The first time I sensed the social function of wine was at the end of high school when a group of us would gather around a bottle of Fetească Regală from Ștefănești Argeș. And around that time, I also realized that the state induced by wine was preferable to that caused by beer or spirits. It was the ’90s, a time of chaos and great freedom, inflation, mineral water was still sold in glass bottles, and spritz was made rarely, mostly at home, and seen as a sign of old age. We, however, enjoyed wine. In the Cișmigiu garden, at „Cetate”, the fortification ruins, at the boat dock in Piața Operei (Opera Plaza), on the steps of Sala Palatului (downtown concert hall in Bucharest), in the passageway at the Universitaty, and rarely, very rarely, on terraces or in restaurants. It was a time without mobile phones, when we called each other from public telephones, knew hundreds of phone numbers by heart, traveled by unheated buses and trams, but people smiled more.
A bit later, as a journalist, I met a few gentlemen who explained to me that “wine is spoken.” It is shared and is deeply connected to food and the anthropological significance of the act of feeding someone. After some time spent learning, I would laugh when I saw the „cardboard” millionaires of the transition period displaying their dusty wine bottles “from their birth year” in wicker baskets at room temperature, in the corner of their offices. I use quotation marks because it was common practice to type new labels on a typewriter, stick them on (legitimately) dusty bottles, and stamp the desired vintage year on them because "that’s how collection bottles were supposed to look." It was an exploitation of the era’s snobbery, a fraud, but also a revelation of the general lack of knowledge about wine.
Wine, blues, love. Right?
And around that time, I had the chance to attend a tasting – something quite rare back then – hosted by a small-statured but warm-hearted man from Vrancea. I doubt the wines were extraordinary; I don’t even remember exactly what I tasted, but it was a moment of epiphany. A veil was lifted from my eyes. I began to see into a parallel universe as the man explained how the aromas of the same grape variety changed depending on whether the year was warmer or colder, the effects of early or late harvesting, the specific aromas of different varieties, and so much more. And I knew then that I had fallen in love with this new universe, just as you fall in love with a woman who looks into your eyes in the morning and caresses you – calmly, tenderly, curiously, planning a long journey of discovery, step by step, towards the deepest intimacy.
And like in a Beth Hart song, the stars aligned: after a whispered, slightly menacing verse, we reached the chorus, the rhythm picked up, and the crescendo voice began to vibrate, announcing an explosion. In a market dominated by over 80% Cotnari, Jidvei, Murfatlar and Vincon, it was rare to find a few bottles of Fetească Neagră "sunflower" and "sunrise" from Halewood so nicknamed after their labels, or wines from SERVE.That was when I first tasted Sienna from Vinarte – a Merlot unlike anything I had tried before, some you probably may not even remember, as it was quickly replaced by Prince Mircea. That was also when Oprișor (Syrah magnum!), Davino, Cramele Recaș, Vinterra (oh, how many bottles of Black Peak delighted my taste buds!), followed by Domeniul Coroanei, Corcova, Rotenberg, Aurelia Vișinescu and many more, began to emerge. Wine fairs, festivals, and tastings multiplied. Year after year, month after month, there was always something new to enjoy, until I could no longer keep up with everything that happened.
What Have I Learned?
I have met people just as passionate as I am, including a handful of journalists with whom I started and grew various publications aimed at bringing wine closer to as many people as possible. I have met producers, oenologists, professors, and sommeliers – all servants of the same temple – and from every one of them, I have learned and I continue to learn about wine. Together with Vali Ceafalău, Cezar Ioan, the late Cosmin Zidurean, Loreta Budin, George Mitea, Ciprian Haret, Răzvan Avram, Răzvan Jurcă, we were tasting, learning and, some of us, writing daily about wine.
What have I understood so far? That there is no such thing as "the best wine," that you never encounter the same wine twice, even if the differences are subtle, and that the great art of wine knowledge is knowing how to choose the right wine, at the right time, in the right company, sometimes with the right food. I say “sometimes” because I love it enough to want to get to know each new wine “in private,” without other flavors interfering. I have also learned that every wine has its purpose – dry or sweet, full-bodied or light, sparkling (and what kind of sparkling) or still, variety by variety, year by year. That not all the wine made by good people is good wine, and not all the good wine is made by good people. That technology is advanced enough to sometimes deceive taste, and that this is occasionally a necessary compromise, instead of a “clean” but flawed wine. That “grandfather’s wine” is usually terrible, but the memories and feelings it can evoke, the people and events tied to those moments, are sometimes more important than what’s in the glass. And many, many other things.
Epilogue
Enough time has passed that the Fetească Regală from Ștefănești-Argeș only exists in the memories of a few and, perhaps, in some wine library, but the Internet is too young to preserve its image. However, I have one last detail to share about it. It was a perfect summer – not too hot, not too cold. I was alone, around 2 or 3 PM, sitting on a plastic chair (one that wouldn’t hold me today) on the terrace of a tin kiosk, with a bottle of wine that I had bought just for myself for the first time, savoring every sip. A friend appeared – I don’t even remember who. I asked the kiosk owner for another glass, poured him some, he sat down, we clinked glasses, and for a while, we sat in silence, looking at the sky, the greenery around us, the apartment buildings, the people walking to and from the market or work, those hanging laundry on their balconies or playing backgammon in front of their buildings. And in that tiny, round and perfect moment, everything was right.
Wines of Romania Note
That IAS (State Agricultural Enterprise) from Ștefănești had a complicated fate. The wine cellar was sold, a few viticulturists still remain in the area, but for the most part, it has disappeared. However, a handful of passionate individuals have given birth to Crama Marcea, an energy-independent, eco-friendly winery that produces good, terroir-driven wines with memorable vintages. Concerts and events are held there, and as much as they can, given that it is still a small winery, the owners contribute to reinforcing the idea that wine is deeply tied to culture and lifestyle.
"The Wine of My Youth" The Wine of Youth is a series of stories about the first wines that introduced us to this fascinating world – at the legal drinking age. Even if we no longer drink those wines today, or some no longer exist, they remain tied to some of the most captivating moments of our lives. After all, those years are, in many ways, the ones that shape us as individuals and define our values.
Even if we no longer drink those wines today, or some no longer exist, they remain tied to some of the most captivating moments of our lives. After all, those years are, in many ways, the ones that shape us as individuals and define our values.
At Wines of Romania, we aim to rediscover these wines – and the values they represent – through your stories, retracing the journeys we’ve taken from then to now, both as people and as wine lovers.
Each week, we publish your stories here and celebrate nostalgia with a bottle of wine gifted to the most authentic contributors. Send us your story about your first steps into the world of wine and the variety you fell in love with – if you convince us, we’ll send you a bottle of wine to properly celebrate this memory. Who knows, it might even be THAT wine.
We invite you to share your story with us at info@winesofromania.com.
