“We are in a time of climate crisis. Any opportunity to act and make responsible choices is an opportunity we should take.”

From the top of a 50-plus-foot observation tower in Neusiedler See‒Seewinkel National Park, on the far-eastern edge of Austria, I watch the setting sun leave papaya-hued smudges in the sky. To the left, a small herd of cattle browse the scrubby grasses surrounding a partially dried salt lake. To the right, a deer silently picks its way across the dirt road snaking through the landscape, toward the not-so-distant border of Hungary. I close my eyes, listening to the breeze rattle the leaves of silver oaks and poplars. A self-satisfied groan rises from below, where an albino jennet takes a dirt bath, rolling the flies off her pale coat.

Sure, Vienna waits for you, and the alpine hills might lurch to life with the sound of music. But the conscientious traveler stops to sip the wine, taste the tomatoes, and eavesdrop on the landscape in Burgenland. The least-populated of the central European nation’s nine states, Burgenland boasts the mildest climate and is one of the most sustainable communities in a country ranked the second-greenest in Europe.

While the bustling city of Vienna may be the first destination on most itineraries, Burgenland offers a quieter, yet equally captivating escape.

Day 1: Exploring Neusiedler See‒Seewinkel National Park

Biking Through a Unique Ecosystem

In the 24,000-acre park, located between the foothills of the Alps in the west and the Hungarian lowlands in the east, I pedal onto one of several bike paths behind park manager Harald Grabenhofer and lead ranger Luke Vendler. The landscape — largely flat, green, and punctuated by thickets of vegetation — is markedly different from the steep hills and neat streets of Vienna, only a 40-minute train ride away.

The Importance of Austria’s Salt Lakes

Established in 1993 and designated a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2001, the park’s unique mosaic of meadows and steppes is home to 400 different animal species. These include dozens of bird species, water buffalo, and one of Europe’s largest herds of endangered blue-eyed Baroque donkeys. The park is also a sanctuary for Przewalski’s horse, a wild and ancient Mongolian breed.

Beyond its tranquil beauty, Neusiedler See-Seewinkel National Park is significant for stewarding the last 24 salt lakes in Austria. Also called soda pans or soda lakes, they provide crucial habitat for a wide range of insects and animals. I can’t help but notice how shallow the water seems. As if I have spoken the thought aloud, Grabenhofer explains, “If the groundwater continues to be this low, the lakes disappear, the birds disappear, and so does the wine and the tourism.”

The problem isn’t unique to Austria. Climate change and the human proclivity for using copious amounts of groundwater have left salt lakes in a precarious position worldwide. Some of the most famous — the Great Salt Lake, Dead Sea, and Aral Sea among them — have declined 50 to 90 percent since their earliest recorded accounts. Neusiedler See‒Seewinkel National Park was recently awarded a $9 million LIFE grant, with a $3 million boost from the Austrian government, to rehabilitate the soda pans, by creating channel locks to retain the water, acquiring an additional 250 acres of protected habitat, and conducting agricultural soil surveys.

In the evening, I return to my bed and breakfast in Illmitz, where I get my first taste of the region’s agricultural bounty with a spread of local cheeses, jams, butter, fruits, vegetables, and rustic bread. It’s a prelude to what awaits tomorrow.

Day 2: A Taste of the Land

Discovering Traditional Winemaking in Breitenbrunn

In the morning, I step up into the gray SUV of tour guide Janine Zangl for a scenic ride through the west side of Lake Neuseidl, where Burgenland’s farm-to-table culinary scene is preparing for takeoff. When I ask Zangl how many Americans have stopped through in recent memory, she smooths back an errant copper strand of hair and deadpans, “You.”

She reconsiders. “No, wait. There was another, also a journalist, maybe six months ago.”

Chalk it up to a knowledge deficiency, a shortage of marketing, or a little of both. Either way, I can barely wait to open my door in Breitenbrunn, a tiny, traditional winemaking village. At first glance, the street appears to be lined with hobbit houses made from irregular sandstone and topped with thatched roofs, some grown thick with grass or climbing ivy. This, Zangl tells me, is the town’s historic cellar quarter, or Kellerring. Built in the 1700s, the cellars were traditionally used for making and storing wine, and some still function this way today.

From the historic cellars of Breitenbrunn, our journey continues to explore another of Burgenland’s innovative agricultural ventures.

Mushroom Magic at Pilz & More

Angelika Tobler beckons us through the heavy iron door of Pilz & More, a cellar where she, her husband, and daughter run an oyster mushroom‒growing operation. Every other day, Tobler explains, they take a “coffee break,” driving to cafes, restaurants, and hotels to pick up spent coffee grounds. These are mixed by hand in a big barrel with lime and oyster mycelium, and loaded into the bags. The mushrooms take four to six weeks to reach their first harvest, and can generate up to two more.

Inside the temperature and humidity-controlled fruiting room, ivory oyster mushrooms sprout from black plastic bags hanging from steel racks. I savor several of Tobler’s mushroom-based spreads and sauces, like the best-selling Pastete, an umami dream with red beans, sunflower oil, apple cider vinegar, and spices

Organic Farming at Reiner’s Strawberries and Vegetables

Thirty minutes away in Frauenkirchen, on the eastern side of Lake Neusiedl, we pause for a tour of Reiner’s Strawberries and Vegetables. A third-generation family farm with devoted, long-term employees, it converted to organic farming, with an emphasis on sustainability, soil health, and biodiversity, in 2022.

The younger Paul Reiner has established an onsite market garden, a Parisian concept that dates back to the 1600s, in which enough food is grown to supply an entire community for a year. “We have 80 different vegetables here,” he says, sweeping a hand over a one-acre plot. When a vegetable stops growing, they pull out the remains and spread compost, in preparation for the next planting. “This creates an ideal soil cycle,” he tells me, “especially in a sunny, drier climate like Burgenland’s.”

Past the farm’s greenhouses, we settle in for an al fresco picnic. I pile on Reiner’s own baseball-sized heirloom tomatoes, crisp yellow and green peppers carved into rosettes, homemade pesto, local charcuterie and cheeses, and a disc of crusty sourdough bread — an experience akin to capturing sunshine on a plate.

Plant-Based Innovation at Manufaba‒Seewinkler Bio-Tofu

At Manufaba‒Seewinkler Bio-Tofu, owner Ulla Wittmann, a former environmental consultant with the Vienna Environmental Consulting Agency and the Austrian Climate Alliance, welcomes us into her production facility and shop. She began making tofu and other soybean products in her home kitchen, using beans grown organically by her partner. After three years of experimentation, Wittmann decided to build her own small factory and was met with great success. Her products, which now include tempeh, soybean patties, and vegan sauces, are plant-based, grown in healthy soils without pesticides, and supply people in the region with high-quality proteins.

While Wittmann is delighted with Manufaba‒Seewinkler Bio-Tofu’s popularity, she’s even more gratified by what the brand represents. “We are in a time of climate crisis,” she explains. “Any opportunity to act and make responsible choices is an opportunity we should take.”

Tasting Burgenland’s Wines in Gols

For our final stop of the day, we head 15 minutes into Gols, a well-known wine-growing village on the slopes of the Parndorfer plains east of Lake Neusiedl. At Weingut Georg Preisinger, sixth-generation winemaker Georg Preisinger walks me through his vineyards. I’m immediately struck by the sturdiness of the vines, the perfect globes of ripening fruit, and the broad, deep green grape leaves. There’s hardly a yellowed edge, let alone an insect hole, in sight.

In 2019, the winery went organic and began using Agnihotra fire — a method that first appeared in the Vedas, 3,000-year-old Indian texts, and has been used by proponents of Homa agriculture. At sunrise and sunset each day, in a small copper pyramid, a fire is lit from a combination of unpolished rice, cakes of cow dung, and ghee. As it burns, the Preisinger team recites Sanskrit mantras.

The wines themselves tend toward the young, light, and complex, without tipping into the cerebral. Preisinger holds a glass of Grauburgunder Goldberg up to the light. Pale golden, the Pinot Gris blend has a soft palate and light aroma, with just a hint of oak. I follow it up with a swish of Zweigelt Heideboden, a red with pronounced cherry notes and a hint of tannins. “Most of our wines have a dry character,” he says, “but they feel fresh and modern, because we try to bring the grape as naturally as possible into the bottle.”

Both the ritual and the resulting smoke and ash are thought to neutralize radiation and pollution in the atmosphere and nourish the plants and soil. Although there are few scientific studies to validate the effects, plants grown with Agnihotra seem more resistant to pests and better able to withstand drought, perhaps because the oil in the ghee helps the soil retain more moisture.

A similar philosophy of letting the earth express itself applies to everything I’ve experienced in Burgenland, a sustainable oasis in a country that has been a leader in environmental protection for 200 years. As the global climate crisis worsens, the region provides a case study for the practicality of getting back to the land — and how restoring it will benefit us now and for generations to come.