The juice runs blood-red, almost black, between my fingers. Saperavi, ‘bringer of colour’ is the name of the grape variety from which I am crushing a berry in my hand. Here, in the small vine nursery of the Shumi winery in Tsinandali in the eastern Georgian region of Kakheti, you quickly realise what makes these grapes so good. The juice of the berries from the neighbouring vine is pale in comparison. In fact, the flesh of most red wine grapes is white and it is the grape skins that provide the colour in red wine production. The flesh of the Saperavi, on the contrary, is dark purple. This is why the juice of the grapes was even used for colouring in the past.
This is the reason why the Saperavi is something of a secret star here. Even though several hundred grape varieties are cultivated in Shumi’s miniature vineyard, Saperavi is the most widely cultivated red wine grape in Georgia. In Kakheti, it even accounts for 80 per cent. The region and grape variety came to the attention of European wine specialists as early as the 19th century. ‘The richest wine country in Asia today is Georgia and Kakheti, already known as such in ancient times,’ enthused the German ministerial advisor and wine author Wilhelm Hamm in 1874. ‘The latter province practises almost no agriculture at all; the entire attention and activity of the inhabitants of this vast garden, one of the richest spots on earth, where soil and climate unite to produce lush vegetation, is focussed on viticulture.’
The great tradition of Saperavi
For Hamm, the ‘Kakhetian wine’, preferably that from Tsinandali, is ‘more excellent than all other wines of Transcaucasia’, which has its reason ‘partly in the soil, but even more in the better grape variety’. At around the same time, Henry Vizetelly, who attended the international wine tasting at the Vienna World Exhibition as a British juror in 1873, analysed this grape variety in more detail. He also considered Kakhetian wines ‘really remarkable alike for flavour, finesse, and highly-developed bouquet’. The ‘Caucasus grape, the Sapperavy’, passed ‘most successfully through the test’.
It is no wonder that the poets of the time also favoured Kakhetian wine. Alexander Pushkin, on a military mission to Georgia in 1829, noted that the ‘Kakhetians can outdo many a Burgundian’. The German writer Friedrich von Bodenstedt was inspired on site by the Persian-Azerbaijani poet Mirza-Shaffy and repeatedly romanticised the effect of the ‘fiery, blood-red wines of Kakhetos’. At this time, the Caucasus was considered a ‘wild land’, as Tolstoy put it. Russian Romanticism in particular longed for it because of the freedom that could be experienced here. And its archaic beauty as a kind of ‘Russian Italy’, where things could be found that no longer existed elsewhere. In view of the civil wars of the late 20th century, little has remained of this – apart from the idea of viticulture there. In fact, it is Georgia’s ‘calling card to the world’ (Lisa Granik), not only for economic but also for cultural reasons. When the international raw and natural wine scene began to form around 2010 out of frustration with increasingly ‘made’ industrial wines, it didn’t take long for Georgia to become the new ‘it’ destination for anti-establishment drinkers.
Shumi Winery
To what extent this corresponds to the reality on the ground was one of the questions that our wine travel group wanted to get to the bottom of during our trip to Kakheti. Here 70 per cent of Georgia’s vineyards are located. In fact, this region in eastern Georgia is drier than the western parts of the country, which are influenced by the climate of the Black Sea. The Caucasus Mountains protect against the cold from the north and at the same time provide cooling winds and sufficient rainfall. If you want to compare the wine region, which concentrates mainly in the Alasani Valley, with another, the Napa Valley comes to mind. The Californian ‘Garden of Eden’ is astonishingly similar to its Georgian counterpart in terms of its geography, with vineyards protected by mountains to the east and west around the course of the Napa River. Its Rutherford, one of its historic Grand Crus, is Tsinandali, which Wilhelm Hamm has praised above. Our first visit is therefore to the local Shumi Winery.
The Alasani Valley has striking parallels with the Napa Valley.
The winery, whose symbol, a griffin, watches over the winery as a mighty sculpture, is famous throughout the country for its wine tourism offerings. In addition to the grape variety garden, this also includes a small museum and a show kitchen for traditional specialities of the country such as Shotis Puri, the traditional white bread baked in a clay oven, or Churtschchela confectionery made from walnuts and grape juice. These are of course also served with the meal that accompanies our tasting. The highlight of this is Saperavi wines of different origins and styles. One from Tsinandali itself, then a single-vineyard wine from the nearby village of Mukuzani and a semi-dry Kindzmarauli. Finally, the young sommelier opens the Cuvée Salome from the vineyard of the same name in the village of Napareuli for us. The grapes come from organic and biodynamic cultivation, for which Shumi is a pioneer in Kakheti. It is an outstanding wine of international class, which of course also corresponds to the price.
Tsinandali Estate
The following day, we come across one of the roots of this outstanding wine culture. In fact, the Shumi Winery was founded in 1997 from the ruins of one of Georgia’s most traditional wineries, the Tsinandali Estate, founded by Prince Alexander Chavchavadze in the 1830s. Chavchavadze, whose father served as ambassador of the Kingdom of Kartli Kakheti in Russia and whose godmother was Tsarina Catherine II, was one of the most illustrious representatives of the Georgian aristocracy of the time. Highly decorated in campaigns that were to take him as far as Paris, he was also a protagonist of literary romanticism in Georgia. Although he ran a widely acclaimed salon in Tbilisi, he had a villa and garden built in Tsinandali in Kakheti, to which he added a European-style winery. It was the first in the region to incorporate French winemaking practices such as bottling and ageing in wooden barrels. Despite the upheavals that followed, both the villa and the winery have been preserved and are now open to visitors as part of the Tsinandali Estate.
Today, the villa is a museum reminiscent of Alexander Chavchavadze and Georgian romanticism of the 19th century – even if the attendants emanate the old Soviet spirit. The Romanov tsarist family owned the winery in the 1880s. Nationalised after the revolution, it finally turned into a ‘wine factory’. As a result of the land reform of independent Georgia, the estate’s land passed to numerous owners, such as today’s Shumi Winery. The old winery, rebuilt by investors as Prince Alexander Chavchavadze Tsinandali Estate, now not only contains a new winery and a formidable restaurant, but also the estate’s historic wine cellar. Rarities such as an 1861 Château d՚Yquem, a Château Latour from 1900 and a Polish honey wine from 1814 lie dormant here. Their value is probably surpassed by an 1841 Saperavi. The first wine that Prince Alexander vinified here and probably the oldest unopened bottle of Georgian wine.
The cradle of wine
Tsinandali is, of course, just one of several rebirths that Georgian viticulture, and with it Kakhetian viticulture, has experienced in its history. Ever since archaeologists discovered the oldest, 8,000-year-old traces of wine in the early Stone Age settlement of Shulaveris Gora south of Tbilisi, Georgia has claimed to be the cradle of viticulture. As fragile as the exclusivity of this claim is – after all, the associated Shulaveri-Shomu culture extended across the present-day countries of Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan and northern Iran – the millennia-old continuity of wine production in Georgia and its connection to folk culture, which remains closer here than in any other country in the world, is indisputable. There is hardly any other place where this can be better understood than in Kvareli. In the valley formed by the Alasani River, which forms the heart of the inner Kakheti wine-growing region, the village is located roughly opposite to Tsinandali, to the eastern side at the foot of the Caucasus Mountains, whereas Tsinandali nestles against the western Gombori range of hills.
Old and new
Here in Kvareli, Tbilvino, one of the largest wineries in the country, is located in one of the old Soviet ‘wine factories’ directly on the country road. Ancient Russian ZIL-130 tipper trucks still bring the grapes to the weighbridge at harvest time and then transport the pomace away again in return. Inside, however, state-of-the-art pneumatic presses shine brightly and a young, smart oenologist lets us taste promising barrel samples. The climb up to one of the huge stainless steel tanks on the outside opens up an overwhelming view of the Caucasus. On the first forest-covered ridge directly opposite, the Nekresi monastery lies like the crest of a wave.
The complex was built from the 4th century over a fire sanctuary of Persian Zarathustra followers and was a centre for the Christianisation of eastern Georgia. Its symbol was a cross made of grapevines, which Saint Nino, the missionary of the country, is said to have tied together with her own hair. The 9th century bishop’s palace in Nekresi still exists today. Its basement houses one of the oldest preserved wine cellars in the country. As in all ‘marani’ in Georgia before the 19th century, the wine did not age in barrels but in buried clay jugs, the qvevris. Alongside the diversity of grape varieties, they are Georgia’s second gift to the world’s wine culture. They have been a UNESCO ‘intangible world cultural heritage’ since 2013.
The Qvevri culture
Like many things to do with viticulture in Georgia, the ageing of wine in Qvevris has a mythical-religious symbolism. Here, wine is regarded as a personality that spends its embryonic phase in the Qvevris as if in an egg. The added grape skins are also called ‘Deda’, meaning mother. If a wine is produced without these, i.e. quasi European, the wine is labelled ‘Udeda’, i.e. ‘motherless’. Despite this connotation, this traditional and elaborate production method almost fell victim to the country’s membership of the USSR. Due to the collective organisation of viticulture in the central Samtrest authority and the rigid, industrially efficient ambition of the five-year plans, Qvevri production survived almost exclusively in the private sector and monasteries. No wonder that today only 3 per cent of Georgian wine production takes place in Qvevris.
Nevertheless, it is inextricably linked to the identity of Georgian viticulture and is often the first point of contact for the steadily growing interest in Georgian wine abroad. The use of clay jugs or their ‘burial’ in the ground is less important than the fact that the wine matures in the jugs on the grape skins and sometimes also the stems, both red and white wine, giving the latter a distinctive amber colour. Georgians like to distinguish this from the ‘orange’ of the European natural wine scene. Here too, Kakheti has a special status, requiring five to six months of fermentation and maturation on the skins. It differs considerably from the ‘softer’ methods used in other regions of Georgia. In the western Georgian “Imeretic method”, only about 3 percent of the must ferments together with the must in the Qvevris.
Château Buera
The almost non-existent connection to a traditional form of top-quality qvevri production and the ‘reinvention’ of Georgian viticulture that only took place a few decades ago are the reasons why even traditionally orientated winemakers from Kakheti are constantly experimenting in their cellars. This includes the use of old, rediscovered grape varieties such as the white wine variety Kisi, the frequency of marc soaking and even the introduction of cooling systems for the Qvevris. Only recently have the first wineries, such as the Chelti Winery in Shilda, also started to release their wines as reserves rather than marketing them young. Château Buera, located in the mountains east of Napareuli, only presented its first vintage in 2018. Like the luxury resort of Lopota, of which the winery is now a part, it was founded by Goga Maisuradze. Daughter Ana, who runs the winery after her father’s death, organised the international ‘Women in Wine Expo’ here in 2022.
In addition to Georgian grape varieties, international sorts such as Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay as well as a sparkling wine are also produced here. Not least, as is freely admitted, in order to be able to offer different styles of wine in the resort’s various restaurants. But the winery is programmatically named after the old grape variety Buera. This is to be cultivated and revitalised in experimental cultivation around the castle. And the Qvevri bottlings are consistently vinified in the traditional way. As we were able to see for ourselves when we immersed the cap of marc in the ‘Marani’. The cuvées that were produced in a ‘hybrid’ style were particularly impressive during the tasting. This means that after ageing in Qvevri, the wine was aged in French or Caucasian oak barrels.
Kakha Tchotiashvili and Teliani Valley
Kakha Tchotiashvili also plays with this combination. He is one of the country’s most renowned oenologists and has also worked in Germany. He has been running his own winery in nearby Sapiore near Napareuli since 2013. His property is home to some ancient Qvevris, which differ from today’s vines only in their slightly different shape and the type of straps. He himself is experimenting with clay jugs, some of which are hundreds of years old, which he believes are of better quality than modern ones. But he also uses small sizes for micro-vinification and cooling methods that slow down fermentation. However, he insists on Caucasian wood from the Maikop forests in the Russian Republic of Adygea for the subsequent maturation of some bottlings in wooden barrels. Unlike French wood, this would not release vanillin into the wine.
We leave Kakheti via the old provincial capital of Telavi to reach our starting point in Tbilisi via the Gombori Pass at an altitude of 1,600 metres. Telavi was the residence of the Kakhetian kings in the 17th and 18th centuries. But today the small town of just under 20,000 inhabitants exudes a tranquil calm. After all, some of the largest wineries in the country are located here. Teliani Valley, for example, is one of Georgia’s big players and even supplies German discounters such as Lidl with semi-dry Saperavi called 8K. However, the company also produces sophisticated wines such as the Glekhuri line, which is produced in Qvevris. Highly individualised bottlings from innovative small winegrowers are also sold under the Georgian Artisan Wine label. A midwife project that should find international successors
Chona’s Marani
Before we leave, we visit the Chonishvili family. They have been producing wine as a sideline for three generations. Mikheil “Chona” Chonishvili learned the craft from his father as a child. In 2014 he founded Chona’s Marani to produce “natural wines” without chemical additives. The small winery is a pure family affair. His wife designed the labels, the grapes come from a small vineyard near Tsinandali, but also from close relatives. Father Giorgi keeps an eye on things when his son, a member of the internationally renowned six-piece vocal ensemble Alilo, is traveling. He clearly enjoys leading us through the wild garden of his house into a freshly cemented wing of the building. Here some brand new Qvevris have just been filled with the must of the young vintage.
Hosted by wife Elena, we taste wines from the white grape varieties Rkatsiteli, Kisi and Chinuri in the family’s intimate living room. They are tart and full of character, thanks to the many tannins that have made their way into the wine through prolonged contact with the skins and stems. It is “a red wine from white vines”, remarks our host with a grin, which is why we don’t drink it cold, but at cellar temperature. With the red Saperavi to finish, we stand admittedly on more familiar ground. Giorgi Chonishvili was Dean of the Faculty of Physics at the University of Tbilisi for 20 years. As an emeritus professor, he is once again devoting himself to viticulture in Kakheti, for which a new and exciting chapter has begun with his son’s generation. We leave Georgia with the feeling that we have only just caught a glimpse of the country’s incredibly diverse and fascinating wine culture.
Note
The travel was organised by the Georgian Wine Information Office and the LEPL National Wine Agency of Georgia.
Captions
Lead photo: Monumental griffin of the Shumi Winery
Introduction: Nursery of the Shumi Winery (above), Archangel Church of Gremi, royal seat and former capital of Kakheti (below)
The great tradition of Saperavi: Saperavi vines at Chelti Winery (above), view from the Alasani Valley to the southern slopes of the Caucasus (below)
Shumi Winery: Entrance to the winery (above), replica of a centuries-old vine from the surrounding area (below)
Tsinandali Estate: Alexander Chavchavadze villa/museum (above), treasury (below)
The cradle of wine: Vines near the Tbilvino winery
Old and new: Trester collection at Tbilvino (above), view towards the Nekresi monastery (below)
The culture of Qvevris: Qvevris at Shumi Winery (above), pumping over the marc cap at Château Buera (below)
Château Buera: The newly built château (above), bottle storage on the so-called ‘wine path’ inside Château Buera (below)
Kakha Tchotiashvili and Teliani: Old qvevris in the garden of Kakha Tchotiashvili (above), combined barrel wine and qvevri cellar at Teliani Valley (below)
Chona’s Marani: Construction of the new Qvevri cellar (above), Giorgi Chonishvili (below)
Image rights
Stefan Pegatzky / Time Tunnel Images
