Your cart is empty.
- In stock, ready to ship
- Inventory on the way
Vartsikhe Marani, Aladasturi
Today, the air is teeming with excitement because this rare “qvevri” bottling from the cradle of wine will most likely be a first for everyone, as it was for me. Having tasted an incalculable number of wines throughout my career, it’s hard to accurately describe just how thrilling and refreshing it is to uncover a “new” producer, grape, and region. Yes, I’ve had Georgian wine before, and I enjoy them immensely, but never from the indigenous Aladasturi grape in the western region of Imereti. This is one of Georgia’s primitive wine regions that can trace its winemaking back to 6000 B.C. And, amazingly, the ancient techniques haven’t changed all that much over eight millennia: to this day, traditional producers like Vartsikhe Marani spontaneously ferment and age their wines in large, clay “qvevri” that are buried underground. This, of course, has attracted the attention of just about every natural wine lover.
But the other exciting piece of today’s story lies in the native grape itself, Aladasturi. Well over 1,000 years ago, when a string of Caliphates ruled Georgia, wine from this specific grape was so adored amongst the Islamic occupiers, they named it “Aladasturi” or “God Approves.” As a result, they were able to consume the wine as often and freely as they desired in good conscience—this is a loophole we can get behind! Ultimately, this is a vivid, elegant, and uplifting red painstakingly crafted for thrill seekers and traditionalists alike. It’s also produced in severely small quantities, and each label sports a hand-written bottle number and signature. For $36, how can you say no?!
As in a lot of ex-communist republics, Georgia’s wine industry is still in recovery from decades of nationalized production, but some producers have clung mightily to their country’s primordial traditions—that’s especially the case of Vartsikhe Marani in Imereti, one of Georgia's five major wine regions. This is, after all, the “Cradle of Wine” so why would one let these ancient methods go to waste? These are people who are fiercely loyal to their indigineous grapes, the preservation of winemaking tradition, and above all, the camaraderie that only wine can engender. I’m reminded of a EuroNews video that I dug up for a previous qvevri offering, where a local summarized his people’s passion for wine in the most profound way: “In Georgian culture, vineyard is the most important thing. For a peasant, his grape vine comes first, and only next comes the family. That’s what our ancestors said.”
If you’ve tasted a wine from Georgia before, chances are it was from Kakheti, the most dominating region in terms of production, responsible for roughly 80% of the country’s total wine output! The region of Imereti, however, lies on the other side of the country near the Black Sea. Here, you’ll find Vartsikhe Marani, and in their cellar, you’ll only find qvevri.
The clay for these large, egg-shaped vessels is mined high up in local mountain ranges, and is rich in non ferrous metals and lime—which naturally protects the wine from over 400 different bacteria. The qvevri are created over several weeks by firing clay at blistering temperatures, and then they cool/harden for one month. Following, they are buried up to their necks which regulates the temperature between 55-59 degrees Fahrenheit. In 2018, the Aladasturi grapes went into these vessels and began fermenting spontaneously—during this time the grape pips and stems slowly started separating from the wine. After further aging, the wine was bottled without any fining, filtration, or sulfur and allowed more rest. For a wine made in such a primitive fashion to be technically sound is impressive, to say the least.
The appeal of today’s 2018 appeal extends well beyond historical romance and intellectual curiosity in the glass—this is a delicious red with its own distinct identity. Earthy, tangy, and ebullient, the wine quickly opens up with supple notes of red cherry, pomegranate seed, persimmon, crushed cranberries, redcurrant, and plum skin alongside underbrush, damp leaves, pepper, exotic spice, and potpourri. The palate is refreshingly light (only 11% alcohol) and dry with ample layers of red-fruited elegance and a persisting rock-clay minerality. It’s a taste like no other—guaranteed! Because nothing was extracted from this natural wine, I suggest a quick 15-minute decant before serving chilled in all-purpose stems and consuming over one evening. Cheers to you, or as the Georgians say, gagimarjos!
