The Tasting Room at Gaia Winery
The plane landed on Santorini and we headed straight for Gaia Winery (pronounced "Yay-yah"). Through the windows of the van came flashes of white sandy fields with sparse vegetation, black and red mountains rising up from the foothills, and jagged outcroppings of volcanic rocks. As we neared the winery, an old chimney grew larger in our sights. We parked in its shadows and our group wandered out into the sunlight in various states of jetlag and sleep deprivation. Maybe it was partly due to the dream state we all seemed to be in, but it was clear to all we had just entered an other-wordly paradise.
The winery is an old tomato processing plant - turned nightclub - turned winery, and vestiges of both former lives are apparent as you walk through the building complex. This chimney once played a big part in making thousands of gallons of tomato paste. Santorini is famous for delicious tomatoes that have a unique bite to them due to the volcanic soils. At one time, 18 tomato processing plants thrived on the island, similar to this one. Today, there is only one.
The old tomato factories are either destroyed or repurposed, and this one works great as a location for aging Gaia's Vin Santo.
The old tomato factories are either destroyed or repurposed, and this one works great as a location for aging Gaia's Vin Santo.
The tasting room (formerly the dance floor for the nightclub) is perched on the edge of the Mediterranean. From this unique volcanic beach, it is difficult to imagine that this is the same sea that washes ashore on Croatia's verdant coastline, and that these are the same waves that lap against the jagged rocks that rise up from the Amalfi Coast.
Black Sand Beach on Santorini A few steps from the winery the sea pounds against a beach of black sand, studded with ancient bits of lava, pumice, and sulphur. It's the same volcanic soil in which the vines struggle.
On this day, the waves seemed a bit violent; possibly a good day for some small-time surfing. As you approached the water, powerful crests came crashing down on grapefruit-sized rocks, shaping them into soft, round stones. Once the water hit the beach it disappeared quickly as it filtered through course sand-- exactly the opposite of how a crashed wave rides up several meters on the compact, silky sand of a Caribbean beach.
But in the tasting room, away from the vociferous meeting of water and rock, the sound of the crashes had a lulling, gentle effect. You couldn't block out the sound of the waves, just as you cannot separate the influence of the ocean when you taste these wines.
On this day, the waves seemed a bit violent; possibly a good day for some small-time surfing. As you approached the water, powerful crests came crashing down on grapefruit-sized rocks, shaping them into soft, round stones. Once the water hit the beach it disappeared quickly as it filtered through course sand-- exactly the opposite of how a crashed wave rides up several meters on the compact, silky sand of a Caribbean beach.
But in the tasting room, away from the vociferous meeting of water and rock, the sound of the crashes had a lulling, gentle effect. You couldn't block out the sound of the waves, just as you cannot separate the influence of the ocean when you taste these wines.
An old vineyard on Santorini Yiannis Paraskevopoulos is the man pulling the strings behind this operation. He spirited us off to a historic vineyard with some of the oldest ungrafted vines in the world. The root systems of these plants are 300-500 years old.
Most of the vines on the island (with the exception of some of Sigalas' vineyards) are trained as a basket. Each year, the wood from the previous year is coiled to form another ring of the basket-- counting the rings, you'll see some baskets are close to a century old. When the baskets are about 80-100 years old, they are snipped off, and a new basket is started from shoots that come up from the root system.
The nutrients pulled up from the soil by the vast, ancient root system must coil through-- in some cases-- a football field's length of vine before reaching the fruit.
Most of the vines on the island (with the exception of some of Sigalas' vineyards) are trained as a basket. Each year, the wood from the previous year is coiled to form another ring of the basket-- counting the rings, you'll see some baskets are close to a century old. When the baskets are about 80-100 years old, they are snipped off, and a new basket is started from shoots that come up from the root system.
The nutrients pulled up from the soil by the vast, ancient root system must coil through-- in some cases-- a football field's length of vine before reaching the fruit.
A snail shell on the volcanic vineyard soil The soils in the vineyards are not unlike the beach sand off the winery steps. White and black sands, yellow sulphur rocks, red pumice, and snail shells form a deep layer of volcanic-based soils practically devoid of organic material. It's mind-boggling to walk above root systems that have been mining this rock collection for half a millennium.
old vines in one Yiannis' vineyards Here are a few different angles of a single plant-- you can see the coil pattern of the older growth when you look at the plant from the inside, or from the side. You can see a grape bunch tucked in the center of the basket, where it will be protected from high winds that can rip across the sands at up to Beaufort Force 8.
Training vines in this basket method is laborious and time consuming. Pruning takes weeks, sometimes months.
Most of the vineyards are owned and worked by locals who have passed down vine training/pruning techniques through the generations. There are about 1,000 growers who hold an average of less than 1 hectare. These growers sell their grapes to one of the 13 wineries on the island.
When Yiannis wonders aloud to some of his growers why so much hard labor is put into so few grapes, they say they do it "to be unbored." (ha!) You might also see the faint trenches they've dug (in unbored states) between the rows-- these are dug to help water distribute evenly throughout the vineyard in a heavy rain.
Aside from the occasional heavy rain, one of the biggest vineyard destroyers is a unique wind that blows up from the Sahara every few years. Known as the Livas, the hot wind can "turn your grapes to raisins in a day," Yiannis notes. "It can destroy your harvest." Other winds besides the Livas can also be threatening. In 2012, Force 11 winds "didn't stop for three days and we lost 75% of our berries right at budbreak."
Another winemaker, Stefanos from Argyros Estate, also lamented the 2012 damage. Shaking his head, he said, "I remember the date. April 18th 2012," as he despairingly recalled hurricane-force winds in his vineyards.
Training vines in this basket method is laborious and time consuming. Pruning takes weeks, sometimes months.
Most of the vineyards are owned and worked by locals who have passed down vine training/pruning techniques through the generations. There are about 1,000 growers who hold an average of less than 1 hectare. These growers sell their grapes to one of the 13 wineries on the island.
When Yiannis wonders aloud to some of his growers why so much hard labor is put into so few grapes, they say they do it "to be unbored." (ha!) You might also see the faint trenches they've dug (in unbored states) between the rows-- these are dug to help water distribute evenly throughout the vineyard in a heavy rain.
Aside from the occasional heavy rain, one of the biggest vineyard destroyers is a unique wind that blows up from the Sahara every few years. Known as the Livas, the hot wind can "turn your grapes to raisins in a day," Yiannis notes. "It can destroy your harvest." Other winds besides the Livas can also be threatening. In 2012, Force 11 winds "didn't stop for three days and we lost 75% of our berries right at budbreak."
Another winemaker, Stefanos from Argyros Estate, also lamented the 2012 damage. Shaking his head, he said, "I remember the date. April 18th 2012," as he despairingly recalled hurricane-force winds in his vineyards.
Yiannis exposes the inner structure of the basket vine And so, basket training is a necessity in most places on the island.
Here, Yiannis lifts up a basket from the bottom, revealing the coil-like training method, and showing us some of the older wood snaked at the bottom.
Here, Yiannis lifts up a basket from the bottom, revealing the coil-like training method, and showing us some of the older wood snaked at the bottom.
Yiannis Paraskevopoulos We tasted through several of Yiannis' wines. Here are a few notes from some of my personal favorites:
2013 "Wild Ferment" Assyrtiko
1/2 barrique - 1/2 stainless steel
of the barriques: 1/3 Acacia, 1/3 French, 1/3 American
A unique herbaceous aroma of dark green shiso leaves; a soft oak structure that hides like lace behind the bracing acidity; the finish tastes like fresh grapefruit and you feel a unique cooling sensation on the gums.
2009 'Thalassitis' Assyrtiko
unoaked
round aromas, like a fluffy lemon meringue; a dancing midpalate; a unique sensation of cooling on the palate similar to the 2013 wild ferment; the sensation you get from chewing mint without the mint flavor.
2013 'Thalassitis' Assyrtiko
unoaked
lemons, salts, and stones; a vibrant electric midpalate; a dense yet light flavor, like an airy meringue made of salted pomice, lemon zest, and electric sparks.
*notes from a visit/tasting on 6/4/2014
2013 "Wild Ferment" Assyrtiko
1/2 barrique - 1/2 stainless steel
of the barriques: 1/3 Acacia, 1/3 French, 1/3 American
A unique herbaceous aroma of dark green shiso leaves; a soft oak structure that hides like lace behind the bracing acidity; the finish tastes like fresh grapefruit and you feel a unique cooling sensation on the gums.
2009 'Thalassitis' Assyrtiko
unoaked
round aromas, like a fluffy lemon meringue; a dancing midpalate; a unique sensation of cooling on the palate similar to the 2013 wild ferment; the sensation you get from chewing mint without the mint flavor.
2013 'Thalassitis' Assyrtiko
unoaked
lemons, salts, and stones; a vibrant electric midpalate; a dense yet light flavor, like an airy meringue made of salted pomice, lemon zest, and electric sparks.
*notes from a visit/tasting on 6/4/2014
Vin Santo bottles from a few producers - Gaia's Vin Santo aging in barrel 
Vin Santo 
Vin Santo's unique flavor profile is a direct result of the volcanic soils. Even shadows cast by Vin Santo look like volcanic eruptions. 
RSS Feed
