White wine

We arrived late to San Floriano del Collio after visiting a couple of both well known and unknown vineyards in the heart of Friuli.

The same day I had already enjoyed a glass of the sensational Picolit at Rocca Bernarda, tasted the mature Tocai Friulano/Chardonnay cuvée (2000) "Ronco degli Agostiniani", the last vintage made by Walter Filiputti (from when he still was making wine at the ancient monestary "Abbazia di Rosazzo") and some other excellent wines which I would like to 'keep for myself'. But I was still in the mood for discovering something unknown, although we have had a day of fantastic tastings and inspiring discussions. Not mentioning the cases of these and other producers wines in the trunk.

Usually, all year around, guests are welcome to visit growers and winemakers, if you arrive at normal visiting hours of course. But there are some periods when they don't welcome you. It's maybe not hard to guess, but I say it anyway: Harvest time, for example, is not a good time to knock on a winemakers door. Or in the San Floriano case - when the producer and his family is working late bottling the last vintage to make space for the next harvest.

All family members were working on the mobile bottling machine, which they only can use a couple of days per year as it is shared with the other winemakers of San Floriano. And this was after sunset, but we entered anyway; it was the last chance this day to discover another Picolit. First I felt a bit inconvenient, as I know how it feels when someone's busy doing something important and still have to be polite and hospitable with a stranger. After 2 minutes of explaining our situtation, or let's say, desperation, we stood in the 400 year old cellar. And the uncomfortable situation had turned into the opposite.

If you know the map of the Central Europe, you know that this part (Friuli) of todays Italy is bordering to Slovenia. The village of San Floriano is actually on the border, and the wine district is reaching into both countries. And maybe if you also know some history, you can imagine that this region has experienced many battles and 'owner changes'. The cantina we were standing is the only one remaining in this village after bombings during both first and second world war.

The other remarkable thing with this cantina is that there is a well where the water level is only 2-3 meters below the floor - in the cellar. This may not sound very unusual, but it is. Why? Because the cellar is located quite high up on the hills, and no other vineyard in this village has water so high up the mountain. This means that there is a lot of ground water for the neighboring vineyards. A good helper in years when it doesn't rain enough.

The information about the well and the cellar story was delivered to me by mr Muzic, owner and winemaker. After inviting us to try his wines he immediately quit working on the bottling machine. Without stressing us through a touristic 'try and buy-tasting' he sat down with us and we transformed into welcomed guests. After a few sips of the Collio Sauvignon Blanc I felt that this is a moment to remember and the discussion with the proprietor reached much deeper than it can be between a host and his first time guest. On the other hand, it was not the first time I felt like this. Actually, this feeling is fairly common when you spend some time with a traditional winemaker…

Does it matter what we talked about? - Of course it does, but I don't find it relevant to publish that in this article. Does it matter what we drank? - Yes and no. Both the Collio Cabernet Sauvignon and the Isonzo Cabernet Franc was good, and the Primo Legno I tried later on was excellent. But why analyze if the "Cabernet Sauvignon is better than the Franc"? Or even worse; When hearing phrases like 'I prefer red wine in front of white' I think that people who say so haven't spent many coins on the necessary bottles of white to have for occasions like '…just in case if one of our dinner party guests prefer white'.

I end this story shortly by compressing my thoughts into one line, like compressing a year's work in the vineyard into one barrel, bottle or just a glass of white wine:

A glass of good wine contains more than the wine itself.