Cseri Pincészet
A brief history
A declaration of love to the vineyards of Pannonhalma
Your gaze brushes over the gentle hills of Pannonhalma. The late summer morning awakes with the sun softly bathing the landscape in red light. The fox and the rabbit go to sleep, a busy new day dawns. The light lifts its mist like a veil, and clears the view of its unbridled, wonderfully green and vast landscape. Warmth dries the morning thaw, filling the air with intoxicating sweetness and spices. It is here that we unfold the wings of our minds and our love of nature. Our harmony with the soul of the terroir gifts us the fruit of the vine. Nature and our hard work, the magic of creation fills our bottles with the taste of life and the warmth of the sun. This is our little paradise on earth. Our love and devotion are infinite, beloved Earth.
Your gaze brushes over the gentle hills of Pannonhalma. The late summer morning awakes with the sun softly bathing the landscape in red light. The fox and the rabbit go to sleep, a busy new day dawns. The light lifts its mist like a veil, and clears the view of its unbridled, wonderfully green and vast landscape. Warmth dries the morning thaw, filling the air with intoxicating sweetness and spices. It is here that we unfold the wings of our minds and our love of nature. Our harmony with the soul of the terroir gifts us the fruit of the vine. Nature and our hard work, the magic of creation fills our bottles with the taste of life and the warmth of the sun. This is our little paradise on earth. Our love and devotion are infinite, beloved Earth.
