It seems only yesterday that I first saw must in fermentation; but I was very small and my father very young, even though I saw him as just as old as I do now.
The wine, but first the must, the pressing, the grapes, the vine and its branches, the intense odour of the soil always take me back to the same starting point: in the middle of a vineyard, where all seems unchanging and eternal. It helps me a lot to remember those slow rhythms, call up those sweet unfocussed images, even if today it’s hard to relive them with the same ingenuousness.
I’ve certainly changed, wine growing costs sacrifice, time and constant dedication. But that I believe is right, this work would have no meaning if done just for the money, without real passion. I have the luck to be surrounded by friends who grew up in the same world and who feel themselves to be Vignaioli Dolomitici Wine-Makers, just as I do. We try to let our land speak for itself, naturally, recovering the antique arts of the peasant and farmer. Around a table we share our choice, our wine, and this is beyond price.