Blaufränkisch tasted in a whitewashed cellar lane
A Kellergasse is a street with no houses — only cellar doors, dug into a loess bank, whitewashed, with a bench outside each one. Mörbisch keeps one of the prettiest, and in the late afternoon the growers open up and the lane fills with the smell of cool earth and old oak. Blaufränkisch is the local red: dark cherry, a peppery edge, more structure than its softness suggests. Bring an appetite for bread and speck; bring a plan for how you are getting home.
Racks right by the terrace and they refilled all four of our bottles without being asked.
Fast service, we were back on the road in twenty minutes.
Nobody blinked at four people in lycra. Portions sized for riders.
Charged the battery over lunch, no charge for it.