit of emotional fray nearly a month into this trip. This evening was a perfect tonic for me - surrounded by nature, within view of the city below, in a quietly convivial atmosphere full of affection and relaxation.

Photos below. Ah, swellness.

The walk up to the Heuriger

A WORKING FARM

THE PLACE WHERE THE GRAPES COME FROM. THE PLACE FROM WHENCE THE GRAPES COME??

My seat, under this lovely canopy.

My attempt to sneakily photograph the old men playing whist failed to capture how much one of them looked like Mandy Patinkin's laid-back, chilled-out brother. HE WAS MY FAVORITE.

The sky (a few afters after some heavy rainfall) was ridiculous and gorgeous all night.

Loveliness on the way out after dinner.

Same church on the walk back down. Tried to capture the glow of the clock face.