I was still a child when I received the honour and mission to carry on the history of Barolo Chinato Cappellano through the teaching of the recipe, the techniques, and the wise practices. Left free to pursue my inclinations besides winemaking, I spent much of my youth between the mortar and chemistry studies. Once I finally started an academic career, something changed when I contemplated a sunset through the vineyards. Something was not quite right, and I realised that my nature and sense of belonging were driving me back to the wine and the cellar.
“One has to be a bit crazy to choose to spend their life gazing up to the skies”, as my father used to say hinting at the preoccupations caused by bad weather, which mark the fate of a farmer... actually though, at the bottom of this sentence rightly lies a good dose of romanticism. I am ‒ unfortunately ‒ a romantic like my father and ‒ just like him ‒ I am no doubt a bit crazy.
His passing was an incredible loss and sufferance for all of us and the company. Few were willing to bet that there was a future for us. As it turned out, the sleepless nights mourning on an irrecoverable loss have been my and our strength. We stood still, and we have changed a lot. We brought order to the creative chaos of the genius Baldo; we have systematised, restructured, perfected things. Like my father, I believe that respect and protection of nature and environment make a fundamental difference. I am not compromising on quality when it comes to interventions in the vines or in the cellar, and I consider myself lucky to be able to combine the farmer’s wisdom and the technical and scientific knowledge of organic growing practices. This does not hinder, I believe, the honesty and organoleptic quality: for my challenge is to guide nature, to let nature express herself. I also believe that people always make a difference, that relations have to be cultivated and given proper value. This is a commitment which I owe it to my happiness, to the memory of my father, and to the people around me. Cantina Cappellano is what it is today thanks to my ancestors, and to my father. But also thanks to my friend winemakers who were by my side and supported me when I lost my father. Thanks to my mother who has always been and still is a pillar of the company. Thanks to each and every one of my older and more recent collaborators who believe in and love the philosophy which animates the Cantina Cappellano.
And today, while I grind the spices with the very same tools my great-uncle used, I can call myself proud to hold in my own hands the synthesis of a century and a half of my family’s history.
