Deep South Austria

You know it’s autumn in Austria when the sturm shows up. Available for just a few weeks a year, plastic bottles of cloudy, foaming liquid appear in supermarket refrigerators. With pressure building, they’re prone to leaking. The label warns customers to keep bottles upright, advice I did not heed on my first purchase. I was scolded by the cashier, who quickly righted my wrong as it approached her on the checkout belt.

What exactly is sturm?

Sturm means storm. The name comes from its swirling, cloudy appearance, akin to a thick, hazy IPA. It’s semi-fermented, unfiltered, and full of yeasts still doing their thing. It has transformed beyond mere grape juice but is not yet wine.

There is no statement of alcohol content on a bottle of sturm. Because it’s constantly rising. The very freshest is perhaps two percent alcohol. By the time it reaches consumers, its reached four or five. The longer you keep it, the higher the alcohol goes. This makes drinking sturm somewhat of a lucky dip. You never know exactly how much alcohol any given glass contains. All part of the appeal.

The Perfect Sturm

Do not dismiss sturm as some low-rent, cheap-grade piss, on account of its plastic bottle. Sturm may surprise even the wine snobs amongst you. Available in roter (red) and weisser (white) varieties (white is my favourite), sturm is served cold, straight out of the fridge.

On the first whiff, the fruity fragrance is mild and gives little away. But take a swig – and sturm is meant to be swigged, not sipped – and flavour explodes like Starburst. It’s fresh, tropical and fruity. Yes there’s grape, but there’s apple, pineapple, probably guava too. It’s sweet and juicy but there’s enough acidity to make it moreish. On the tongue, a delicate fizz teases, and after swallowing, the mouth is left feeling wonderfully smooth and silky.

Before moving to Austria I’d never heard of sturm. Indeed, to be called sturm, the grapes must come from Austria and the drink must be made in Austria. Given sturm’s seasonality, short shelf life, and rather delicate handling demands, I suspect very little of it ever leaves the country.

Sturm Troopers

Sturm is not a drink for quaffing. You don’t swirl and sniff it. You don’t pair it with fish or red meat. You gulp it down because it’s delicious and refreshing and once you pop, you can’t stop.

During sturm season – September and October – you can buy it by the glass at small bars in and around Vienna. You can also find it in some supermarkets. And that’s where I always secure a bottle or two.

I like the seasonality of sturm. If it were available year-round, would I enjoy it so much? Perhaps not. But its limited-run nature is cause for celebration; an autumn treat which hints that fire season is coming and winter is on its way.