Maria Cristina De Simone Avallone: Freedom, Certainty & Roses
When I first walked the vineyards of Villa Matilde last April, the landscape felt like a kind of paradise: green, still, and precise. Only later, sitting down with Maria Cristina De Simone Avallone, did I understand how much of that stillness was earned. She grew up here, among the vines of the ancient Ager Falernus, surrounded by women who taught her that grapes are never just grapes. To meet her is to meet someone who knows both the pull of inheritance and the discipline of making it her own. The Winery Villa Matilde Avallone lies in Cellole, in the province of Caserta, held between the Tyrrhenian coast and the quiet slopes of the extinct Roccamonfina volcano. This is the heart of the Ager Falernus, home to Falerno, the wine Pliny, Virgil, and Horace once praised and the world later believed lost to phylloxera. In the 1960s, a Neapolitan lawyer named Francesco Paolo Avallone refused to accept that loss. From a handful of surviving biotypes of Falanghina, Aglianico, and Piedirosso, he rebuilt not just a wine, but a place. He named the estate for his wife, Matilde. Today the family tends three Campanian landscapes: Maria Cristina, daughter of Maria Ida Avallone, now leads as head winemaker and head of production. She is the third generation to shape that vision, and she brings to it her own sense of style and precision. For the wider landscape of my spring visit during Campania Stories, see my earlier piece: [link] A Calling Heard at Night Her story with the estate began almost at once. Maria Cristina arrived at Villa Matilde when she was ten days old. Her mother and grandparents carried her early into the cellar, the vineyard, and the restaurant. What stayed with her was never a lesson in grape varieties. It was her mother’s way of telling the story: not just Falanghina, but the people behind it. As a girl, she dreamed of becoming a veterinary surgeon. She was drawn to animals and to the idea of rescuing them in southern Italy. Then, somewhere between nineteen and twenty-one, she found herself torn between winemaking and law. Her mother sensed the hesitation. She did not argue. She simply invited her daughter to a night harvest at Sessa Aurunca. In the darkness among the vines, the answer became clear. The tenderness she once felt for animals never left her. It found another living subject. Wine, she told me, is like an animal. It changes. It asks to be understood over time. She describes Villa Matilde as an Italian love story. It belongs as much to her grandmother as to her grandfather, a man who understood the importance of the women around him. The Piano in the Cellar Nowhere is that love story more present than in the cellar itself. When I asked which object from her childhood still speaks to her, Maria Cristina did not hesitate. She named the piano that stands there among the barrels. It belonged to her grandmother, a professional pianist from Genoa who set aside her career to support the family and the winery. For Maria Cristina, the piano is a reminder of presence. It is also a quiet instruction to keep going and not look back. Her own days hold to a simple rhythm. She has coffee with her mother, who lives just across the way. She walks with her dog, Yuma. She reads, to step away from the pressure that builds as harvest nears. And at sunset over the vineyards, she feels grounded and grateful. It is the same view that struck me in April, and I understood then why it holds her. Freedom, Yellow, Rose When I asked her to describe her wines in three words, Maria Cristina did not reach for technical language. She answered with her life. Freedom. She had to fight to be taken seriously as a woman, and she believes everyone should be allowed to be themselves. Yellow. The happiness of sun on skin, the feeling she wants a glass to give. Rose. The women of her life: her mother, aunts, sister, cousins, grandmother. Beauty and strength together. Petals, and thorns. It struck me that she could have been describing herself. For her, wine is closer to jazz than to a fixed score. She comes from contemporary dance and knows how a melody can shift beneath you. Each person, she insists, will hear the bottle in their own way. That openness is not a weakness. It is the wine’s heart, and perhaps hers too. Her imagined dinner table carries the same spirit. She would invite three women: the painter Artemisia Gentileschi, Matilda, and her grandmother. She would ask them whether they would be proud of the freedom women have reached by 2026. For Gentileschi, she would pour an Aurunca wine alongside vegetable soup, for strength and personality in the glass. For her grandmother, a white Falerno with potatoes, the comfort of a traditional Neapolitan table. Still the Work to Be Done That question of freedom is not only a dinner-party thought. Campania has changed, and leadership is no longer out of reach for women. Yet the old reflex lingers. In her own cellar, Maria Cristina told me, male employees sometimes still turn to her male colleagues first. A generation earlier, her mother met the same skepticism selling wine at twenty. The industry is moving forward, but the work is not finished. What still needs to be won is true respect as a leader, not merely as a symbol. Her advice to women entering wine is practical and unsparing. Be proud of who you are. Study. Work with your hands. Smell. Taste widely. Keep an open mind, and keep talking to people. Isolation, she made clear, is not a strategy. What Harvest Asks Her eyes are already on what comes next. She wants to keep exploring Falanghina, a grape that changes its face from one Campanian hillside to the next. When we spoke, she was also weighing the closure. Traditional cork still holds a certain romance
Filomena Iacobucci: Powerful, Magic and Dream
The hills of Guardia Sanframondi hold a particular kind of quiet — the scent of earth mixed with a spark of possibility. When I met Filomena Iacobucci at Terre Stregate, I noticed immediately how she leads with both the patience of nature and a quietly determined imagination. In the hills of Guardia Sanframondi, at the heart of Sannio Beneventano, she moves with ease between the vineyard’s daily rhythms and a broader vision shaped by her time away. Her voice carries both roots and reach, steady and quietly powerful. The Winery and the Land of the Bewitched Terre Stregate, meaning ‘bewitched lands,’ rests among the gentle hills of Guardia Sanframondi, with views stretching over the Telesina Valley and the Calore River. The Matese massif stands quietly in the distance. The name calls up old stories of witches gathering beneath walnut trees, legends that still seem to linger in the air. The Iacobucci family has tended this land since 1898, beginning with Filippo Iacobucci. For a time, wine gave way to the olive mill, but in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Armando Iacobucci brought the winery back to life. Now, Filomena and her brother Carlo guide the estate. About 25 hectares are under vine, with Falanghina at the heart, joined by Greco, Fiano, and Aglianico, all rooted in clay-limestone soils at 400 to 450 meters. Just a short walk away, the olive mill lets visitors taste the land’s full spectrum, from grape to oil. Under Filomena and Carlo, the cellar, gardens, and tasting spaces reflect a place where tradition and thoughtful modernity meet. A Wine of Bright Positivity Here, with Filomena, I tasted the Svelato Falanghina del Sannio DOP 2024 for the second time this year, the first being at VinItaly this past April. The wine was as always bright and precise, alive with energy. Its freshness seemed to echo the clarity and confidence Filomena brings to her work. There is a kind of openness in both the wine and the woman behind it—a way of meeting complexity with light rather than weight. A Journey of Distance and Return That brightness, I realized, did not come easily. Filomena once dreamed of studying international relations, drawn to the ways farmers connect with the wider world. She left for university in Rome, hesitant at first to step away from the family winery. Distance changed her perspective. Seeing the estate from afar, she began to imagine new possibilities for Falanghina and for honoring tradition while building something modern and outward-looking. When she returned, she brought a deeper respect for the land’s timing and a quiet determination to help the project grow without losing its soul. Nature became her guide. The vineyard, unlike the city, asks for patience and the willingness to wait and respond. That blend of vision and daily patience shapes her leadership. Respect for Time and the Act of Pruning If there is one object that captures Filomena’s approach, it is the pruning shears. For her, pruning is the most important time of year—a practice that honors time, patience, and the careful decisions that shape the vineyard’s future. It is both practical and thoughtful: looking ahead while staying close to what the vines need right now. She speaks of a modern management style built on study and sensitivity. In her view, an entrepreneur is someone who sees what others might miss. Respect for nature is essential, but control is never absolute. That balance of vision and humility is at the heart of her leadership, a quiet strength that need not be declared. Sensory Memory and Daily Grounding For Filomena, happiness is woven into the sensory life of the land and its traditions: the scent of fresh bread from the bakery, the first taste of seasonal fruit, the olive harvest that arrives each November. Living in step with these rhythms, she believes, is at the heart of a good life. The oil mill’s closeness to the winery lets visitors experience that connection for themselves. When challenges come, she turns to music and the simple act of letting go. Together, softness and energy help her recover and return to her work with an open mind. In this way, resilience is not just an idea but a daily practice: feeling fully, releasing what needs to be released, and coming back to the work without losing either gentleness or strength. Imagination for the Next Generation She pays close attention to the pressures facing young people, especially her own daughters. For her, protecting dreams and imagination is essential, especially in a world that often feels rushed or demanding. Leadership, she believes, begins with the freedom to think for oneself. In summer, her children’s days are filled with outdoor play, rest, and the gift of unscheduled time. She sees this freedom as a way to help them grow into their own leadership. Her advice to the next generation is simple: be determined, trust your vision, and do not simply follow the crowd. Independent thinking and holding onto your own personality matter. She finds inspiration in Campania’s historical women, like the physician Trotula and the writer Matilde Serao, who connect past strength with future possibility. Their stories remind her that women have always shaped the life of this region, and that resilience is part of that legacy. Labels, Symbols, and the Essence of the the labels at Terre Stregate are meant to spark imagination. Symbols like the eye and the moon appear—the moon guiding through the night, the eye inviting us to see our place in nature, connecting what came before with what is still to come. When I asked Filomena to describe her work in three words, she chose ‘powerful,’ ‘magic,’ and ‘dream.’ The words fit. They hold both the strength needed to lead and the sense of wonder that keeps the work alive, shaping how she shares her vision, her leadership. Legacy Without Obligation Looking to the future, she hopes to share the winery’s story and passion with her children, but never to force them onto
Cristina Varchetta: Landscape, Silence and Continuity
Some encounters immediately feel like a homecoming. Speaking with Cristina Varchetta of Cantine Astroni, I was struck by her sense of place and genuine hospitality, and by how naturally our perspectives aligned: a love of independent travel, the joy of learning new languages, and the determination to shape a career around meaningful connections rather than rigid traditions. With Cristina, the Campi Flegrei became less an imposing volcanic backdrop and more an open invitation—to listen, to belong, and to return transformed. Our conversation moved easily between the practical work of the winery and the deeper emotional currents that sustain it, showing how closely the two are linked. The Winery Cantine Astroni sits on the outer slopes of the Astroni crater, between Naples and Pozzuoli, in the heart of the Campi Flegrei. Once a Bourbon hunting reserve, the area is now a WWF nature oasis. The Varchetta family has been connected to wine here for more than a century, beginning in 1891 with great-grandfather Vincenzo. The modern project took shape in the late 1990s. It was formalized around the birth of the Campi Flegrei DOC, transforming a family farm and holiday retreat into a focused boutique winery. Today the emphasis is on single-vineyard expression—an approach Cristina likens to the cru system of Burgundy—working primarily with ungrafted Falanghina and Piedirosso on sandy volcanic soils. Cousin Gerardo Vernazzaro is the winemaker. Hospitality is central to the place. Guests are invited not only to taste, but to understand the land through the stories that have shaped it. A Wine of Quiet Intensity My favorite wine from the estate was the Piedirosso. In its mineral depth, red-fruit lift, and volcanic tension, I felt the same quiet intensity that runs through Cristina’s way of speaking about this land. It does not shout. It holds its ground with elegance and a sense of place that lingers long after the glass is empty—much like the conversations that unfold around the table at Astroni. In that glass I tasted the resilience of the Campi Flegrei and the care with which this family interprets it. A Journey of Leaving and Returning As a child, Cristina did not dream of a specific profession. She dreamed of seeing the world. Languages, different cultures, and distant places fascinated her. She never imagined that wine would become the way she could travel while still carrying home with her wherever she went. She began in accounting, then made a deliberate shift toward the family winery. Seeking deeper technical knowledge and a different work rhythm, she studied with the Italian Sommelier Association (AIS) and the Wine & Spirit Education Trust (WSET). Today her role centers on hospitality, communication, and export, work that satisfies her love of travel and independent movement while keeping her rooted in the Campi Flegrei. Her advice to her younger self is simple and hard-earned: do not be afraid of leaving, of studying, of making mistakes. Only by going away did she truly learn to appreciate her roots. That experience of departure and return shapes everything she does. She carries that lesson into her work with guests and into the way she speaks about the next generation. Hospitality as Inheritance More than any object, Cristina carries the memory of her grandparents’ hands—strong from years of work, yet incredibly gentle when they held a bunch of grapes. They taught her that respect always comes before technique. Today, when she welcomes guests, she tries to offer the same care they showed the land and the people around them. That, she says, is her most valuable inheritance. For her, the table remains the true center. Growing up, it was where her family shared stories, laughed, celebrated, and found comfort after difficult days. Wine is not the protagonist of the table; it is simply a way to create connection. What she hopes every guest takes home is not only the memory of a tasting, but the feeling of belonging—of having been part of something larger than a single bottle. Landscape, Silence, and Continuity When she stands alone in the vineyard at sunset, it is the silence that connects her most deeply to the women who came before her. In that slowing of the day, she feels as if the land still holds their voices. It reminds her that she does not own this place—she is simply passing through, with the responsibility of leaving it a little better than she found it. That sense of temporary stewardship runs through her approach to both the vines and the people who visit them. If her life in wine were a piece of music, it would be a melody that starts softly and grows with time. She would be a cello: an instrument that does not need to be the loudest in the orchestra to touch people’s hearts. Like the best wines of the Campi Flegrei, the most beautiful music does not rush. It matures, layer after layer, revealing more the longer one listens. Joy as Creative Fuel Even amid the seriousness of the wine world, Cristina protects small, unserious pleasures. One of them is dancing in her kitchen while cooking, even when she is completely alone. Those are the moments when she stops overthinking and enjoys life. Creativity, she believes, often comes from joy, and joy is usually found in the simplest moments. It is a reminder that hospitality and storytelling require not only discipline, but also lightness. What She Would Bottle If she could bottle one fleeting emotion from her journey and share it with younger women entering the industry, she would label it “Coming Home.” Leaving is important, she says, but coming back with new eyes is even more meaningful. She hopes every young woman understands that she never has to choose between her dreams and her roots. She can carry both, and in doing so, turn them into strength. What Remains What surprised Cristina most about stepping into the world of wine in Campania was discovering that it is first and foremost about people. A bottle may
Ilaria Petitto: Courage, Identity, and Quiet Strength
Every so often, a conversation opens a window into another person’s world. Meeting Ilaria Petitto of Donnachiara in early August, I was immediately struck by her clarity and the quiet strength guiding her choices. She traded a conventional career in law for the uncertainty of wine, embracing the courage needed to define her own identity in a world that too often clings to familiar expectations. For Ilaria, authenticity is not just an ideal—it’s a source of power. Our conversation felt less like an interview and more like a recognition of a shared commitment to authenticity. The Winery Donnachiara sits in Montefalcione, in the heart of Irpinia, at roughly 400 meters above sea level among clay and fractured rock soils. The modern winery was established in 2005 by the Petitto family and named in tribute to Ilaria’s great-grandmother, Donna Chiara Mazzarelli Petitto—a woman who cared for the family’s vineyards through both world wars with the same attention one might give a child. The family’s roots in the land stretch back generations; for many years they grew grapes that were sold to others. In 2005 that changed. The project became a full expression of place, focused on Irpinia’s three DOCGs—Fiano di Avellino, Greco di Tufo, and Taurasi—as well as Aglianico and Falanghina. Ilaria now leads the estate as CEO, working with a predominantly female team and the guidance of consulting oenologist Riccardo Cotarella. Together, they pursue a clear philosophy: elegant wines that are never banal and that need time to reveal themselves. For a fuller immersion in the tasting, the verticals, and the atmosphere of my visit during Campania Stories, see my earlier piece: https://thehappyvine.net/campania-stories-giorno-0-1-campi-flegrei-irpinia/ A Wine That Silenced Me During my visit to the estate, one wine in particular moved me into another realm of emotion: the 2007 Fiano di Avellino. It began with the fresh pear and white florals of youth, then opened slowly into chamomile, honey, petrol, dried herbs, and a smoky complexity that only time can give. The older Esoterica vintages carried extraordinary tension and depth, proving just how beautifully Fiano can evolve. That bottle did not simply impress me—it quieted me. In its layered evolution, I felt the patience and integrity that define Ilaria’s approach to the wines and the life she has chosen. A Journey from Law to the Land That patience was hard-earned. Ilaria did not plan to return to Avellino. She studied law and prepared for the notary exams, a path chosen in part to please her father. After years of study and a life oriented toward a different future, she realized it was not her dream. When her mother Chiara began the winery project, Ilaria eventually decided to leave the legal path behind and join the family endeavor. In the years that followed, she took the reins more fully, bringing both the clarity of legal training and a deep attachment to the land. The transition required courage. In a traditionally male-dominated industry, she learned quickly that assumptions about what a woman “understands” about the business can be persistent. Her advice to young women entering wine is straightforward and hard-won: remain courageous, prioritize your own identity, and do not allow yourself to be intimidated by external judgment. Authenticity, she insists, must come before the need to please or to fit existing expectations. This is where our shared experience became most evident: the decision to walk away from a carefully constructed professional path in favor of something more true, even when the outcome was uncertain. Landscape, Balance, and Daily Grounding For Ilaria, the Campania landscape—particularly Irpinia—is an authentic, still somewhat hidden treasure. It offers a deep emotional resonance and a sense of tranquility that feels increasingly rare in more commercialized wine regions. That connection is not abstract; it is the place that steadies her and grounds the work that follows. The demands of running a winery are constant. To stay grounded, Ilaria makes time for regular workouts and for nature. She spoke openly about how physical changes, including menopause, can heighten anxiety and stress, making those practices of movement and time outdoors essential rather than optional. Imagination and commitment must be protected; balance is part of the work itself. There is a quiet resilience in the way she describes these daily choices—an understanding that strength is not only about pushing forward but also about knowing how to restore oneself to continue. Defining the Winery—and a Wider Responsibility When asked to characterize Donnachiara, Ilaria returned to three themes: the power of a supportive, predominantly female team; the freedom to express herself and learn from mistakes; and the goal of creating a lasting legacy that transcends generations. That sense of responsibility extends beyond the estate. She is clear that promoting the entire region, rather than only one’s own winery, is essential for success in international markets. She has found consumers in places like the United States often more curious and open-minded than those at home. At the same time, she remains deeply committed to Irpinia’s reds—particularly Taurasi and Aglianico, which she refers to with affection and determination as “The Tori.” While white wines may currently be easier to sell and more aligned with trends, she is dedicated to earning lasting respect for the region’s red wines, which have long suffered from historical misconceptions. She is frank about the challenges of intense local competition. Producers, she believes, must learn to collaborate more effectively if the region is to present a coherent and compelling face to the outside world. Her hope rests with the next generation, which she believes may foster a more cooperative spirit. That belief in collective progress, rather than isolated success, felt especially resonant. The Women at the Table When I asked Ilaria which three women she would invite to a meal, her choices revealed a great deal about her values. She named her mother’s grandmother—the original Donna Chiara whose strength and care for the land still echo through the winery’s name. She chose the actor Sophia Loren, in part to discuss the regional inferiority
Gilda Martusciello: The Woman Who Holds Her Ground
Some conversations stay with you, like the smell of wet earth after rain, sulfur in the air, or the comfort of morning coffee. My recent talk with Gilda Martusciello was like that. We spoke in early August, just after a 4.7-magnitude earthquake struck Campi Flegrei and the surrounding areas Portici and Pozzuoli. There was damage to homes, stress on infrastructure, and protests. Even so, Gilda spoke with calm and steadiness. The winery was safe, her family and friends were fine, and the Asprinio sparkling harvest would still start at the end of the month. That calmness came through in everything she said. That steadiness is central to both Gilda and Salvatore Martusciello wines. I could talk to her for hours—she inspires with her determination and courage. Gilda is modern but respects tradition. She enjoys cooking and caring for her herbs, and she also takes an active role in women-in-wine groups, helping shape the future of the industry with quiet strength. The Winery In 2015, Gilda Guida and her husband Salvatore Martusciello started a small, focused project called Salvatore Martusciello in the heart of Campi Flegrei. Building on the family’s work with local Campanian grape varieties and the creation of important DOCs, they focus on wines that reflect the identity of Campi Flegrei, Agro Aversano, and Penisola Sorrentina. These include Asprinio from the historic alberata system, Falanghina and Piedirosso on their own roots, and the Ottouve blends from Gragnano and Lettere. Their philosophy is simple: Vini di persistenza, or wines of persistence. For a fuller immersion in the winery, the vineyards, and the tasting experience during Campania Stories, see my earlier piece: Campania Stories Day 1 A Wine That Rooted Me to the Spot During my visit, one wine truly caught my attention: the Falanghina dei Campi Flegrei “Settevulcani” 2018. Its mineral depth, salinity, and quiet intensity reminded me of Gilda herself—her strength, determination, and deep love for this land. This wine did not try to impress with boldness or drama. Instead, it stood firm like Gilda. That bottle remains one of the most memorable experiences of my trip, a true reflection of persistence and place. A Woman Shaping the Future of Campanian and Italian Wine Gilda has been a member of Le Donne del Vino since 2004 and today serves as the regional Delegate for Campania, a role she assumed after years of progressive responsibility as former Campanian vice-delegate, National Counselor, and member of the Commission for International Relations. The association, founded in 1988 in Campania itself, has grown into the largest organization of its kind in the world, uniting more than 1,200 women across Italy who work to promote wine culture and elevate the visibility and leadership of women throughout the supply chain. Gilda’s long involvement gives her a unique perspective on how women’s roles have changed. She has seen the association grow from a small group of pioneers, including her mother-in-law Elena Martusciello, a former national president, into a structured network that builds skills, encourages international partnerships, and supports the next generation through projects like D-Vino. In Campania, which has one of the highest percentages of women-led or women-influenced wineries in Italy, her work turns individual stories into collective strength. She also holds important roles in the region, serving as Vice-President of Vitica, the Consorzio Viticoltori del Casertano, and as Counselor of the Consorzio Penisola Sorrentina DOP. In these positions, she encourages collaboration instead of working alone, urging producers to promote the region’s biodiversity, authentic lower-alcohol wines, and unique training systems like the alberata as shared strengths. “Previous generations found cooperation difficult,” she told me. Today, working together is both necessary and possible. Through these roles, Gilda helps drive a bigger change: women in Campania and across Italy now lead in strategy, education, sustainability, and storytelling. A Journey Written in Precision and Belonging Her own journey reflects that quiet change. Gilda did not plan to make wine. As a child, she wanted to be a cardiac surgeon, a goal that required the same precision she later used in the vineyard and cellar. She earned a degree in Economics from Università Parthenope and a master’s in international business. In 1998, she joined Grotta del Sole. What started as a job soon became full immersion. “It was not only a job,” she said about those early years, “but an abrupt entry into a new world.” Salvatore and his family, pioneers in protecting Campania’s native grapes, introduced her to a world of soil, patience, and intuition. She married Salvatore in 2005, and in 2015 they started their own small project so their experiences could finally have a voice. She sees tradition clearly. For her, honoring history does not mean staying the same. “Find a personal interpretation,” she suggests. Bring your own style into the historical framework so the winery stays alive. This is the quiet change she lives every day: staying true without rigidity. Sensory Grounding and the Women Who Shape Her When I asked Gilda about her favorite place in Campania, she answered with a memory of scents: sulfur, wet soil, and sea air. This unique smell of the Phlegraean landscape takes her back to childhood and her late mother. These memories keep her grounded. They are her private guide as she moves through harvest, meetings, and leadership roles. Her daily routine is simple and intentional: first coffee, tending to her herbs, and a quiet moment before the day begins. To the next generation, including her daughter, she offers clear advice: keep learning, build a good reputation, and stay true to yourself. She believes these are the qualities that last. Three women inspire her, each showing a different kind of strength, continuity, and identity. The first is her mother, who taught her to cook and whose presence lives on in Gilda’s daily routines: making morning coffee and tending to aromatic herbs as the seasons change. These small, repeated actions are more than habits. They connect her to the woman who first showed her that care, precision, and love can be
Campania Stories: Giorno 3-Coastal Fire, Ancient Wines & the Soul of Falerno
Giorno 3 — Caserta Villa Matilde Avallone • Fattoria Pagano By Day 3, Campania no longer felt like a region. It felt like a living conversation. Every subregion carried its own rhythm, its own accent, its own emotional temperature. After the mountain tension of Irpinia and the rustic soul of Sannio, the road led us toward Caserta — where volcanic soils meet sea air, where Falerno still echoes through history, and where hospitality arrives as naturally as wine at the table. The morning returned us to the pulse of Vega Palace for another day of focused tastings and exchange, this time centered around reds with a scattering of rosé. But it was the late afternoon that stayed with me most. Golden light. Warm air. Cellars beginning to quiet as evening approached. And producers leaning across the table to explain not just a wine, but a decision, a vintage, a piece of family history. Falerno del Massico: The Ancient Voice of Campania Long before Barolo, Brunello or Super Tuscans existed, there was Falerno. The legendary wine of ancient Rome. The wine of Caesar and Cleopatra. Produced along the volcanic slopes surrounding Monte Massico near the Tyrrhenian coast, Falerno del Massico remains one of Campania’s most historic appellations. But unlike the elevated freshness of Irpinia or the earthy rusticity of Sannio, the wines here carry something broader and warmer. Sun-warmed fruit. Salty minerality. Mediterranean herbs. Volcanic depth softened by sea breezes. The climate here changes everything. Warm coastal air ripens the fruit generously, while cold winds descending from the Apennines preserve freshness and tension. Combined with volcanic soils, the result is wines that feel simultaneously rich and lifted — structured yet deeply convivial. This was the world of Villa Matilde Avallone. Villa Matilde Avallone: Reviving the Wine of the Romans Villa Matilde is not simply a winery. It is an act of resurrection. Founded by Francesco Paolo Avallone, the estate spent over a decade researching and reviving the ancient terroir and varieties connected to Falerno del Massico. What began as a passion project eventually became one of Campania’s most important modern estates. Today the winery is guided by siblings Salvatore and Maria Avallone, continuing their father’s vision with deep emotional attachment to the land. And that emotion is impossible to miss. At one point during the tasting, Salvatore smiled and said: “We, the people from Campania, are completely crazy. We live our land. We want to communicate our passion through the wine.” And honestly, that sentence captured the entire visit. Emotion. People. Land. Everything here revolves around that connection. The tasting began with Falanghina. The 2024 carried fresh citrus, apple, pear and saline minerality — bright and coastal in feel. Then came the Mata 2015 Falanghina, and suddenly the conversation shifted entirely. Ten years old and completely alive. Ripe peach. Biscuit. Dough. Dried florals. A wine proving once again how beautifully Campanian whites evolve with time. Salvatore compared the grapes almost like iconic Italian women. The 2025 Fiano di Avellino? “Audrey Hepburn.” Elegant. Refined. Silky. The Greco? “Sophia Loren.” More character. More presence. A touch of rustic edge. And honestly, he was right. The Contrada 127 Greco 2022 — produced with amphora, as the estate has done since the 1960s — carried remarkable grip and minerality, like “a hand on your shoulder,” balancing freshness with texture and serious aging potential. Then came Carracci. And this is where Villa Matilde truly revealed its soul. The 2020 Carracci Falerno del Massico single vineyard unfolded through honeyed dried stone fruit, herbs, salinity and lemon curd wrapped around subtle tannic grip. The 2008 broadened even further into caramel, dried grapefruit and toasted nuts while still retaining freshness. These wines felt ancient somehow. Meditative. Completely tied to place. The reds carried the warmth of the coast but never lost their freshness. The 2025 Roccamonfina Piedirosso was pure glou-glou energy — crunchy red fruit, bright acidity and white pepper spice. The 2020 Falerno del Massico Rosso — 80% Aglianico, 20% Piedirosso — felt closest to Salvatore’s heart. He described it as the wine that “communicates the voice of the land.” And it did exactly that. Savory. Volcanic. Layered with spice and lifted fruit. The Taurasi wines brought more structure and smoke, while Cecubo 2018 — blending Primitivo, Aglianico and Piedirosso — moved into darker, richer territory without losing Campania’s signature freshness. What struck me most was how clearly Caserta differentiated itself from the previous days. The wines here carried sunlight inside them. Fattoria Pagano: Drink the Terroir As evening deepened, we continued toward Fattoria Pagano. And suddenly everything became even more intimate. Founded in 2001 by Antonio Pagano, the organic estate stretches across roughly 24 hectares, with vineyards both in Falerno del Massico and Irpinia. The philosophy here is simple: “Drink the terroir.” Nothing polished for international style. Nothing overworked. Just wines tied honestly to volcanic soils, hand harvesting and the rhythm of Campanian hospitality. Antonio and Angelo welcomed us alongside tables already filling with local dishes and buffalo mozzarella made by Antonio’s uncle — firmer in texture than most mozzarella di bufala, originating from nearby Casedici. And once again, the food and wines became inseparable. The evening began with a 120-day Charmat sparkling blend of Greco and Falanghina — biscuit notes, fine bubbles and remarkable freshness. The labels themselves carried stories too, decorated with musical instruments representing the musicians who once gathered here. Even the rosé held personal meaning, dedicated to Antonio’s mother Rosa: 40% Aglianico, 40% Piedirosso and 20% Merlot carrying bright fruit and unmistakable volcanic minerality. The whites leaned generous yet precise. The Falanghina 2025 shimmered with bright minerality, while the late-harvest Falanghina carried rounder floral concentration. The Greco 2025 moved beautifully from tropical softness into rising minerality, while the Fabula Falerno del Massico Bianca 2025 showed serious elegance and structure. Then came the reds. The Piedirosso 2023 carried smoky violets, savory earth and elegant ripeness. The Aglianico bottlings balanced fruit intensity with remarkably soft tannins. But the standout was Gaurasi Falerno del Massico
Campania Stories: Initial Sips — Campi Flegrei & Irpinia
Campania Stories: Volcanic Soul, Mountain Tension & the Wines That Refuse to Be Forgotten Giorno 0 to 1— Campi Flegrei & Irpinia Salvatore Martusciello • Tenuta Cavalier Pepe • Donnachiara Campania does not ease you in gently. It grabs hold of your senses immediately — volcanic smoke in the air, salty Mediterranean breezes, mountain tension in the wines and conversations that stretch long past the final glass. This is not a region of quiet wines. Or quiet people. Campania Stories began the moment the plane touched down in Naples, where Salvatore and Gilda welcomed us not with formality, but with the warmth that instantly turns travel into something personal. Within moments, we were standing at the Solfatara crater in Campi Flegrei, surrounded by black volcanic earth and steam rising from the ground beneath our feet. And suddenly, everything made sense. This is where the wines begin. Not in the cellar. Not in the glass. But in the tension between volcano and sea. Salvatore Martusciello: Wines With Salt in Their Veins At the Salvatore Martusciello winery in Pozzuoli, the family’s role in shaping Campi Flegrei became immediately clear. Salvatore’s father helped establish the DOC in the 1990s, while his uncle Genaro identified Falanghina clones and created what remains one of the region’s defining viticultural references. The vineyards themselves feel wild and alive — ancient Alberata pergolas climbing skyward, wild chamomile lining the rows and some vines still untouched by phylloxera. And you can taste that energy in every glass. The wines moved between electric freshness and volcanic depth: Asprinio bursting with citrus and razor acidity; Falanghina layered with crushed stone, salinity and smoky aged complexity; Piedirosso vibrant with red fruit and coastal freshness. Then came OttoUvo Frizzante Gragnano — fizzy, joyful and unapologetically Neapolitan. “The most beloved iconic wine of the Neapolitan people,” Salvatore called it with a smile. At one point, I asked him what his favorite vintage was. “The next one.” That answer captured the spirit of Campania perfectly. No chasing trends. No imitation. Just wines deeply rooted in place and identity. Dinner among the tanks with Gilda’s homemade timbalo di Nerano, the buffalo mozzarella alongside the estate’s rustic cuisine, grounding the wines even further into place and tradition, the warm sfogliatella transformed the tasting into something even more personal. The wines opened further around the table, revealing Campania not simply as a wine region, but as a way of living. Into the Mountains: Tenuta Cavalier Pepe The following morning, the landscape shifted dramatically as we climbed into Irpinia. More altitude. More silence. More tension. Tenuta Cavalier Pepe unfolded across steep hillsides where cool nights preserve freshness and precision in every grape. Walking the vineyards with Milena Pepe, it became clear that everything here is built around stewardship — hand harvesting, massale selection and allowing the land itself to shape the wines. Milena structured the tasting vertically, revealing how beautifully Irpinia’s wines evolve with time. The Fiano di Avellino wines moved from fresh acacia and citrus into layers of roasted nuts, petrol, honey and salted depth with age. The older vintages carried remarkable energy and proved exactly why Fiano deserves to stand among Italy’s greatest white wines. The Greco di Tufo Riserva wines showed a sharper, more volcanic personality — smoky, savory and intensely mineral. Then came Taurasi. Young vintages carried vivid cherry and chalky tannins, while older bottles unfolded into leather, dried herbs, licorice and savory complexity. The 2011 La Loggia di Cavaliere Taurasi Riserva lingered long after the final sip — dried cherry, violets, leather and fine tannins stretched endlessly across the palate. Hauntingly beautiful. Throughout the tasting, one thing remained constant: Minerality and sapidity slicing through the wines, making you crave food immediately. These are wines built for long lunches, slow conversations and crowded tables. Turn the Page: Donnachiara Irpinia has a way of slowing you down. After the volcanic intensity of Campi Flegrei, arriving at Donnachiara in Montefalcione felt quieter, more introspective somehow. Perched at 400 metres above sea level, surrounded by chunky clay and fractured rock soils, Donnachiara has become one of the defining modern voices of Irpinia through organic farming, native varieties and wines rooted deeply in place. Named after Ilaria Petitto’s great-grandmother, the winery feels deeply personal from the moment you arrive. Ilaria describes her wines simply: “Elegant. Not banal. Wines that need time to show themselves.” That philosophy is everywhere here. Nothing is loud. Nothing is rushed. The wines unfold slowly and confidently, much like Irpinia itself. Alongside winemaker Marco Giulioli, Donnachiara vinifies entirely in stainless steel, allowing the purity of the terroir to remain untouched. The Fiano wines were mesmerizing — moving from fresh pear and white florals in youth into chamomile, honey, petrol, dried herbs and smoky complexity with age. The older Esoterica vintages carried extraordinary tension and depth, proving just how beautifully Fiano can evolve over time. The Greco wines leaned more volcanic and structured, layering smoke, spice, dried herbs and electric acidity into wines that demanded attention rather than easy charm. Then came Taurasi — elegant rather than overpowering, focused on finesse and purity of fruit rather than sheer weight. The older vintages unfolded into leather, balsamic herbs and lifted savory complexity, while the 2006 stood out for its remarkable elegance and freshness. What stayed with me most after this first day of Campania Stories was not simply the quality of the wines. It was the connection between landscape, people and glass. From the volcanic soul of Campi Flegrei to the mountain tension of Irpinia, every wine carried the unmistakable fingerprint of Campania itself. The afternoon shifted gears to the Reggia di Caserta: marble corridors, gardens unfolding like a map of the region, then the Sala Romanelli filling with voices at the opening conference. Over a light dinner curated by the Consorzio VITICA, introductions deepened into plans — collaborations forming as easily as smiles. And this was only Giorno 0-1! Day 2 would take us even deeper into the soul of southern Italy.