And this pedigree can be inferred by its awards, reviews by acclaimed critics extolling its excellence, its ratings in trade publications and, however paradoxical it may seem, from the price in the wine shop.

But is this really always the case, come what may? In our opinion, no. While not dismissing the importance of informed, specialized critique, it seems to us that an evaluation based on such standardized criteria, cloaked in presumed objectivity, only partially reveals the greatness of a product. The risk is to level the taste and restrict the pleasure of drinking well on levels of absoluteness. That may greatly satisfy the market, but it will never convey the complexity of a region, an area, a professionalism that does not necessarily chase great prizes at all costs in order to be able to stand out.

Wine is not a product like any other.

For example, with red wines there is an almost obsessive pursuit for concentration, the density of the wine, being aged in oak barrels, etc., even when not needed. The result is that often, thanks to cellar techniques, (which are, by no means, discreditable in themselves), prestigious wines can be produced even from vines considered not particularly “important”. They can be very far from their original characteristics, betraying features that, when expressed, could lead to results of absolute value if not excellence.

Wines understood in this way, and this applies equally to white wines, run the risk of being only products conceived for consumption, reliable and as free from surprises as possible. They meet the taste of the public at any price but the quality of a wine, the real one, is another story…

The ageing capacity of a wine is not a qualitative criterion.

There are wines destined for ageing, while others are for consumption within a year of production. For some this is itself already a qualitative criterion, even before being objective. It is legitimate to raise doubts about the validity of a criterion that not only guides the choice of purchase, but also tends to establish a hierarchy of values.

To make a comparison, the terms must be homogeneous. Comparing a Barolo to a Chianti makes no more sense than comparing a Beethoven symphony to a Beatles song; we are talking about very different things. The only thing they have in common is the fact that they are music. Just as Champagne and Conegliano Valdobbiadene Prosecco Superiore have in common the fact that they are wines. Nothing else. But each one, when made well, gives us unique sensations, absolutely incomparable to the other. Their diversity is their real strength, the joy of all enthusiasts. The problem is that more and more often you risk coming across wines that, regardless of their origin, all look a bit alike…

And this is where we have to start. A wine is the result of many things – peculiarities of the land, direction of exposure of the vineyard to the sun, type of vine cultivated, ways of growing the vine, type of harvest, winemaking tradition of the winemakers, choices of the producer, history of the cellar and so on…

Territorial characteristics. Here is the set the values we are looking for.

It is a term that is often willingly and indiscriminately abused. However, if it is brought back to its most authentic meaning it maintains its irreducible value. Because, in the end, this is what it is. What we want to taste in a wine is its genuineness, its belonging to a culture, to an expressive profile that makes a wine unmistakable. That which the wine maker, in his constant search for quality, pursues every day. Here lies real greatness, beyond prizes, beyond fashion. Here lies the real satisfaction that each of us gets from tasting a good bottle of wine.

As Sandro Sangiorgi, a refined critic and great communicator, wrote more than 20 years ago, “in an era in which the prevailing tendency is to standardize and order everything in reassuring hierarchies, wine appears by its very nature to escape, to rebel against this classification logic.”

Holy words. Today more than ever.