Wine, Place, and Hospitality in Alto Adige

Thanks to my wife’s work as an independent travel advisor, we recently discovered a corner of Alto Adige that—surprisingly—had remained unknown to me. The Val d’Ega (Eggental in German) begins just beyond the outskirts of Bolzano. In a matter of a few switchbacks, the urban perimeter dissolves, giving way to an enchanted landscape dominated by raw elements and shaped by the rhythm of the seasons; a place where human presence feels incidental rather than inherent. In winter, snow and ice encase the scenery in an almost unreal appearance, recalling the fantastical land of Arendelle from Disney’s Frozen. It is a setting that seems destined to inspire legends, such as that of King Laurin, who ruled a dwarf kingdom beneath the Rosengarten massif and tended a magnificent rose garden on its slopes—hence the German name meaning “Rose Garden.” Excluded from a royal wedding, Laurin attended invisibly, fell in love with the bride, Similde, and abducted her to the mountains. Discovered during the rescue—having been betrayed by the movement of his roses—he was defeated and imprisoned. In his rage, Laurin cursed the garden to be invisible by day and by night, but forgot to include sunrise and sunset. Ever since, in those fleeting moments, the Rosengarten is tinged with luminous shades of pink, almost as if the rocks had caught fire, a spectacular phenomenon known as Enrosadira.

Over three intense days, our time was spent between Bolzano, the foothills of the Alpe di Siusi, and the Val d’Ega itself, visiting—and in some cases staying at—beautiful properties run by visionary owners. Unsurprisingly, I paid close attention to the wine programs at each stop. Browsing a wine list can be either exhilarating or profoundly disappointing. Debates over what constitutes a “good” list are endless. Still, for me it is less about length than balance: the dialogue between local and international growers, the coexistence of established estates and emerging voices, and the presence of old vintages, as well as thoughtfully curated verticals. A compelling wine program elevates the food—and with it, the relevance of the establishment itself. Wine remains a cornerstone of the world’s most evolved cuisines, a conviction clearly shared by the beverage directors I met along the way.

Hotel Engel Gourmet & Spa and its sister property, Engel Ayurpura, lie nestled in the valley beneath the towering granite wall of the Rosengarten. Engel’s wine program featured a surprising number of thrilling bottles, including back vintages of various Raveneau crus offered at remarkably reasonable prices. The list also ventured confidently beyond Europe, with a healthy presence of highly esteemed California producers such as Domaine de la Côte and Arnot-Roberts. I ultimately chose a bottle from the Jura: a 2016 Domaine A. & M. Tissot Arbois Trousseau Singulier, which paired sublimely with a meltingly tender braised pork cheek. Meanwhile, the hotel’s exceptional “Happy Club”—a sequence of activity rooms culminating in a fully equipped kitchen where children learn to cook under professional supervision—kept our daughter happily occupied. The result was a rare luxury for mom and dad: a relaxed post-dinner conversation by the fireplace, lingering just long enough to finish the bottle.

Hotel Pfösl, perched on Val d’Ega’s high meadows, offers a dramatically different perspective: a sweeping 360-degree panorama of mountains. Here, altitude and an immaculate sky reveal the full spectacle of Enrosadira at sunset. Immersed in the warm outdoor pool—its suspended basin projecting into the alpine landscape—we watched the Dolomites ignite in shades of rose and ember. Below ground, Pfösl’s temperature-controlled wine room reflects a philosophy I admire deeply: wine is not an accessory, but a precious companion to meaningful moments. The cellar is thoughtfully stocked with internationally renowned estates alongside compelling regional producers. I stayed local, selecting one of my favorite growers from nearby Bressanone: Pacherhof. Their 2024 Grüner Veltliner matched each bite of a decadent veal Schnitzel to perfection. Wine followed dinner as well. A glass of Weingut Romen Furglau Bianco Nova, a producer previously unknown to me (expertly recommended by the convivial maestro of the bar, Edoardo), revealed a layered texture and dimensional depth that recalled a top-tier Mâcon-Villages, underscoring once again how thoughtful Pfösl’s wine offering is. The bottle was finished outdoors, in freezing temperatures mitigated by a crackling fire and a crystalline, starry sky of a kind you rarely encounter anymore.

The following day, a scenic descent through the valley led us to our next destination. The historic Romantik Hotel Turm stands in the quaint heart of Fiè allo Sciliar, beneath the Sciliar’s granitic face and at the base of the Alpe di Siusi, Europe’s largest high plateau. Turm is as much a living gallery as a place of hospitality: art, antiques, and sculpture woven throughout, with an original Picasso presiding quietly over the main dining room. Wine, naturally, is central to the experience. The underground cellar—damp, dark, and almost ghostly—extends through medieval tunnels, where bottles rest in patient repose. Old vintages from some of the most esteemed German, French, and Italian producers—many nearing half a century in age—share space with wines from some of the region’s most gifted interpreters. The hotel’s owner, Stephan Pramstrahler, is a gastronome–philosopher–art collector with a deeply considered eye. His Gatschhof, a restored maso reimagined as four luxurious suites, celebrates wood and stone in their purest forms. Below, splendid Arabian horses are housed in stables encircled by sculpture, photography, and dramatic rock formations. Stephan also produces wine at his Grottnerhof estate, where Pinot Bianco, Sauvignon, Gewürztraminer, and Pinot Noir grow at 600 meters above the Isarco Valley, under the guidance of Markus Prackwieser of neighboring Gumphof.

A short drive from this near-heavenly retreat brings us to the lively, elegant heart of Bolzano. Parkhotel Mondschein, set within the historic center, radiates an unmistakable Mitteleuropean sensibility. From the refined bar or dining room, one could just as easily imagine being in Zürich, Vienna, or Berlin. The stately building opens onto a verdant park with a secluded pool—a green refuge that still frames views of the Rosengarten’s jagged outline. The restaurant’s menu is concise, seasonal, and impeccably executed—precisely the combination I favor. The wine list emphasizes Alto Adige producers, balancing established names with emerging voices. Lunch, shared with the delightful Claudia Rier, was nothing short of divine. From the local by-the-glass selection, I chose Ignaz Niedrist Pinot Noir Riserva Girlan, which paired beautifully with my soup—and helped me finish the Schnitzel my daughter didn’t quite manage.

As a fitting conclusion, we stopped in Egna on our way back to Verona. Beyond its quiet beauty—especially evocative during Christmas week—Egna is home to Mazzon, widely considered Italy’s grand cru for Pinot Noir. This famed site extends along a rocky spur ominously rising just behind the town center. Seeking refuge from the bitter cold, we hurried under the town’s porticoes and luckily stumbled into a bar, warm and filled with people enjoying their aperitif. A glance at the by-the-glass list revealed, once again, a short but carefully curated selection of regional wines. Among them was one of my all-time favorite Alto Adige whites: Kerner from Manni Nössing. The freezing night, however, called for red, and there was no contest—Sebastian Praxmarer’s Mazzon Pinot Noir. Is there anything better, for a wine nerd, than sipping a glass with your loved ones while gazing at the very vineyard from which it was born? From the window, the dark outline of Mazzon loomed above, framed by twinkling lights while inside the room hummed with life—an unplanned pause that felt less like an ending than a gentle reminder of why we travel in the first place. In a single moment, people, travel, landscape, and wine folded into a single, perfectly ordinary pleasure, my precise definition of luxury.