Have you ever been at Fontanavecchia, in autumn, when the weather is pretending to be the beautiful season, and the wine branches reflect the colour of the sky in October? Or when the rain has put out the sun and fields have been freshly harvested, so that the fields are covered with the evergreen and in the air there is a perfume of the harvest? Pass by us, stop even just for a moment, to gaze at our beautiful hillsides. With their silence and beauty, you will be seduced by your senses. On these hillsides, someone once sat, and listened to the old time stories told by Grandma, as she remembered the first time she saw the roots of the oak trees that came from the earth, and how they surrounded the vine yards, on the eve of the picking of the first grapes for the aglianico and falanghina. Then the vision of the old house, the heart of the family, where in the passing of the years, exactly 150 years ago, the first vines where planted. The strong vines where grown, looked upon, by whom, barefoot, and content, controlled with love and passion the first, makings of our family wine.

My wine has flesh and bones, which are perfumed with my memories, the taste which covers ones tongue, and wakes up all of your senses, my wine is the blood of these fields and everything that I have in me.

Our wine cellars are a reminder of our story; it is made up of our work, our consistency and our passion.