The faces behind the estate
Molnár Júlia Dóra
‘Mine is a fairy-tale story that I very much treasure. I was born and raised in Budapest and for a long time, I could not imagine living anywhere else. Especially not in Badacsony, which was fine for summer holidays but life seemed ever so tediously slow down there.
It was in 2012 that my mother needed help harvesting the ‘hárslevelű’. So, I came. Then and there something happened… I had already tried my hand at various things, had had several jobs but suddenly being there in the vineyard became the very definition of work. I was standing by the vine, touched the grapes, filled the containers, took the grapes to be processed, followed the wine-making procedure and in the end, was holding the bottle in my hands. Suddenly, I was strongly allured to the vineyard and winemaking. Although I have always had this opportunity right there before my eyes, it took me this revelation to make it clear that this is where I belong.
I sat down my parents and told them that this was in fact what I wanted to do. That I was ready to take over everything related to grapes and wine. They trusted me and both of them stood by me and helped in starting off. Their support is invigorating and most welcome, considering that I have come a long way…
Ours is not a winemaker family in the traditional sense of the word yet I consider myself to be a third generation figure in the history of our vineyard. For what my grandfather had started, was refined by my parents and is now handed over to me to embrace and develop.
So that is how I eventually returned to the venue of my summer holidays. With an open heart and full of vigor.’
Molnárné Tóth Beáta
‘Back in 1971, my parents were strolling around the neighborhood looking for a weekend house instead of which they came upon a tiny old press-house. It had a smoky kitchen that had the date 1771 carved into the beam and a traditional, old vineyard. Although I was just a little girl holding my father’s hand, when we climbed up to the ‘kisörsi’ hill and had this breathtaking scenery unfold before our eyes we knew that our search was over.
Mári néni was crouching in front of the house on a ‘sitting stone’. 80 years of age she still lived on the hill where she was born. My grandmother, ‘Mamika’ also had a soft spot for this pretty, shapely stone. It still stands in front of the house… As there is stone everywhere around here, it grows in the ground, as locals used to say.
And then my parents began cultivating the vineyard. They learned what they could from books and listened to the advice given by the elderly on the hill. I will never forget the first harvest. Relatives, friends, and colleagues came at first call. It was a time when harvest baskets were still made of wood, the berries fell from the grape crusher into a cement vat and the old basket-presser was still pulled by the men who also woke up several times during the night to do the job. Then barrel after barrel was filled with the sweet must (grape juice) under the ashlar arch of the old cellar. And we did it, the wine turned out to be splendid! Ever since I have spent all my summers up on the hill with my parents, grandmother and then my own family.
A countless number of friends come and stay as long as they can because up on the hill time seems to stand still.
New people arrive too as the beauty of the landscape enchants everyone and the wine made here makes them want to stay.
We are on a wine hill amongst venerable press houses in the thousand-year-old harmony of silence, peace, land, and man.’