Calabretta, Mount Etna, Nerello Mascalese, "Vecchie Vigne"

The slopes of Mount Etna produce some of the most fascinating wines in Italy—and some of the most singular in the world. The volcano is always alive, always whispering beneath the surface. When you stand on its flanks, just below the towering cone, you can feel the ground hum with energy. You’re only miles from magma and the inner workings of the earth, yet you find yourself drinking the product of vines that draw life from the same ash that has fallen here for centuries, layer upon layer. At night, a faint red glow flickers above the summit and the air trembles with the sound of shifting rock. And yet, in this landscape of constant destruction, vines cling stubbornly to the blackened soil, their roots pushing deep through lava and time. Out of that improbable marriage of fire and patience comes Nerello Mascalese—a grape that whispers instead of shouts. Often accompanied by its sister Nerello Cappuccio, and in rare corners even a few surviving vines of historic Pinot Noir (planted here since the 1800s), it yields wines of haunting perfume, pale color, and fine-boned structure—evoking the nuance of Burgundy and the soul of Barolo. Etna is rightly called the Burgundy of Italy, a mountain where slope, aspect, altitude, and ash combine to create microclimates as intricate and expressive as any Côte d’Or cru. Their importer, Rare Wine Co., says: “Calabretta is one of Mount Etna’s last great traditionalist estates, and its wines are a true gift for those who appreciate classically made Italian wines.” I couldn’t have said it better myself. These are wines with soul and raw honesty—made for those who value character over perfection, and truth over gloss. (Please note, this wine is declassified and not "Etna Rosso DOCG" due to the extended ageing which does not adhere to the DOCG rules.)

The Calabretta family has farmed the northern slopes of Etna—around Randazzo and the ridge above Castiglione di Sicilia—since the dawn of the 20th century, establishing their estate in 1900. Today, father and son Massimo and Massimiliano Calabretta drive the winery forward, steadfast in the traditions of their forebears, working in quiet dialogue with the mountain itself. Their vineyards, perched between 300 and 900 meters above sea level, cling to terraces of black volcanic ash, sand, and lava rock—soil so porous and alive that the vines sink their roots deep into cooled flows, stones piled beneath ancient dry-stone walls. Many of the vines are 70 to 80 years old, some still ungrafted, trained in the venerable alberello (goblet) style, and always hand-harvested. Farming is organic by default—no synthetic herbicides or pesticides—so minimal that you feel the earth breathing when you walk among the rows. In the cellar, time becomes another ingredient: indigenous yeasts steer the fermentations, macerations that stretch on patiently, guided more by intuition than by clock, and the wines are aged for six to eight years in large Slavonian oak botti (50–70 hL) before even the first bottle sees the light of day. Other producers rush to market; Calabretta stays behind the walls. The result is a wine that might share the structural patience of Barolo and the whisper of Brunello, yet pulses unmistakably with Etna’s volcanic heart.

The 2016 “Vigne Vecchie” (aka old vines) is a wine that makes you pause before the first sip. It pours a translucent garnet, the nose weaving together dried cherry, rose petal, crushed rock, smoky incense, and a flicker of tar and licorice—classic Nerello Mascalese signatures. On the palate, it’s a study in contrast: delicate yet firm, lifted yet grounded, with red fruit framed by savory tannins and a cool, stony finish that hums with volcanic energy. This is Etna Rosso in its most soulful, unhurried form—unfiltered, unadorned, and alive. If you love Burgundy, Barolo, or the soulful rusticity of Paolo Bea, it will strike the same chord. Decant for 20–30 minutes to let the perfume unfold in a large Burgundy stem, or tuck it away for a few more years. For the truest experience, pair it with a Sicilian braised chicken or swordfish with capers, olives, and tomato—the kind of meal that tastes like the island itself, sun, smoke, and sea in every bite.