Rosé remains, without a doubt, the most photogenic wine — but its true charm begins beyond the image.

It is perhaps the most seductive through its versatility: the delicacy and finesse of a white wine, paired with a subtle structure, sometimes surprisingly athletic, reminiscent of reds. A perfect balance between lightness and character.

Spring is only just settling in. The air still carries a gentle chill, yet the light grows warmer, the days longer, and the mind drifts instinctively toward that first glass of rosé enjoyed in the sun.

It is more than a wine — it is a feeling you recognize before you define it.

Calabria. Between Sea, Light and Identity

After four years, I rediscovered Calabria — this time on the Ionian coast, near Cirò. Southern Italy has that rare ability to make you feel instantly at home, even when you are far away. Only the hypnotic shades of the Mediterranean remind you that you are, in fact, somewhere else.

Three days of competition. Three days of focus, refinement and discovery.

More than 55 international tasters from 20 countries evaluated over 1,100 rosé wines from 30 countries. A true snapshot of global trends and stylistic diversity.

For me, this edition also brought a premiere: serving as jury president. An honor and a responsibility I embraced with both joy and respect.

Styles, Identity and Terroir

One of the most fascinating aspects of such tastings is the moment you begin to recognize a wine — its country, sometimes even its region.

France remains the undeniable benchmark. Rosés with delicate, almost ethereal color, yet impeccable elegance and structure. Provence stands apart as a clear reference. Languedoc, Bordeaux or Corsica come close, though often with a slightly more rustic edge.

Italy made a strong impression this year, particularly Abruzzo, with two Grand Gold Medals. One of them — Talmonti Rosé 2025 — was, without exaggeration, one of the revelations of the competition.

And what made this experience even more meaningful for me is that two of the official revelations of the competition were evaluated within my own panel.

The second comes from Romania — Issa Pinot Noir Rosé 2025 — a wine that clearly confirms the direction and growing confidence of Romanian rosé on the international stage.

Romania entered 51 samples and achieved 17 medals — a 33% success rate.
More than a result, this is validation. A presence that can no longer be overlooked.

Rosé, Between Trend and Emotion

It is true — rosé is no longer riding the same consumption wave it enjoyed before the pandemic. Yet it retains its charm. And, more importantly, its relevance.

Because rosé is not just about trends. It is about moments. About light. About atmosphere. About that subtle feeling that summer begins just a little earlier — in a glass.

Competitions like the Concours Mondial de Bruxelles are not only about medals or rankings. They are about direction. About how tastes evolve, how identities take shape, and who dares to step outside the expected.

For me, rosé remains the beginning of every season.
And, each time, a promise.

Since 2014, when I first took part, this competition has been, for me, the definition of consistency. Almost ritual-like, year after year, we would meet in the same place: the hotel at Borsigturm, near Lake Tegel, in a part of Berlin that felt almost provincial—quiet, calm, far removed from the city’s intensity. It was more than just a location. It was a familiar rhythm, a routine, a family. The family remained. But in 2026, for the first time, the setting changed.

The move to Alexanderplatz felt like a subtle disruption to a long-standing tradition. From a nearly contemplative area, we suddenly found ourselves in the heart of the city, within walking distance of Berlin’s major landmarks. A larger hotel, a more generous tasting space, more movement, more energy. We gathered again, but on that first evening we missed the instinct of familiar places. It took time to recalibrate, to find our rhythm again—including one of the most cherished rituals: sharing the wines we each bring from home, among colleagues, friends, and, ultimately, this extended family that defines the BWT jury. Then the four days of judging began.

This year again, I served as team leader for one of the panels—a role I’m well acquainted with, yet one that consistently demands precision and discipline. Beyond the logistics—verifying samples, aligning bottles with the system, ensuring each wine is assessed—the role requires a constant exercise in objectivity. At Berliner Wine Trophy, preference is irrelevant; only quality matters. A wine must be evaluated for what it is, not for whether it aligns with personal taste. Even when it doesn’t.

The overall quality this year made that easier. Faults were notably rare—arguably the lowest I’ve encountered across editions. Each day, around 50 wines guided us through a diverse European landscape and beyond, offering a shared, focused tasting experience within the panel.

Across the four days, several wines stood out at Grand Gold level—wines of precision, balance and clear regional identity. Among them: a German Spätburgunder, a refined Grauburgunder–Weissburgunder blend, a 2019 Champagne, two Argentine Malbecs (2023 and 2017), a Chilean Cabernet–Carmenère blend and a Portuguese Touriga Nacional from 2019. Notably, none were sweet or fortified—categories that often impress immediately. Instead, these were dry wines, defined by structure, complexity and a strong sense of origin.

A particularly compelling flight was formed by the Romanian wines—dry whites. Out of 17 samples, one was returned due to cork taint and replaced with a second bottle, which was ultimately assessed by another panel. The remaining wines performed with confidence: 3 Silver Medals, and all others Gold. Fetească varieties showed clarity, balance and expressive character, while a Tămâioasă Românească came remarkably close to Grand Gold level. Careful not to appear biased, I found that my fellow judges were, in fact, even more generous in their scoring—an encouraging signal that Romania’s indigenous varieties are gaining well-deserved recognition and should sit at the core of a coherent promotion strategy.

On a broader level, the 2024 vintage in Europe appears challenging. The impact of climate change is increasingly visible: wines remain correct and typologically accurate, yet occasionally with a more restrained aromatic profile. In contrast, early impressions from 2025 suggest greater freshness and accessibility. Another notable shift: fewer rosé wines than in previous years—perhaps a sign of a softening trend—alongside a strong presence of Pinot Noir in multiple expressions. The direction seems clear: a growing preference for lighter, fruit-driven reds, with minimal oak influence.

Beyond the competition itself, the experience was enhanced by something simple: the weather. Warm temperatures allowed us to begin with a beer on a terrace just next to the hotel—one of the small but meaningful advantages of the new location. And the real surprise came on a Tuesday evening, when, without expectations, we discovered live music and found ourselves in one of the most memorable moments of this edition.

Because, in the end, Berliner Wine Trophy is not just about wine. It is about people, encounters, shared experiences—and that rare sense that, wherever it moves, the family remains the same. And sometimes, change simply confirms it.

Whenever things do not go as they should, the search for someone to blame begins. Producers did not mobilize in time. Authorities delayed procedures. Tenders were launched too late. Budgets are annual. Deadlines are strict. Each argument contains a measure of truth. And yet, if we look more closely, the problem is never purely administrative. The real issue is that we fail to function together.

Export is not an exercise in individual pride, nor is it a short sprint. It is a long-term construction. It requires consistency, trust, and collective accountability. Instead, in our sector, there is always someone convinced they can do better alone than through an associative structure. Perhaps the intentions are good. Perhaps the energy is genuine. But representing an entire industry cannot be done individually, under a private company, no matter how well intended the effort may be.

Romanian wine is not an isolated product. It is the image of a country. And an image cannot be renegotiated from one year to the next, depending on budgets or egos.

In 2017, at Vinexpo Bordeaux, Romania left behind an unpaid invoice and a bitter aftertaste. At the time, we said it was an accident, an unfortunate administrative decision, a lesson that would not be repeated. Nine years have passed. It is now 2026. We like to believe we have matured. And yet the vulnerabilities remain the same. Budgetary rigidity, public procurement procedures, fiscal constraints are invoked. All of them are real and well known. Precisely for that reason, they should be integrated into a stable, predictable mechanism. If the wine sector is considered strategic, then external promotion cannot depend on improvisation or fragile coordination between institutions and producers.

But the sector itself is not without responsibility. Associations are not sufficiently consolidated, producers struggle to formulate a coherent common strategy, and mutual trust remains limited. Individual agendas prevail, and the collective reputation ultimately pays the price.

At Wine Paris, a stand is not merely an exhibition space. It is a statement. It is our business card. In an industry where perception carries enormous weight, the way you present yourself determines whether you are seen as a serious partner or an accidental presence. From a fiscal standpoint, budget differences may not seem dramatic. From an image standpoint, however, they can be decisive.

The uncomfortable reality is that the Romanian wine sector is smaller than it appears and more vulnerable than we like to admit. Around it lies fierce competition, saturated markets, pressure on pricing and positioning. Without a shared strategy and coherent institutional support, each producer remains alone in a disproportionate battle.

The state rightly says it needs concrete proposals from the sector. The sector, equally justified, says it needs predictability and genuine support. Between these two expectations, time passes and opportunities are lost. This is not a matter of a single guilty party. It is a matter of collective maturity.

Romania’s representation at a fair such as Wine Paris cannot be left to chance, nor informally delegated to isolated initiatives, however well intentioned. A clear framework is needed, with transparent criteria and a mechanism that offers equal opportunities to both large and small producers. Political accountability is required, but so is internal cohesion. Otherwise, we will continue to repeat the same scenario: excitement before the fair, tension during organization, justifications afterward. And the image of Romanian wine will remain suspended between potential and reality.

Perhaps Wine Paris 2026 is not a failure, but another signal. A signal that we can no longer postpone the professionalization of our external representation. That we can no longer function in fragments. That we can no longer treat image as a detail. Because in the world of wine, image is the beginning of trust. And trust is hard to build and easy to lose.

The question is no longer who is to blame. The question is whether we will have the clarity to sit at the same table — producers, associations, authorities — and finally build something together.

Chris Howard speaks about this distinction with a clarity that makes you stop and reflect. There is a subtle but essential difference between thinking about wine and thinking with wine. In the first case, wine becomes an object. In the second, it becomes an experience. A pretext for paying closer attention to what you feel, what you perceive, what happens inside you. (“Rethinking wine means shifting from thinking about wine to thinking with wine.”)

Maybe that’s why conversations about wine can no longer be separated from the way we live and consume—especially in a context where the numbers tell one story, and the reality in the glass sometimes tells another.

Statistically, Romania produces around four million hectoliters of wine. It sounds impressive. But if we look more closely, we see that the volume of certified wine that actually reaches the market, according to ONVPV data, is under one million hectoliters per year. The gap between these figures says a lot about market fragmentation, self-consumption, wine that never enters commercial circulation, and how small the visible part of the industry truly is.

At the same time, shelves are filling up with imported wines. Italy, France, and Spain lead the way, joined increasingly by the Republic of Moldova. Correct, consistent wines—sometimes surprisingly affordable. Wines that ask little of the consumer and require little emotional involvement. You buy them, you drink them, you move on.

In this context, Romanian wine finds itself in a delicate position. It can no longer compete on price alone, yet it has not fully built a coherent narrative around identity, meaning, and distinction. And the consumer, caught between promotions and quick recommendations, often ends up choosing by reflex rather than conviction. Perhaps the real problem isn’t a lack of quality, but a lack of attention.

Because wine asks for time. It asks for stillness. It asks for the willingness to notice not only what’s in the glass, but what happens inside you as you drink it. What draws your attention. What moves you. What you rush to judge. What you miss.

Maybe this is where the idea of A Glass of Wine a Day truly begins: with the desire to slow down and become more conscious in our relationship with wine. Not as an automatic gesture, not as a daily checkbox, but as a moment of real attention. A glass that doesn’t demand haste, but presence. That doesn’t come with answers, but with questions.

Because when you start drinking wine this way, something changes. Not only in how you choose a bottle, but in how you relate to taste, to time, to value. And at that point, the difference between a Romanian wine and an imported one is no longer just a matter of price or origin, but of relationship.

Perhaps the future of wine doesn’t lie in bigger volumes or more aggressive promotions. Perhaps it lies in this return to attention. To the simple act of being present. To the courage to feel, not just to evaluate. And if there is one direction truly worth exploring in the years to come, maybe it is this: learning, once again, to drink wine as humans—not as algorithms.

The November light in Sicily has little in common with the blaze of summer. It’s softer, rounder, yet carries the quiet assurance of a place that has watched centuries pass. It settles on old facades, hidden courtyards and sun-worn stone as if continuing a conversation begun long before us. Palermo felt unusually gentle that week — almost summery, wrapped in warm air, clear skies and a golden glow that gave the city the illusion of a lingering September. No rain, no chill, none of the grey we associate with November back home. Everything moved at an easy, sunlit rhythm, as if the city were preparing us, almost imperceptibly, for what we were about to taste.

In the heart of the city, Palazzo Branciforte opened its doors to the encounters that would frame the story of modern Sicily. A Renaissance palace with the austere nobility of its former centuries, now reborn as a cultural space, it proved the perfect setting to understand an island in the midst of redefining itself. Within its cool rooms and high ceilings, Sicily began to reveal its new voice.

Sicily Between Tradition and Transformation — From Terroir to Responsibility

Today, Sicily is one of Italy’s largest and most dynamic appellations, a viticultural mosaic where tradition alone is no longer enough. Climate change isn’t an abstract notion here — it is a daily reality: rising temperatures, persistent drought, scorching summers, pressure on soils, pressure on people.

DOC Sicilia chose not to respond with nostalgia but with strategy. And that strategy has a name: SOStain, the Sicilian sustainability foundation reshaping the island’s entire approach to viticulture — from integrated and organic agriculture to reduced water and energy use, soil protection, full traceability and a strong return to biodiversity.

After the symposium, over a quiet glass of wine, Antonio Rallo — president of the Consortium and owner of Donnafugata — explained to me with disarming clarity that SOStain is not a marketing slogan but Sicily’s survival manual. The way he spoke about soil, water and vine betrayed the responsibility of someone who knows that the future of wine begins with small gestures, repeated patiently over years. For him, sustainability isn’t a trend — it is a lifeline.

And here lies the surprise: Sicily doesn’t simply want to remain relevant.
It wants to become a global model of sustainability, despite the challenges.

The Three Pillars of the Sicilian Temple: Lucido, Grillo, Nero d’Avola

The first masterclass explored foundations — what truly defines Sicily at its core. The three grapes in focus — Catarratto (Lucido), Grillo and Nero d’Avola — felt like essential chapters of the island’s identity, reinterpreted through a modern lens.

Lucido (Catarratto)
Long considered a workhorse variety, it appeared here as a revelation. High-altitude Lucido shows a brightness that evokes cool mornings rather than southern heat: notes of pink grapefruit, green apple, white peach and a delicate marine salinity. In versions aged on fine lees, the texture deepens, gaining a quiet elegance that needs no showmanship. A deeply underestimated grape with remarkable potential.

Grillo
If Lucido is tradition, Grillo is freedom. A chameleon of a grape, capable of swinging between tropical warmth and saline, zesty freshness depending on where and how it’s grown. In the glasses before us, Grillo moved from citrus-driven verticality to richer, more exotic expressions. A versatile grape, perfectly tuned to the needs of a changing climate.

Nero d’Avola
The undisputed monarch of Sicilian reds. Here, it combined blackberries, cherries and subtle spice with surprising freshness and silky tannins. Nero d’Avola is no longer the heavy, rustic red of decades past — it has become a refined, altitude-friendly wine that keeps its soul while evolving in style.

Hidden Treasures: Inzolia, Zibibbo, Frappato, Perricone

The second masterclass felt like the poetic counterpoint to the first — a deep dive into the island’s quiet, unexpected diversity.

Inzolia
Graceful, calm, understated. Citrus, almond, mango and a faint herbal whisper. A sunlit grape, but never exuberant — always balanced.

Zibibbo (Muscat of Alexandria)
The scent of eternal summer: white peach, jasmine, pineapple — yet surprisingly crisp and dry on the palate. The room softened noticeably with this wine; it’s hard not to smile when Zibibbo is done well.

Frappato
Playful, ruby-red, aromatic. Strawberries, raspberries, violets. Whisper-light tannins. The kind of red you drink chilled, fast, and cheerfully — more terrace happiness than classroom discipline.

Perricone
A rediscovered native, with firm tannins, wild herbs, pink peppercorn and dark fruit. It brought welcome depth to the line-up — a reminder that Sicily is not only pleasure, but also gravitas.

Sicily’s Tomorrow Is Being Written Today

The masterclasses were more than tastings; they were lessons in adaptation, identity and evolution. Inside the cool rooms of Palazzo Branciforte, I understood why Sicily is not merely an island of the past — it is an island of the future.

Sicilian wines are no longer “wines of the sun.”
They are wines of altitude, of precision, of vision.

Lucido transforms into a mineral, crystalline white.
Grillo rises as the island’s modern superstar.
Nero d’Avola becomes elegance rather than power.
Inzolia, Zibibbo, Frappato, Perricone — each finds its new voice in a Sicily reinventing itself.

And behind all these wines lies a shared philosophy:
sustainability isn’t a trend; it’s the only way forward.

When I stepped out of the palazzo, the November light still lingered on the city, and the aroma of freshly tasted wines clung softly to the air. That’s when I understood the true allure of Sicily: it is not an island living in the shadow of its glorious past, but one entirely committed to the present it is building — a present more daring than many wine regions in the world.

Sicily is not reinventing itself. Sicily is evolving — and inviting us to witness its future.

Still, what makes each trip here truly special are the people. Over the years, my fellow judges—coming from every corner of the world—have become like a family. In fact, I often see them more than my own relatives. With them I share not just wines and tastings, but also small urban adventures, long walks, late-night conversations, and the simple joy of being together.

This year, before dinner, we began with something quite unexpected for Berlin: a visit to a sake brewery. Marie, a dear friend and sake educator at WSET, welcomed us into a newly opened brewhouse next to a cozy sake bar. There we met the producer himself, who walked us through each step of the process—faithful to Japanese tradition but using rice imported from Italy by his own family. We tasted several styles of sake, including a sparkling one, and for a moment stepped into a completely different world—delicate, aromatic, and just as complex as wine. It was the perfect prelude to what would become a memorable evening.

For several years now, it has become our tradition to close one of the competition days with a special dinner in a surprising location. In 2025, our choice was Merold, a restaurant in East Berlin. Getting there is a small adventure in itself: the competition takes place in the west of the city, near Lake Tegel, so the journey by U-Bahn to the center can take almost an hour. Sometimes we go by bike, other times we stroll along the quiet lakeside paths, but the truth is, in Berlin even the journey feels like part of the experience.

At Merold, a creative and daring menu was waiting for us. Pairing a dinner for a table full of wine judges is never an easy task, but the team rose to the challenge. Only one natural wine sparked a heated discussion—the kind of wine that could easily mislead a newcomer into thinking it represents the whole category.

As for the dishes, they were unforgettable: radishes with yogurt and cheese, grilled cauliflower with oil and blackcurrants, shallots sautéed with garlic and dark flour, guinea fowl ravioli with bacon “orecchiette,” and finally, a refreshing dessert—gooseberry ice cream. Each course told its own story, each bite revealed a new layer.

And, as always, I realized that the real beauty of these evenings lies not only in the food or the wines, but in the people gathered around the table. In the laughter that comes out of nowhere, in the memories shared, in the plans made for the future.

That, for me, is what Berlin truly means: beyond the competition, beyond the wines, it’s about the joy of reunion, the friendships that grow stronger every year, and the certainty that this city never lets you leave empty-handed. Each time, you take something with you—a story, a memory, a smile that lingers long after the plane or train has taken you away.

Berlin always has something special that draws you in and makes you want to return. It is a vibrant city where, alongside history and art, you also find one of the most important international wine competitions: the Berliner Wine Trophy, held twice a year. My first participation was in 2014, and since then I have grown, learned, and refined my skills, eventually becoming a team leader (panel chair), coordinating a tasting panel.

The competition itself consists of four days of intensive tastings, each organized into several series of wines. Every series shares a common theme: they may come from the same country, the same grape variety, or related varieties from different regions. This format allows you to quickly form an understanding of a vintage’s typicity or the evolving trends in wine styles.

A relevant example: all red wines from the 2024 vintage were fruit-forward, unoaked, and without barrel ageing – approachable, juicy, easy to pair, yet full of personality.

The Cuvée series, whether white or red, always presents a challenge. Guessing the country of origin is not easy, and that is what makes it exciting. In another series dedicated to Chardonnay, I bet on Eastern Europe – and was right: the wines came from Hungary.

Italy remains a reliable benchmark, a country you can always count on for diversity and quality. I “traveled” through its wines: from Sicily with Catarratto, to Piemonte with Arneis, through Friuli, Veneto, Soave, Marche, and Tuscany with Trebbiano (Turbiano), Ribolla Gialla, Garganega, and Verdicchio, and back to Sicily with Carricante. All displayed freshness, floral and fruity notes, and lively acidity – exactly what you want on a warm summer day.

A standout moment was the series dedicated to Cortese, a regal selection of Gavi – the perfect wine to enjoy by the sea. Among the white wines, the Pinot Gris (Grauburgunder) series from Germany deserves mention – a revelation for its personality and structure, despite being considered a neutral grape. It may seem rustic in its first year, but it evolves beautifully and reaches perfection after 3–4 years. Gold medals were awarded generously.

For the red wines, global trends were confirmed: intense fruit aromas, unoaked, elegant, and easy to drink. This is a style I personally prefer. The most spectacular was Tempranillo from 2024 and 2023, sometimes blended with Graciano or Garnacha. Italy and Spain were the stars of the competition.

There were also surprises: red wines from Cyprus, introduced by our Cypriot colleague. Indigenous varieties such as Yiannoudi, Ofthalmo, and Maratheftiko (vintages 2018–2022) impressed with aromas of dark fruits, aromatic herbs, and spices.

Participating in the Berliner Wine Trophy is always a valuable experience – not only for the wines tasted, but also for the people you meet and for seeing international trends confirmed. It was a true pleasure to work alongside my fellow panel members, whose professionalism, attention to detail, and collaborative spirit made every tasting both rigorous and enjoyable. I am also grateful to the organizers, who provided perfect conditions for evaluation and a welcoming environment for all participants. This experience reaffirmed that the success of a wine competition relies on a dedicated team and passionate people. The Berliner Wine Trophy remains a benchmark in the wine world, and the 2025 edition was no exception.

A Millennia-Old Wine Culture

Slovenia’s winemaking heritage goes back thousands of years. Viticulture has long been part of rural life, passed down through families on sun-drenched hillsides. Far from industrialized wine production, Slovenia has preserved a culture of hands-on, honest winemaking.

The tradition of fermenting white grapes with their skins – what we now call orange wine – was never completely lost here. In western regions like Vipava Valley and Goriška Brda, this technique was quietly kept alive, especially in family cellars, even when modern white wines dominated the global market.

Orange Wines: Between Memory and Modernity

So what exactly is orange wine? It’s a white wine fermented with its grape skins, much like a red. The result: a wine with amber hues, gentle tannins, and surprising aromatic complexity. Expect notes of dried apricots, tea, citrus peel, herbs, sometimes even a slight saltiness – all thanks to extended skin contact.

In Slovenia, orange wines are often made naturally: wild yeasts, minimal to no sulfites, and aging in clay amphorae, old barrels or concrete eggs. It’s a patient, minimalist approach – and one that yields wines full of personality, structure, and depth.

Indigenous Grapes and Diverse Terroirs

Slovenia’s true treasure lies in its native grape varieties, each tied deeply to place. In Vipava Valley, several standout grapes are commonly vinified with skin contact:

• Zelen – herbal, fresh, with crisp acidity and wild plant aromas,
• Rebula (Ribolla Gialla) – taut, mineral, with hints of almond, tea, and yellow fruits,
• Pinela – floral and silky, with subtle dried fruit and a gentle bitterness,
• Malvasia (Malvazija Istarska) – aromatic and rich, with notes of citrus, dried flowers, and saline minerality.

These varieties thrive in Vipava’s limestone and flysch soils, under the influence of the bora, a strong dry wind that reduces disease pressure and allows for organic and biodynamic farming.

Slovenia and the Natural Wine Movement

Slovenia officially stepped into the global spotlight in 2019 when it became the first country to feature orange wines at its national stand at ProWein Düsseldorf. But many producers had long been known among sommeliers and natural wine lovers across Europe, the US and Japan.

Today, Slovenian orange wines feature prominently at festivals like RAW Wine and Orange Wine Festival (Izola). They appear on lists at Michelin-starred restaurants and natural wine bars worldwide. Cradled in a tradition of low-intervention winemaking, these wines are bold, sincere and rooted in place.

✨ A Culture of Sincerity – And Stories Yet to Be Told

What’s remarkable about Slovenia is not just the quality of its wines, but the honesty behind them. There is no smoke and mirrors here – just nature, time, and winemakers who trust both.

Each bottle is a quiet but powerful expression of terroir, vintage, and intention. And the story doesn’t end here. In the next articles in this series, we’ll dive deeper – winery by winery, grape by grape, voice by voice. The map of orange wines is just beginning to take shape – and Slovenia is right at its center.

Studying the Fetească Neagră from Lacerta in depth confirmed something I had long suspected: that this indigenous Romanian grape, when treated with understanding and care, can tell stories of rare beauty. And that the Dealu Mare region—literally “The Big Hill,” Romania’s most prestigious red wine appellation—is where this variety truly comes into its own.

Though Fetească Neagră (pronounced fe-TEASK-ah NEAH-grah) is cultivated in several regions across Romania and Moldova, it’s in Dealu Mare, with its iron-rich reddish soils, southern exposure and long ripening season, that it achieves the deepest expression of its character. The region’s terroir, shaped by hills, warm summers and cool nights, brings balance and structure to a grape that can be temperamental in the vineyard and complex in the cellar.

Lacerta Winery, located in the village of Fințești, has become one of the leading names in modern Romanian winemaking. Here, Fetească Neagră is not rushed or forced into international styles—it is guided, gently, to reveal what the land and the year have given. Fermentation takes place in temperature-controlled stainless steel tanks, with minimal mechanical stress. Part of the wine is then matured in carefully selected Romanian oak barrels usually used. These barrels don’t overpower the wine—they accompany it. They add finesse, depth, and a slow rhythm to the evolution of fruit, tannin, and spice.

Over the course of ten years and ten vintages—2011 to 2022—Lacerta’s Fetească Neagră has shown remarkable stylistic consistency while reflecting the individuality of each harvest. The 2012 vintage, shaped by prolonged drought, gave concentrated wines with black fruit, dried plums and a subtle, iron-like minerality. 2016 was all about balance: bright acidity, supple tannins, complex aromas of dark cherries, sweet spices and bittersweet chocolate. And 2022, a standout vintage, produced a wine that’s both fresh and structured, with excellent potential for aging.

Even in more challenging years like 2014 or 2020, marked by climatic extremes, Lacerta succeeded in crafting wines that are coherent and honest, true to their vintage and varietal identity. That’s no small feat for a grape as demanding as Fetească Neagră.

Organoleptically, the wine is intense in color—deep ruby in its youth, turning garnet with age. The aromatic profile is generous and layered: ripe black fruits (blackberries, plums, black cherries), dried fig, coffee, leather and a touch of dark chocolate. On the palate, it is velvety and expansive, with a fine-tuned balance between acidity and tannin. The finish is long, elegant and slightly earthy, echoing the mineral tension of the Dealu Mare terroir.

Pairing this wine invites creativity. It shines next to duck breast with sour cherry sauce, slow-cooked beef stews, hard aged cheeses or even a rustic dessert with dried fruits and cinnamon. But perhaps the best pairing is a quiet evening among friends who know how to listen—to each other, and to the wine.

What remains after a glass—or a bottle—of Lacerta’s Fetească Neagră is more than just the satisfaction of a well-made wine. It is the feeling of having been part, even for a moment, of a deeper story. A story about place, about patience, and about a native grape that, when given time and attention, can truly rise to excellence.

Lacerta’s wines are the result of a vision that blends scientific rigor with emotional intuition. Behind that vision stands Mihai Baniță, the estate’s chief oenologist, whose steady hand and deep understanding of both the grape and the land have shaped every vintage. He approaches winemaking with precision, restraint, and an instinct for elegance. Under his winemaking skills, Lacerta has become a benchmark not only for Fetească Neagră, but for what modern Romanian winemaking can achieve when tradition meets innovation.

Photo credit: www.lacertawinery.ro & myself

Two records were set during this edition:

• The highest number of rosé wine samples ever registered in the competition’s history – 50 more than last year.
• And most notably for us, Romania submitted 140 samples, more than triple the entries from previous years.

What are the benefits of such a competition for Romanian wine?

First and foremost, visibility. Many of the judges are journalists, wine communicators, or influencers with a strong presence in international media and on social platforms. When we talk about visibility, it’s not just about the wine itself – it’s also about the gastronomy, location, and cultural experience that surround it.

This kind of exposure benefits not only winemakers but also local tourism, especially oenotourism, which deserves a prominent place in the offers of Romanian travel operators. Wine brings people together – it opens conversations and creates memorable experiences.

Secondly, many of the judges are buyers for large distribution networks, specialized wine stores, and import-export companies. Hosting such an event is an excellent opportunity for Romanian producers to build commercial relationships.

For the Romanian winemaker, a medal from CMB is more than a trophy – it’s a gateway to international trade fairs, often presented in dedicated pavilions under the CMB banner. It also opens doors to new markets, especially since CMB has launched wine bars in Mexico City and Seoul, exclusively featuring medal-winning wines – locations chosen for their market potential and wine-savvy consumers.

So, if you’re wondering whether it’s worth submitting samples to this competition or which wine contest to choose – consider all these benefits.

We now eagerly await the results to be published on April 7, to see how Romanian wines performed in this international arena.

Tasting Highlights & Regional Standouts

As a proud member of Tasting Panel No. 2, which sampled over 120 wines in three days, I can say that France still leads the global rosé scene. Our series featured wines from:

• Provence (x2)
• Languedoc-Roussillon
• Corsica
• Loire Valley

These regions reaffirmed their dominance in terms of balance, aromatic precision, and stylistic elegance.

I was pleasantly surprised by Abruzzo, confirming that Italy is catching up fast with seductive rosé styles close in profile to their French counterparts. Portugal was also impressively represented, with many high-quality entries, and Spain showed noticeable improvement with consistently strong wines.

As for Romania, 2024 was not a standout year for rosé production – a sentiment echoed by the wines from Austria and Hungary, which also seemed to face challenges this vintage.

Being surrounded by jury colleagues with diverse professional backgrounds – from retail and hospitality to education, journalism, and marketing – makes each discussion an opportunity for continuous learning and fresh insights into the world of wine.

Beyond the Tasting – Discovering Dobrogea

In addition to the competition itself, we enjoyed unforgettable winery visits and culinary experiences across the Dobrogea region. Each stop added depth to our understanding of the terroir and local winemaking philosophy:

• Domeniul Bogdan – Biodynamic excellence and a holistic approach to viticulture.
• Alira Winery – Boutique wines with strong character from the hills of Dobrogea.
• Murfatlar – One of Romania’s most iconic wine brands, where we also enjoyed a festive dinner at New Punct Turistic Murfatlar, complete with traditional music and dancing.

In the evenings, we explored local cuisine in emblematic venues:

• Crazy Social House – a creative and relaxed space showcasing Dobrogea flavors with a modern twist.
• Golful Pescarilor – a charming seaside restaurant offering fresh fish and seafood, perfectly paired with local wines.

These experiences were made possible thanks to the generous support of:

• Jidvei Group
• Navigo
• Vintruvian Estate, which includes:
  • Caii de la Letea
  • Domeniile Prince Matei
  • CramaOlterra
  • Crama Histria

We were warmly hosted at Hotel Malibu, located right by the sea – the views and hospitality were truly exceptional.
Just before the gala dinner, we enjoyed a lunch hosted by the Transylvania region, offering us a taste of outstanding wines from:

• Liliac
• Villa Vinèa
• Crama La Salina
• Familia Darabont

The gala dinner on the final evening was held at the breathtaking Crama Rasova, overlooking the Danube and closing this incredible edition on a high note – with music, celebration, and of course rose.

1250 wines, dozens of friendships, and one unforgettable experience.
Constanța has once again proven that it’s not just a summer destination – it’s a rising hub for wine, hospitality, and international recognition.

Photo credit: Geo Curnic themoment.ro