Rosé never excited me. The wines all felt cut from the same mold, stylistically narrow, lacking a sense of place, or even any varietal character. Rarely did a sip stop me in my tracks. 

Until Austria. One night, sweating it out on the patio of an exceptionally warm May evening in 2018 at Mochi, a natural wine mecca in Vienna, I couldn’t wait for a drink. I was surrounded by new friends, industry folk I had collected that weekend at VieVinum, Austria’s biannual wine fair. We eagerly scanned through the wine list. It's always best to see what winemakers choose, so I let them do the picking.

That first glass was totally unexpected. Raspberry sherbet hued, slightly cloudy, practically glowing . . . rosé. Aromatically buoyant: fresh-picked berries, orange zest, black pepper, exotic spices, and a whiff of reduction—the nose was exciting enough, but the palate was just killer. This wine was luxuriously mouth-filling, with a velvety texture; all the while it was zingy and refreshing, with a stony finish that just wouldn’t quit. 

I’ve spent the past six years tasting every version of Austria’s pink stuff that I could get my hands on. My conclusion: that wine, Weninger’s Rózsa Petsovits, was not a fluke. And Austrian rosé is an undersung, but very exciting, category.

As we all know, rosé is a lifestyle wine, the vodka of the wine world, and often produced for cashflow. Each year, tons and tons of early-harvested grapes are sped through fermentation with designer yeast; conformed to predictable, uniform flavors; heavily fined for clarity; filtered to remove any remaining character; smacked with a big dose of SO2 for stability—and delivered by the truckload to your nearest wine shop before the first warm day of the year. Even in Provence, the standard bearer for rosé, the vast majority are mass-produced plonk. 

And tiny Austria, far from the sunny shores of the Mediterranean, broke this mold. There, many natural wine producers—Gut Oggau, Kolfok, and Claus Preisinger— along with traditional estates like Bründlmayer and Schloss Gobelsburg, and especially modern rosé specialists like Pia Strehn, all magically create more than their fair share of great rosé wines. 

How does a white wine producing country go on to make some of the most distinctive and dynamic wines from red grapes in the world? And why aren’t we all drinking them? 

“Rosé is My Life.”

Austria is filled with well-trained winemakers. They share a technical proficiency and attention to detail with their German brethren, but seem to balance it with a convivial spark. They craft sophisticated expressions of time and place that just happen to be pink. 

Pia Strehn, owner of Strehn, is one such producer. Her wines don’t just happen to be pink; as she puts it, “rosé is my life.”

She felt like her family’s winery in Burgenland had the potential to make rosé just as good as one she remembered from a school trip to France as a teenager. She wanted to make a perfect wine—but after coming in 17th at a national wine competition, she started at square one.

“I got frustrated. Bought all the top 10 winning wines to taste and see what the judges thought was a perfect rosé. They were all fruity and easy drinking, but there was no difference between the wines,” she said. “So I bought all the rosés I could find which were written about from all wine magazines, to taste all of them.”

Her conclusion: “People don’t think when they drink rosé—about grape variety, origin, or how it was made.” She couldn’t taste the differences herself because, for the most part, there were no differences. She committed to exploring those differences in her own wines. A year later she won first place in the same competition—and also second, third, fourth, and fifth—and has spent the years since refining her approach. 

Austrian Rosé: Terroirs and Regions

All great wine, rosé or not, starts with great terroir, which Austria has in spades. Most of its regions are cool climate, hence the prevalence of white wines. Vineyard size in Austria helps, too. They average a mere four hectares per estate; to put this in perspective, the average vineyard in Provence is 49 hectares. Aside from size, or maybe because of it, nearly 50 percent of Austria’s vineyards are farmed with organic, biodynamic, or sustainable certifications—and that doesn’t include those who eschew accreditation, but farm without chemicals. This means soils are alive and biodiverse, vines are more resistant to disease and climate change, and excellent fruit is readily available.

Every Austrian region now has a rosé worth seeking out, but the best and the brightest are mostly concentrated in Burgenland. Situated along the border with Hungary, with which it shares a warmer, drier climate, it’s the only area in Austria where red grapes dominate.

Red wine from what’s best known as a white wine country is already hard enough to market in the U.S., so it’s no wonder that the rosés get short shrift. But if the best vineyards—many of them on limestone, slate, and schist—were in, say, France, all the wines would get the attention they deserve.

Young Stefan Wellanschitz of Kolfok makes a breathtaking example of what the region can offer in his Querschnitt Pinot Noir rosé. Grapes hail from a small, very cool limestone vineyard in Neckenmarkt, planted in the ‘80s. I imagine it's what Charmes-Chambertin would taste like if someone dared to make it pink: meaty, with violets, rose petals, potted earth, black cherry, and chalk. It’s so pale, yet so concentrated—and proves you can have both site and variety specificity in a rosé done right.

Pinot Noir and other French varieties are rare in Austria, where indigenous varieties, both red and white, prevail. Grüner Veltliner is nearly synonymous with the country, but I’d argue Blaufränkisch deserves more of the spotlight, owing to its impeccable terroir transparency, high acidity, and distinctive five-spice varietal character. 

Claus Preisinger, the irreverent mastermind of Austrian natural wine, decided in 2017 to devote some of his best Blaufränkisch fruit to the category no one cared about. Thirty-year-old vines from the Goldberg, a grand cru quality vineyard, are direct-pressed into amphora for eight months and bottled without any makeup. The neon-pink color hums along with the electric current running through the core of the wine while a whirlwind of spicy, tangerine-inflected salinity zings along your palate. He named the wine Dope, as if he needed to lay out any more catnip for natural-wine nerds.

Eduard Tscheppe, together with his wife Stephanie, are the vignerons of Burgenland’s Gut Oggau, one of the most committed biodynamic practitioners in the world. He explicitly links his native Burgenland’s terroir to his rosé, and describes his rosés—Winifred and Cecilia—this way:  “Our rosé is not typical as such. But [it’s a] typical terroir wine of the vineyards—it's the vineyards that inspire us to produce a wine that, by chance, is a rosé.” The two Gut Oggau rosés are among the most expensive Austrian rosés—Cecilia can run you $75—but their price is based on the extensive amount of labor that is applied to every step of the process, particularly the farming. 

It’s best, perhaps, to divide Austrian rosé into two camps: world-class wines that just happen to be pink, and classic Provençal-style rosé wines just done better. The former, like Gut Oggau’s, are often single-site wines that display incredible finesse, complexity, balance, length, and longevity. These will hold their own against not only the best rosé out there—Domaine Tempier, Clos Cibonne, Frank Cornelissen’s Susucaru, and Domaine Sylvain Pataille’s Fleur de Pinot Marsannay Rosé-—but also with many of the world’s great reds and whites. 

In the latter camp, the wines are comparatively priced to those on the global stage. But from Austria they tend to be made in smaller quantities, with better source material, and more attentive craftsmanship—so they’re more complex and interesting than other rosés in the same price range. Take Oppenauer Zweigelt Rosé for example, a zippy, salty, watermelon-tinged wine from the Weinviertel that delivers far more than you’d expect for all of $17. 

It, too, proves that Austrian rosé, whether the wine costs $17 or $75, is worth getting excited about.  

Austrian Rosés to Seek Out

2023 Weingut Weninger Rózsa Petsovits ($18)

Glowing ruby, slightly cloudy with aromatics that pop out of the glass; spiced Christmas cranberry sauce, macerated rose petals, black pepper, green peppercorn, five spice, violets, roses, juicy strawberry, watermelon, smoke, more pepper, slatey stoney minerality. Searing acidity, so sharp it could cut through the richest meal, but with a fresh, silky fruit quality. Extensive length and twice the finesse you’d expect from a wine at this price. Nerdy note: Technically this is an EU wine; its grapes come from what was a single region until 100 years ago, but is now split between Austria and Hungary.

2023 Gut Oggau Winifred ($47)

A beautiful fluorescent fuchsia. A smell of sunshine on stone and salty rocks on a seaside beach, with a dusty earth brooding underneath. Tangerine and raspberry, zinging lemon, and white peach with alluring notes of spices, red pepper, green peppercorns, cayenne, and linalool. Tasted over three days; completely sound, opened slowly, giving more earth and mineral as the fruit melted away. Rosé for the winter, or to feel steely cold in the heat of August. 

2023 Gut Oggau Cecilia ($75)

Liquid sunshine. Golden with a bright ruby core. Joyful, mouth-filling—sun-kissed strawberries, orange pith, luscious, soft sandy edges, but tart at the core. Eduard Tscheppe described Cecilia as “a beautiful butterfly, you want to catch it but always in another place before you can reach it” and just when you get a handle on the experience, it changes to something better. Next day the structure is more bracing and smells like a garden in bloom. Limestone vineyard planted with both red and white grapes, and maybe that mix is what makes it so elusive and complex. 

2022 Kolfok Querschnitt Pinot Noir Rosé ($39)

The very essence of Pinot Noir. Akin to Pataille’s Marsannay rosé, but this tastes like Charmes-Chambertin. Is anyone in Burgundy making a rosé out of their best sites? If they aren’t, maybe they should be. Impeccably balanced: meat-stuffed cherries, limestone, dirt, cedar, salty violets with blackberry compote. A classic through and through, if Pinot Noir from Burgenland’s coolest, limestone-laden sites were all made into rosé, it would be a classic category, instead this will just have to be a singular, world-class example.

2022 Kolfok Intra! The Wild ($25)

For the natty fans, but this is clean as a whistle. Vapors of five spice, a whiff of chalk, roses in bloom, super ripe raspberries and strawberries, and even a swipe of blueberry jam, all covered in cracked black pepper. Super fine, sleek, dusty tannin, but the juice is fresh enough to be slurpable and mineral enough to admire. So soif you may just gargle it.

2022 Claus Preisinger Dope ($45)

Thrillingly fresh and electric, and it pops on the palate, thanks to a touch of sparkle. The limestone soil comes through in the highwire tension of the acidity, while the texture from the slate gives just enough angular expression to keep you from chugging. Just-ripe blood orange and raspberry with fragrant, oily lemon and tangerine zest layered with Blaufränkisch’s most notable characteristic of five spice to carry it to a long, dry finish. Like a savory dessert for dinner. 

2023 Strehn Blaufränkisch Rosé ($26)

The only Pia Strehn wine to make it to the U.S. Classic, Provençal-styled, but distinctive, thanks to its Blaufränkisch character. Crushable but refined, seamless as the acid lifts up the fruit, but integrates itself with no edge feeling too sharp. Brilliant red fruit, strawberries, cherries, and watermelon, with black pepper and a salty, stony, minerality. A wine you don't have to think about enjoying—you just will.

2023 Weingut Bernhard Ott Rosalie ($30)

Bernhard Ott, arguably Austria’s greatest winemaker, set out to show that Grüner Veltliner grown on loess was a world-class wine. But, after being sued by a certain French winery for copyright infringement (in fairness, their names are very similar), and winning, he thought he’d try his hand at rosé and name it after his daughter. We are lucky he did. Made from Zweigelt, and darker than the Provençal versions. A burst of juicy fruit goodness, backed up with earthy, herbal, peppery layers and a lot of minerality on the finish. Drink alone, drink with food, share with friends—a total banger. 

2023 Weingut Jäger Zweigelt Rosé ($19)

Crystal clear and bubble gum pink. Crisp, clean edges, a step above simple with minerality to balance the strawberry, raspberry, and salted cream, with a wispy watermelon Jolly Rancher note and a dash of white pepper. Slightly bitter on the finish, but it only makes you want another sip. More residual sugar than anything else here, but the acidity is so strong it hardly shows.

2023 Heidi Schröck & Söhne Tour de Rosé ($23)

Sourced from vines planted at the top of Schröck’s hill, grown from cuttings from friends around the world. Neon fuschia in the glass; on the palate there’s fresh-picked strawberry and juicy watermelon, black pepper, black currant, savory herbs, and a little noble reduction. The palate is super silky, but finishes with a nice bright crunch. Needs time to open for the reduction to blow off and the minerality to pop; can age three to five years. 

2023 Weingut Oppenauer Zweigelt Rosé ($17, 1L)

Crystal clear and pale pink. A light spritz adds freshness and helps the aromatics burst from the glass. Zweigelt-based, and plain fun: gobs of red raspberries and summery watermelon, a crack of white and black pepper, and a dash of minerality. Quite gluggable—good thing it's in a liter bottle, otherwise it would disappear too quickly and make everyone sad. 

2023 Jutta Ambrositsch Rakete ($23)

A real category crosser. Dark like a red wine, and with flavors that shade more towards red than pink, but with the structure of a rosé. Very sleek and velvety. Crazy amounts of black fruit and cherry on the nose, but the palate is wrapped up in an array of earthy, herbal characteristics—tarragon, potted plants, black pepper— with river stone, chalk, and a mineral spring element on the finish. A mix of red and white grapes, and there’s nothing else quite like it.

2023 Schloss Gobelsburg Cistercien Rosé ($19)

A noteworthy version of a classic Austrian Zweigelt rosé. Which means it's clean, clear, crisp, with a beautiful gossamer texture, and more interesting than your average classic. Plenty of bright acid, with lots of salty minerality, raspberry essence with some rose petal, and black pepper.

2023 Weingut Bründlmayer Zweigelt Rosé ($26)

Those familiar with Bründlmayer will not be surprised by the quality of their rosé. Crystal-clear pale pink. Earthy, stony, with some watermelon and raspberry and black pepper. Waxy, sleek, and smooth. Good concentration. Drink with food—anything from steak to salad would do. 

2023 Jurtschitsch Rosé vom Zweigelt ($21)

Alwin and Stefanie Jurtschitsch are some of my favorite winemakers in Kamptal, especially for their delicate Rieslings. Their wines are built for the long haul, even this rosé, which showed much better on day two. It’s clearly Zweigelt; raspberry, watermelon, sandy, with white pepper, but it's also got a lot of lychee and rose petals, waxy texture, and a long salty finish. Find a bottle, give it some time, and enjoy.