Hideaway Vingård: A Danish Hideaway of Wine and Soil
Karin Hvidtfeldt and Charlotte Lou Langdon at Hideaway. Photo: Ronja Bo Gustavsson
It is late August, and I arrive on the small island of Fejø in southern Denmark. The drive continues onto the ferry, and once on board I feel the shift that Karin Hvidtfeldt later describes: You take off your watch, drive onto the ferry, and suddenly you are in a hideaway.
A Hideaway on Fejø
The island is a patchwork of orchards and gardens. Along the narrow roads people sell apples, pears, plums, and berries from small self-serve stalls, lined with jars of jam and bottles of juice. The air feels softer here, and there is a rhythm to life that comes from working with the seasons.
“How can you have a green Michelin star in Denmark without local wine on the list?”
At Hideaway, the first thing that catches my eye is the house. It is a coral plaster–coloured building with verde acqua details, giving it a distinctly Mediterranean feeling. Beside it stands a cork oak tree, its thick bark a rare sight in Denmark. Behind the house, the vineyards open toward the southwest, catching the afternoon sun. Nearby, Karin tends her large fig garden, home to the biggest collection of figs grown in open ground in Northern Europe (!).
Karin and Charlotte Lou Langdon, known simply as Lou, welcome us with warmth. Karin leads us past the restaurant, Traktørstedet, where a large fig tree spreads its branches. We sit beneath it, its canopy forming a natural umbrella. It is not part of the fig garden itself, but this tree by the restaurant becomes our place to talk. It is here that the story of Hideaway begins.
From Harbor Vines to Hilltop Soils
Karin Hvidtfeldt and her husband, Michael Gundersen, began their journey in 2003 by planting a small vineyard at Vester Havn, down by the harbor. They called it “the little Hideaway,” a way to test if winegrowing could work on the island of Fejø.
“There was no vineyard by the harbor back then when we started growing wine on Fejø,” Karin says.
The test worked, and the dream grew. Fejø had not been their first target. They had searched across Denmark, looking for the right balance of soil, climate, and affordability. But for Karin, being close to her family on Lolland mattered too. She remembers travelling here as a green guide writing about sustainability in Copenhagen, and by coincidence stumbling upon the little harbor site.
By 2006 they were ready to take the next step. A piece of land at the top of the island became available, even though it was not officially on the market. The owners wanted young people to take it over. Karin exchanged her Copenhagen apartment to make the deal possible.
“Looking back, it was crazy,” she says with a smile.
That year they planted vines on the new hilltop site, where frost drains away down the slopes and the sun lingers longer. It became what is today Hideaway Vingård & Figenarboret.
The name Hideaway came from Karin’s husband, Michael. His cousin once had a small place in Jutland with that name, and it stayed with him. He also loved The Beatles, especially the line “I need a place to hide away.” Karin tells me, “When we bought our first place here on Fejø, down by the harbor, he said, ‘It has to be Hideaway.’ It fit perfectly. You step onto the ferry and leave everything behind.”
Michael’s passion extended beyond wine. He experimented with exotic plants in Denmark at a time when few thought it possible. “Back in 1998 he even won an award called “Winemaker of the world” in La Morra, Barolo,” Karin says. “That award started the idea that maybe wine could be grown here. He also wrote two books: Exotic Plants in Danish Gardens and Wine Growing in Denmark.” His vision included figs, Mediterranean plants, and grapes, all woven together. “He was the one testing grapes, running trials, even selling rootstocks to other growers. Many of the foundations of Danish wine came from his work.”
“We get on average over 200 hours more sun than most of Denmark. Combine that with our southern location and we get consistently higher temperatures.”
Karin Hvidtfeldt and Charlotte Lou Langdon at Hideaway. Photo: Ronja Bo Gustavsson
Where Solaris Turns Tropical
Fejø enjoys a microclimate that makes it stand out from much of Denmark. Karin points out that although the cork oak tree, palms, and figs suggest a Mediterranean setting, the climate itself is not truly Mediterranean. “What we do have is very little frost,” she says. “And if we do get frost, the plants seem to shrug it off. Everything can grow outdoors here without protection, which is rare in Denmark.”
“ Solaris tastes completely different depending on where it is grown. In Jutland it is often lean and fresh for sparkling. Here, with late harvest, it is exotic and tropical. There is not one Danish Solaris. There are many”
Lou explains that the key factor is sunshine. “We get on average over 200 hours more sun than most of Denmark. Combine that with our southern location and we get consistently higher temperatures. That means our grapes ripen faster, earlier, and with more sugar and aroma maturity. When we talk with other vineyards during harvest, we often find we are ahead. Our sugars are higher, our acidity already lower. This allows us to make wines with both alcohol and residual sugar in balance.”
Their signature wine Gåsefod (Late Harvest) is a good example, with 17 grams of residual sugar yet still fresh and lively. Solaris, Denmark’s most planted grape, becomes almost tropical here. “With late harvest we can bring out pineapple and mango notes,” Lou explains. “That is quite far from the apple and gooseberry character you get in less ripe Solaris.”
Karin adds, “That is what is fascinating. Solaris tastes completely different depending on where it is grown. In Jutland it is often lean and fresh for sparkling. Here, with late harvest, it is exotic and tropical. There is not one Danish Solaris. There are many.”
This diversity is both a challenge and an opportunity. “It is like German wines decades ago,” Karin says. “People only thought of Liebfraumilch or Blue Nun. But young growers changed the style, and the world had to be reintroduced to German Riesling. Danish wine is on a similar journey. We started with wines that were not always great, but now quality is much higher. It just takes time for people to update their impressions.”
Sommargås. Photo Ronja Bo Gustavsson
The red wine at Hideaway centre around a wine called Sommergås, which Lou describes as their way of capturing a Nordic style of red. It is made mainly from Rondo and Bolero, with supporting parts of Cabernet Cortis and Reberger. “The result is very fruity, soft tannins, fresh acidity. We want to define what a Nordic red can be: fresh, light, fruit-forward, served chilled.
The wine is made using the French method macération carbonique. Rondo and Bolero are lightly crushed and de-stemmed, beginning a spontaneous fermentation in open vats. After a few days, whole clusters of Cabernet Cortis and Reberger are layered on top of the fermenting must. The process continues under a blanket of CO₂, giving the wine its vivid colour and juicy aromatics. Once fermentation is complete, the wine is pressed, spends a short time in steel, and then matures for about seven months in barrel. During this period it also goes through malolactic fermentation.
When bottled, Sommergås is left unfiltered, which keeps texture and depth. It is a red, fruit-forward wine, with cherries, strawberries, raspberries, and notes of red roses. There is even a fleeting, almost liquorice-like note on the first sniff, but it disappears quickly. The aromas are fresh and elegant, the kind that make you want to drink. On the palate the wine is well balanced, with bright fruit and a lively acidity that carries it through.
Guests are often surprised, Karin notes: “They say, ‘I did not know red wine could be served cold, it is so fresh and fruity.’ It surprises them in a good way.”
“I have tasted Rondo before, but in this blend it shows a new side. This wine stands out as one of the best examples in the Nordics.”
Life in the Soil, Life in the Vineyard
If the sun and grapes give Hideaway its character, the soil gives it life. The vineyard lies on rich clay, with a layer of chalk one and a half meters below. “Clay is our foundation,” Lou says. “It holds nutrients and water. We do not irrigate or fertilize, so the clay helps the vines stay nourished even in droughts. Sometimes it looks dry on the surface, but the clay holds enough moisture to keep the vines going longer before stress shows.”
Chalk and some flint. Photo Ronja Bo Gustavsson
Lou’s path into wine began not with the cellar but with the soil. “For me, it all basically started with the field and the soil, because I was interested in biodynamics and permaculture,” she says. For years she worked as a permaculture teacher alongside her work at Hideaway. She completed the Diploma in Permaculture, a qualification that only eleven people in Denmark hold, which allows her to teach permaculture design and issue certificates.
Her philosophy has always been about more than sustainability. “I was always really interested in not just sustainability, but regenerative agriculture and a regenerative way of living. Living simply, growing your own food, looking after the soil, and leaving the place better than when you came.”
Over time her focus has shifted more toward the winery itself. “With time I’ve almost converted. Now I find the winery so exciting that sometimes I just want to be a winemaker and stay in the cellar. But then I go to the field again, and I love it. It’s really both for me.”
Today Lou is also studying winemaking at UC Davis, one of the leading wine schools in the world. Karin notes that she is one of very few in Denmark with such formal education. The combination of soil knowledge, permaculture training, and winemaking studies gives Lou a rare perspective in Danish wine.
“What matters is the life in the soil. People talk about terroir as sand, gravel, pH, but rarely about living organisms. A healthy soil has bacteria, fungi, nematodes, insects, mycelium: all forming a food web around the roots.”
Charlotte Lou Langdon at Hideaway. Photo Ronja Bo Gustavsson
For Lou, soil is more than minerals. “What matters is the life in the soil. People talk about terroir as sand, gravel, pH, but rarely about living organisms. A healthy soil has bacteria, fungi, nematodes, insects, mycelium: all forming a food web around the roots. Nutrients are locked in these organisms, so if the soil is alive the vines can access what they need. That creates resilience against disease and stress.”
Karin and Lou are working towards more and more regenerative practices. Every other year they roll out straw bales between the rows, adding around 35 tons of organic matter to break down slowly. “It feeds the roots and builds soil structure,” Karin explains. The compost heats up as life takes hold, sometimes steaming at 65 degrees. Lou recalls sowing green manure after spreading compost and feeling the soil change within a week. “It was loose, structured, alive. I thought, I need to call Karin: this is crazy! Can we do it again?”
They also experiment with leaving some rows almost untouched. Where the grass and flowers are left to grow, insect life explodes. Nettles stand for butterflies, wildflowers draw bees, and the vineyard hums with biodiversity. Lou says, “It is a balance. We do mechanical weeding and green cover like colleagues in England, but where we leave the rows undisturbed, life really takes over. I would love to do more of that.”
A flock of geese wanders through the vineyard, grazing and leaving manure behind. Photo: Ronja Bo Gustavsson
Animals also play their part. A flock of geese wanders through the vineyard, grazing and leaving manure behind. They keep the grass short and add to the closed loop of nutrients. Around the vineyard, Karin and Lou also tend orchards of hazelnuts, peaches, almonds, sorbus, and apricots. “A friend tested 45 apricot varieties in Denmark and found one from Siberia that actually works here,” Karin explains. “We ordered it. We also have bittersweet and sweet almonds, and I will be working with a chocolatier on almonds, figs, and apricots.”
Walking through the vines, Lou points out the work of rebuilding. Some of the oldest vines, planted in 2006, had large wounds from years of neglect when Michael became ill. They regenerated by pulling up new stems, creating better flow of water and nutrients. “The canopy changed completely,” Lou says. “This year we had mildew and other fungal diseases with all the moisture, but still the vines are stronger than before.”
Quality Over Quantity
Karin explains that their vision for Hideaway’s future is not to grow bigger but to grow deeper. “For us it’s about higher quality, not necessarily bigger volume. Many vineyards think in terms of expansion: more hectares, more tanks, more staff. We don’t. We want to refine what we already have. Add layers. One of these new layers is the upcoming “Bokashi compost bucket project”. Visitors will not only taste wine but also learn how to work with soil in a hands-on way. Bokashi is a Japanese method of fermenting food waste using beneficial microorganisms. Instead of rotting, the organic material ferments in an airtight bucket and becomes a nutrient-rich soil amendment.
Hideaway has developed its own Bokashi bucket made from recycled fishing nets. Guests can take one home, even if they live in a city apartment without a garden. Karin says, “It’s about rethinking waste and soil health while tasting wine.” For her, it is both education and regeneration, and it connects perfectly to the vineyard’s philosophy of building living soils.
They already green harvest to keep yields down and quality high. In good years they produce seven to eight thousand bottles, but never more. Last year, yields were closer to six thousand, and that is acceptable. “Our aim is that when people see Hideaway on a wine list, they recognize it as high quality.”
Exports remain small. They recently won a tender in Norway, but most of the wine is sold locally. “With only 1.4 hectares, we are not aiming for large-scale export like some of the bigger producers. For us, local makes more sense.”
The Danish restaurant scene is changing, but there is still room for improvement. Many Michelin restaurants highlight local food, yet their wine lists remain dominated by Burgundy and Champagne. Karin wonders, “How can you have a green Michelin star without local wine on the list?”
For Karin, it comes down to quality. “People should not drink Danish wine just because it is local. They should drink it because it is good. And today, the quality is good enough. The level is rising every year.”
A Cellar in Miniature
The winery at Hideaway is small. Hoses, tanks, and presses are scaled to the size of the vineyard. “Every bottle passes through our hands many times,” Lou says. “Winemaking is simple but also complex. The most complicated tool is our nose and palate. The rest is pumps, press, pipes.”
What stays with me from Hideaway is the silence. That night we slept in one of the small cabins, and by morning I noticed that both my friend and I spoke more softly. It was not something we tried to do; it just happened.
At breakfast under the fig tree by the restaurant, with local bread and jams while bees floated past, I felt how the stillness carried our voices. Even though I live north of Copenhagen, this was different. At Hideaway the calm arrives and you speak without effort, because the silence does the work for you.
Karin insists that tasting is the most important tool of all. “Many people just measure sugar, but forget to taste. That is why some wines do not taste balanced.” Lou agrees. “Tasting is everything. You need trust and challenge between us. We do not just say yes to each other. We question, and that makes the wine better.”
The Spirit of a True Hideaway
We later sit down to taste the wines. A sparkling made from Orion and Phoenix shows itself as a fresh 2-bar style with stone-fruit character, good acidity, and a touch of residual sugar that balances nicely with the mousse. Barrel-aged Solaris with creaminess and bread notes, late harvest Solaris, The red blend, based on Rondo, shows a fresh purple hue with bright cherries and soft, approachable tannins. Each bottle reflects the soil and the sun of Fejø in a different way.
Anyone interested in wine, and in discovering what Danish or Nordic wine can be in 2025, should visit Hideaway. And if a visit is not possible, then at least the wines should be tasted. They show a balance: acidity and residual sugar held carefully together.
The production remains small scale. The wines are vegan, fined with bentonite, and still bottled and labelled by hand. This is true craftsmanship, the kind that delivers fruit-driven wines with freshness, balance, and a clear sense of place.
The Sommergås Rødvin 2023, based on Rondo together with Bolero, Cabernet Cortis, and Reberger, is especially striking. Its aroma is a discovery in itself, deep but lifted. I have tasted Rondo before, but in this blend it shows a new side. This wine stands out as one of the best examples in the Nordics, I have come across.
For sommeliers across Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Finland, there is a strong emphasis on local food in the kitchen. The challenge is that wine lists often do not mirror that same focus. Too many still look abroad, while wines like Hideaway’s show that what we produce locally is sustainable, exciting, and full of new ideas. We should be proud of what we can achieve in a cold climate.
Karin sums up their philosophy. “We try to keep the business authentic. We do not have the big budgets of larger wineries, but we focus on quality and storytelling. It is about living from this small piece of soil again, just as the fruit farmers did decades ago.”
Lou adds her own perspective. “For me, it is about curiosity. Always trying, experimenting, asking questions. That is how the soil and the wines keep getting better.”
Hideaway is true to its name. It is a place where figs and vines grow side by side, where geese wander the rows, where compost steams with life, and where imagination is allowed to take root. Above all, it is a place where wine is made with care rather than scale.
