Is Georgia truly the Cradle of Wine?

Of course Cradle of Wine is really a metaphor, and thus Georgia’s claim to the title is difficult to confirm or deny. But I think to begin to answer the question, we need to unpick two strands of evidence: the archaeology, and the grapevine DNA.

I have already written about the archaeological studies, and as far as I know there have been no major discoveries since then, so I will summarise them only briefly here. The oldest archaeological evidence of winemaking was found in what is currently now Georgia, and dates back 8,000 years. Also there is other very old evidence not so far away, in Armenia and northern Iran, so taken together, current indications are that winemaking originates in that general region. But of course Georgia did not exist back then. And who knows when even older archaeology might come to light? Over-zealous marketers might also like to note that the clay vessels from 8,000 years ago do not particularly look like qvevri, and the archaeological site was not in Kakheti, the current main winemaking region of Georgia, as is sometimes claimed or implied.

Limited as it is, the archaeological evidence is pretty strong. However, at the time there were various DNA studies that added weight to the general idea that winemaking started in the South Caucasus and spread out from there. I also referred to that DNA evidence in my earlier post. Again to summarise briefly, it seemed the greatest genetic variation in domesticated wine grapes was in the South Caucasus, which indicated that they had existed there longer than anywhere else. Also, wine grapes in Europe were genetically closer to wild grapes in the South Caucasus than they were to the local European wild grapes.

However, the DNA evidence mentioned above has been upturned by a large scale study published around a year ago. This study concludes that there were two independent grapevine domestication events around 11,000 years ago: one in the South Caucasus, and one in the Levant. In the South Caucasus the grapevines were more suited to winemaking, and in the Levant to the production of table grapes. Figure taken from Dual domestications and origin of traits in grapevine evolution, Dong et al., Science 379, 892–901 (2023)However, it was the domesticated grapevine stock from the Levant that spread around the Mediterranean and throughout Europe, where it was crossed with local wild grapevines to create the well-known varieties we use in winemaking today. The grapevines from the South Caucasus domestication event spread to a much more limited extent, up into what is now Russia, and around the north of the Black Sea as far as central Europe.Figure taken from Dual domestications and origin of traits in grapevine evolution, Dong et al., Science 379, 892–901 (2023)So for people that care about these things, assuming that winemaking did start in Georgia, or at least the South Caucasus, the story about how it spread throughout Europe is not as straightforward as it used to be. Did it perhaps spread from Georgia to the Levant, and then to Europe via the Mediterranean, which means that the Georgian varieties did not spread in the same direction as the winemaking? Or did it perhaps pop-up independently in the Levant and/or in Europe? If started independently elsewhere, could Georgia still claim to be the “Cradle of Wine”?

Also we might ask how the new DNA findings could affect the perception of Georgian grape varieties. Is it looked on less favourably because the link with the now famous international varieties is broken, or is it enhanced because the Georgian varieties could now be seen to be a stronger USP (unique selling point), because they are more distinctive? Or maybe Georgian wine marketers are just going to stick their heads in the sand, and pretend the DNA evidence does not exist? So far, one year on from the publication of the research, it looks like they’re taking the head-in-the-sand approach. In any case, the archaeology is always going to make a better story than DNA research.

As a lover of both wine and Georgia, I want its wine to be effectively marketed so it can be enjoyed more widely, and I find the history of wine a fascinating subject. But truthfully, the history of how winemaking and grapevines spread across Europe does not at all affect my enjoyment of Georgian wine. What does though, however irrational it might be, is the idea that winemaking has an unbroken tradition within Georgia that spans several thousand years. That in itself is a great USP.

Various artisanal wines from Georgia

I had been wanting to try wines from Oda Family Marani for some time, so when I heard that Sager and Wine had imported some into the UK,  I approached them in August 2022 to get some, and finished up buying a mixed case of interesting artisanal wines from Georgia.

I’m afraid it took me over a year to work my way through the case, so it is unlikely that it is possible to buy more of these vintages – from anywhere actually, considering the small production volumes – but I thought my tasting notes might still be of some interest.

They were all tasted at home, and drunk with evening meals, so each one got a good “road test”. But the downside of course is that they were not compared side-by-side.

Tsolikouri, Oda Family Marani, 2020, 14.5%, £25.00

Dry amber wine. Natural, unfiltered. Grapes from small vineyard in Nakhunavo village (Martvili), in Samegrelo region. Naturally fermented on 50% skins, in qvevri for 7 months. 900 bottles made

Palish amber, or medium pale gold. Shiny and clear. Slight formation of froth in bottle after double-decanting. Intense, complex and peppery, reductive notes. Medium acidity. Dry. Slight astringency. Lip-smacking from the tang, astringency, and pepper notes. Flavours I more normally associate with orange wines, which were not so evident on the nose, came through on the palate. Dry, refreshing finish. Overall feeling of lightness despite the high alcohol content. Drink now. A solid *****

Dzelshavi, Oda Family Marani, 2020, 12.5%, Sager and Wine, £27.00

Dry red wine. Natural, unfiltered. Grapes from small vineyard in Bostana village (Ambrolauri), Racha region. Naturally fermented on all skins, aged in qvevri for 7 months. 900 bottles made

Medium pale ruby, with some hints of purple. Intense, fresh berry primary fruit. Cherry, and blueberry perhaps. Medium acidity. Low astringency. Some sweetness of ripe fruit. Quite edgy, similar to astringency, but I guess it was bitterness. But in a good way, as it helps the wine finish dry, and clean, fresh and grown, while still being lip-smackingly good. Drink now. I liked this a lot on first tasting, but not so much together with a chicken curry. However, another bottle bought at the same time seemed to improve with food throughout the evening. Overall, let’s say *****

Kakhuri Mtsvane, Kortavebis Marani, 2020, 12.7%, £30.00

Amber, dry,  natural qvevri wine. Unfiltered. Gremi village, Kakheti region. Full skin fermentation, age 9 months in qvevri. Made by Tamuna Bidzinashvili

Medium caramel brown. Not very intense. Sharpish, caramel and lemon. High acidity. High astringency. Strange aromatically – like herbal cough drops. Is that some sort of brett? Also quite phenolic. Not yet sure about how much I like this. It’s not what I would expect. As a tentative, uncertain score, I’d say ****

“Mimoza”, Freya’s Marani, 2020, 14.0%, £26.00

Tsolikouri grapes from Tsitelkhevi, Imereti region. Grapes foot crushed and left on all skins and stems for 10 days. Made in qvevri. Made by Ének Freya Peterson

Medium amber. Smoky. Burnt rubber maybe. Medium high acid. Dry. I sense there is intense fruit in there somewhere, but it is clobbered by the smokiness. Maybe with time throughout the evening the smokiness is blowing off and a complex wine is being revealed. I’m going to say ****

“Oh, the wind and the rain”, Freya’s Marani,  2020, 12.0%, £26.00

Tsolikouri and Krakhuna grapes from Persati, Imereti region. Foot crushed and left on all skins and stems for 4 months. Made in qvevri. Produced by Ének Freya Peterson

Medium pale ruddy gold. Fresh, gentle phenolic aromas. Medium high acidity. Dry. Medium high tannin. Intense, as nose, and complex. Bretty bandage notes – not unpleasant to my taste, but others might object to this. Worked well with food *****

“Cuvée Polyamoria”, Gogo Wine, 2019, 13.5%, £31.00

Saperavi, Mtsvane and Rkatsiteli grapes from Artana village, Telavi, Kakheti region. Macerated on skins for 6 months. Made by Keti and Kakha Berishvili

Proper red wine colour – crimson purple – but strangely pale. I guess that’s the blended red and white varieties. Intense, aromatic and spicy. Berry fruit. Medium high acid. Dry. Massive tannins. Intense, as nose. Decent length. Finishes dry. Lip-smacking from the flavour profile and the tannins. I love it, but definitely a food wine *****

Tiamora”, Gogo Wine, 2020, 15.5%, Sager and Wine, £31.00

Rkatsiteli. Amber, dry wine. Macerated with skins for 7 months. Made by Keti and Kakha Berishvili, Artana village, Telavi, Kakheti region

Medium ruddy amber. Intense, sharp, pungent almost, complex fruit. Bitter oranges? Nuts. High acid. Hugely intense, as nose. Massive astringency. Despite the astringency almost, this is a classy wine, and delicious. Why not drink now? Great example of a good hard-core Kakhetian wine in my opinion ******

“Moksa”, Gogo Wine, 2020, 12.5%, Sager and Wine, £31.00

Dry rosé wine. Chinuri, Mtsvane and Danakharuli grapes. Half were foot-crushed, and the remainder with skins maceration. Made by Keti and Kakha Berishvili, Artana village, Telavi, Kakheti region

Pinkish medium pale amber. Intense. Floral, rose perhaps. Phenolic. Medium high acid. Dry. Low but detectable astringency. As nose. Gentle, elegant, yet distinctly an orange wine. Drink now. One for orange-skeptics *****

Saperavi, Artanuli Gvino, 2019, 13.5%, £29.00

Red wine. 12 days skin maceration, qvevri ageing for 8 months. Made by Keti and Kakha Berishvili of Gogo Wine, but the  Artanuli Gvino project was started by their father. Artana village, Telavi, Kakheti region

Intense ruby purple. Intense, rich and brooding, dark fruit. High acidity, and acerbic. High tannins, maybe the root of the acerbic nature. Intense, as nose, the brooding weight being alieviated by the acidity. Big and impressive. Would probably age well to give a completely different wine, but attractive now in its own way if you like that sort of thing. I did, so *****

Chinuri, Samtavisi Marani, 2020, 12.0%, Sager and Wine, £33.00

Amber, dry wine, unfiltered. Made in qvevri with 7 months skin contact. Samtavisi village, Shida Kartli, region

Medium pale amber. Smells mainly of slight oxidation. Medium acid. Dry. Actually, this might be a tad corked too. Either way it’s not very pleasant. No joy to be had from this, but hopefully it is just a faulty bottle *

Goruli Mtsvane, Samtavisi Marani, 2020, 13.5%, Sager and Wine, £31.00

Amber, dry wine, unfiltered. Made in qvevri with 7 months skin contact. Samtavisi village, Shida Kartli region

Medium amber. No sediment, despite it being unfiltered. Medium phenolic. Dry. Alcohol on nose, and also on palate, where it conferred weight, some sweetness, and a slight alcoholic burn notes. Medium low acidity. Medium tannin. Despite the prominent alcohol, in some ways this was smooth and classy, and I quite liked it ****

 

A Tvishi wine, from Chateau Tvishi

The wine originates from this beautiful vineyard in Tvishi, a village in the Lechkhumi region of Georgia, a drive of around 45 km north from Kutaisi. Different styles of wine are made in the village, but unfortified wines carrying the Tvishi name must be white, semi-sweet and use only the Tsolikouri grape variety.

It is from a family winery, Chateau Tvishi, headed by the winemaker Oleg Nemsitsveridze, and the bottle was gifted to me by a good friend who is a family member.

I think this is the first white semi-sweet Georgian wine I have tasted, so I have little to compare it with except sweet wines from the rest of the world, but for what it’s worth here is my tasting note.

Chateau Tvishi, Tvishi, Semi-Sweet White Wine, Georgia, 2021, 12.6%
Medium amber colour. I would guess there was at least a little skin contact, but do not know for sure. Intense and fresh on the nose, with pear aromas. I could also detect some alcohol on the nose. Medium acidity and sweetness. It felt surprisingly full-bodied considering the alcohol level. In addition to the pear aromas I also noticed some ginger on the palate. There was maybe a slight bitter edge on the finish, which I saw as a positive thing, as it left the mouth feeling refreshed *****

It really was unlike any other sweet wine I have tasted, and I found it intriguing and very enjoyable. Often sweetish wines without high acidity can feel flabby, but this one remained taut regardless. I should perhaps also mention that I didn’t pair it with a dessert, as recommended on the label, but with a pear, pomegranate, cheese and almond salad, which was then followed by the Georgian dish shkmeruli (pieces of chicken, fried and then cooked in a creamy garlic sauce), and I thought the wine worked very well with that food.

I’d also like to give a big shout out to Kneina in Tbilisi, who were very welcoming when we asked if we could open this bottle in their restaurant. They also gave us excellent food, and friendly service, on a few other visits during our time in Tbilisi.

Qvevri PGI

There has been a Georgian PGI for qvevri since 21st May 2021. Most web pages announcing the event seemed to be little more than rehashed versions of the same press release. So here, somewhat belatedly, I try to explain a bit of the background, and discuss some of the issues around the Qvevri PGI as I see them.

Originally, the Protected Geographical Indication (PGI) was introduced as an EU category that could be used interchangeably with country-specific terms such as Vin de Pays for wines from France, Vino de la Tierra for Spain, or Indicazione Geografica Tipica for Italy, etc. Key differences were that under the new system, the same name for the category was to be used in all countries, albeit possibly translated into a local language, and also that the same PGI category applied across a range of agricultural products and foodstuffs, such as wine, cheese and olive oil. In a similar fashion, the EU Protected Denomination of Origin (PDO) was introduced as an alternative to the old Appellation d’Origine Controllée, Denominación de Origen, Denominazione di Origine Controllata, etc.

Following EU terminology, Georgia also introduced its own list of PGI and PDO goods. Previously it used the term Appellation of Origin, and while you still see that term used on the official website, which is a little confusing, all recent documents refer to the newer terms PGI and PDO.

Georgia’s list is independent of the EU’s, and is primarily only of relevance in Georgia, in the same way that the EU list applies primarily within the EU. However, both the EU and Georgia have entered into treaties with trading partners to gain recognition of their protected names in other countries too. Thus, for example, the USA recognises most EU PGIs and PDOs, though it has negotiated a small number of exceptions. Recognition of Georgian PGIs and PDOs outside of Georgia is however quite a lot more limited. You might like to note for reference that the official list of Georgian protected names is on the Sakpatenti website here, and the names protected by treaty in other countries are linked to from this page. If you are primarily interested in the Georgian wine PDOs, I recommend you take a look at this article first: Georgian Wine PDOs.

You can find the text of the Qvevri PGI document on the Sakpatenti website, which opens as a pop-up from the list of PGIs, but for your convenience I have created a PDF version of its text. The first thing worthy of note, is that the PGI applies to the qvevri itself, not the wine that is made in the vessel. So in that respect it breaks with EU usage, where PGIs and PDOs apply only to agricultural produce and foodstuffs. Also, as far as the geographical element of the PGI is concerned, the only requirements are that the raw materials should come from Georgia and that the qvevri be made in Georgia. I believe this is also inconsistent with EU usage, where PGIs and PDOs typically, if not always, refer to regions within countries.

In the PGI document, there is a lot of historical and cultural detail, but as far as I can see the only documented requirements of the PGI for qvevri seem to be that:

1) The raw materials should come from Georgia, and the qvevri is made in Georgia,

2) The qvevri maker is a member of the Organization of PGI Qvevri Producers/Makers, or other authorised body, and

3) The authorised body needs to certify that the vessel is indeed a qvevri, and make a permanent official mark of the organization on it, to allow traceablity.

The details of what is required to gain certification are not specified in the PGI document, and seem to be totally the responsibility of the certifying body.

I think it is commendable that steps are being taken to protect usage of the term Qvevri, but I am struggling to understand what precisely this PGI achieves. If I understand it correctly the PGI would stop someone in Georgia claiming to sell or own a qvevri if that vessel does not have appropriate marking and associated documentation. It might also prevent a wine producer claiming Qvevri as a trademark, as happened in Armenia with Karas, the Armenian equivalent of the qvevri. However, the PGI seems to exclude any qvevri made before the authorised bodies came into existence. And the chances of any other country recognising the Georgian Qvevri PGI will be pretty slim, as it applies to a clay vessel, rather than an agricultural product or foodstuff.

To me, the important thing is how the qvevri is used in winemaking. If the wine barely touches the insides of the qvevri, why should I care about whether it conforms to the new PGI? I was rather hoping for something on wine labels that would provide a guarantee that the wine was fermented, and aged for a specified period of time, in a qvevri vessel that conforms to a specific definition. To me, the obvious way to achieve this would be to append “Qvevri” to existing PDO names for such wines. And to be totally unambiguous about the claim, the text “PDO” should always be used on the label where it applies, e.g. “Kakheti Qvevri PDO”.

Within Georgia, I guess reputable qvevri winemakers are well known, and in some cases friends or relatives. But those of us that buy exported Georgian wines need a bit more reassurance – a reassurance that Qvevri PGI sadly does not provide.

Thinking inside the qvevri

Firstly, I’d encourage you to read this article by Daria Kholodilina. It gives a great summary of recent wine trends in Georgia, and was the stimulus for the opinions I am about to share here.

Evidence of ancient winemaking in the Vardzia cave complex

Well, have you read it now? Go on – I promise it won’t take you long.

I agree with Daria that the story of Georgian wine can get repetitive for people familiar with it – 8,000 years of wine history – qvevri and orange wine – importance of wine in Georgian culture – Soviet wine production in Georgia (boo) – etc, etc. But we lovers of Georgian wine should remember that most people are still ignorant of that story.

While boring for some, it is still in my opinion vastly important to communicate that story of tradition, because it is a true unique selling point that differentiates Georgia and its wine from the rest of the world. The recent introduction into Georgia of pet nat wines, free-standing qvevri, and concrete eggs, is also interesting, and may make some producers stand out amongst their fellow Georgians, but in the global context they are not so remarkable. Of course underground qvevri are used elsewhere in the world too, but not with all the tradition and experience of Georgia.

If you think traditional qvevri are boring, you should try visiting producers in other countries! I am sure most tourists and importers would much rather see qvevri tops, than yet another array of stainless steel tanks followed by a bottling line. I hasten to add that I personally am sufficiently geeky to find all of the above interesting, so if you have recently shown me your bottling line please don’t be offended 🙂

But to return to the story of Georgian wine, here are some suggestions as to how Georgian producers might seek to differentiate themselves amongst their neighbours within a traditional context:

1) If you use qvevri, talk about the variation in qvevri winemaking throughout the country, and explain how you fit into the national picture, and within your region. I know your wines are not all heavily extracted tannic monsters, but I am not sure how many people understand that yet.

2) Give context to your grape varieties in the same way. Explain how local or widespread they are, and where they are grown. I personally also find it helpful to know how the names translate into English, because they then become more meaningful and easy to remember.

3) I think most people already do this, but tell your backstory. I find the roots of Georgian producers particularly fascinating as they are so diverse – from hobbyist to ex-Soviet wine factory and everything in-between.

4) Finally – terroir. My impression is that this is given very little emphasis in Georgia, but wine people in general seem to love hearing about terroir. So why not do some research on your geology and soils, and your micro- and macro-climates, and explain why they are so important?

I know I cannot speak for everyone, but the above is my opinion as a British drinker of Georgian wine who has so far made a couple of trips to Georgia, and has visited vineyards on both trips. I’d also like to emphasise that I am not against innovation per se -it’s just that it is the Georgian tradition of winemaking that will keep drawing me back to the country and its wine.

Having now completed most of Daria’s bingo card, I shall end with a gaumarjosგაუმარჯოს.

Intoxicated by Matrobela?

Serious wine tasters are supposed to spit, to avoid intoxication. However, as this Georgian wine producer chose the name Matrobela (Georgian for intoxicating), I decided to actually drink these wines. Shocking, I know.

Matrobela is a recently established producer from 2015, and I have not been able to find much information about it. But it is based in Kisiskhevi, a village in Eastern Georgia, not far from the Kakheti regional capital of Telavi, and right next door to Tsinandali village. It has a modern winery with large stainless steel tanks, and a so-called château with qvevri and space for tastings and other events – a successful combination of the traditional methods and the best experience of modern wine making, as it says on their website.

I first encountered Matrobela at Georgian wine tastings in the UK organised by Sarah Abbott’s Swirl Wine Group, and always found their wines to be of high quality. So I thought I would buy a few bottles from Taste of Georgia in order to get to know them better.

I give the Taste of Georgia’s normal prices below, but actually got a couple of pounds discount on each bottle, so if you are lucky with the timing of your purchase you might too. You might also note that I mention below the Georgian PDOs of Tsinandali and Mukuzani – if those names are new to you, you might like to take a look here.

Mtsvane, White Dry, 2018, 13.0%, £15.50
The back label says this was grown in Kakheti, which is where most Georgian wines come from.  Mtsvane is the grape variety.
Very pale greenish straw. Herby, and somehow seems to have a heavy low-register nose – unusual and difficult to describe. On the palate, medium-high acidy. Fully dry, but with ripe fruit. Full-bodied, a little hot even, but in an OK sort of way. Intense aromatically, like nose but perhaps with some orange peel or blossom too. Overall it is very flavoursome and makes a big impression. Unusual, but I like it.

Rkatsiteli, Amber Dry, 2018, 13.0%, £17.00
Here the grape variety is Rkatsiteli. On the back label we find that this is fermented and macerated in qvevri, with 6 months skin contact, and unfiltered. Also, amongst the other details, it says that the vineyards are in the Appellation Tsinandali. So is it claiming to be Tsinandali PDO or not? I would guess not. It is also strange that qvevri are not mentioned on the front label. There is something that looks like a qvevri logo there, but the labels of the three other wines have a much more prominent qvevri design element, even the ones that are presumably made in stainless steel.
The wine is a very pale shade of amber, and there is very little sediment. Perhaps, although it had 6 months of skin contact, not all the skins were present? Also, if it is unfiltered it must have been very carefully racked and fined. The nose is subtle and nicely balanced, with citrus fruit as the main aroma – orange, lemon and lime I think. And gentle phenolics from the skin contact. Medium acidity. Dry, and low but detectable astringency. Drink now. Balanced and nuanced. There is nothing at all here to frighten the horses, and even the most hardened orange-wine sceptic might find something to love about this wine

Mukuzani, Red Dry, 2018, 13.5%, £18.50
This is a Saperavi varietal wine, and aged in oak barrels for 12 months according to the back label. And from the prominent use of the word Mukuzani on the front label, I think we can fairly assume this is Mukuzani PDO.
Intense purple. I have seen more intensely coloured Saperavi, but this is still pretty dark. Intense, fresh, sharp dark fruit. Sweet and fruity blackberry rather than blackcurrant. No obvious oak, which is nice. High acidity. Medium astringency, maybe medium-high. Intense aromatics as per nose. Intense and lip-smacking. Like a slap round the face, in a good way. Good length and a slightly bitter finish – again, something I see as a positive. This is good to go, but I would see no problems keeping it for a few years at least.

Saperavi, Red Dry Qvevri Wine, 2018, 12.5%, £18.50
As with the Rkatsiteli, we are told that the grapes come from the Tsinandali Appellation, which sounds a bit silly. They may well come from the Tsinandali area, but it is a white wine appellation. Also on the back label, it says that this has 4 weeks of skin contact, and is unfiltered.
Intense ruby-garnet with purple tinges. Yes it really does seems to have elements of lot of shades of red! As with the Mukuzani, it is not nearly as dark as many Saperavis. And again, no sediment, which is surprising for an unfiltered wine. Fresh, sharp, dark fruit. Hint of blackcurrant boiled sweet  esters, but also some pleasant complexity. Medium-high acidity. Medium tannin. Nice ripe tannins, but with a texture you can almost chew. Thanks to the texture, this is full-bodied effect despite the moderate alcohol level. The flavours are light though, so it does not feel heavy and brooding.  Some bitterness, especially on finish. Drink now I think. A good, all-round, nicely balanced wine.

Perhaps it does not come out strongly enough in my tasting notes, but I was very impressed with these wines, which each got a ***** rating from me. They are all unusual enough to be interesting to a western palate, and yet they are also of high quality according to international standards, showing good intensity, balance and complexity. They also showed no faults, and neither did the ones I encountered at earlier tastings – something which you certainly cannot say about a lot of Georgian wine production as soon as you move away from the large-scale brands. In my experience, even the prevalence of something as undisputably faulty as cork taint seems to be higher in Georgian wines, so I was pleased to note that Matrobela uses Diam corks.

Having said all that, I do not want to sound too critical of the more artisanal and natural end of the Georgian wine spectrum. There are many such wines with “challenging” flavour profiles that I enjoy, and they can be the wines that give me most pleasure. In that regard, I like many wines that others might dismiss as faulty, and also the massively tannic Saperavis from Kakheti.

But these  Matrobela wines are different – they are easy to like. I have been intoxicated by Matrobela, literally and figuratively.

Edit 24th October 2020 – A few days ago I opened another bottle of the Mtsvane. I don’t know whether it was me, the wine or the occasion, but I enjoyed it a lot less this time round. It seemed less flavourful, and the high alcohol was quite obtrusive – definitely hot, and more like a fino Sherry than anything else, but not as refreshing. I would need to try more bottles before I could recommend this wine.

Georgian wine PDOs

Just a quick post to remind you of my Georgian PDO mini-series, and also help you get a better overview of it – something otherwise hampered by the reverse-chronological order on my home page.

My first post aims to give a quick practical guide to the Georgian PDOs you are most likely to come across in the UK – Tsinandali, Mukuzani, Kindzmarauli and Khvanchkara . Arguably, these are also the most important PDOs in general. In outline at least, this covers pretty much everything that most wine drinkers will need to know about Georgian PDOs, while the other two posts in the series are more hardcore.

After the practical guide, I dive into more detail, listing and summarising all the current PDOs, and giving a bit of background. Here I try to stick to the facts.

Finally, I express opinions about the Georgian PDO system and labelling requirements, and offer a few suggestions for improvement.

Georgian wine PDOs – an opinion, with suggestions

I understand absolutely why Georgia feels the need to try to protect names in its own country, and perhaps even more importantly in Russia, which has a bit of a history in wines fraud and is still an important market. I also think, when selling to foreign markets where Georgian wines are less understood, including the UK and the EU, it is a good idea to have a solid PDO system in place before it is absolutely necessary. And it is probably a shrewd move to make that system compatible with the EU’s.

The legal framework for Georgia’s PDO system looks sound to me. I won’t bore you more than necessary, but there is a law that bans the misleading use of PDO names on labels, and in advertising and related documents. It does leave open the question as to what could be construed as misleading, but is otherwise clear.

Additionally, each PDO registration document carries a paragraph that says how, for foreign language labels etc, the PDO name should be spelled using the Latin and Cyrillic alphabets, and that is should be followed by “Protected Designation of Origin” and/or “PDO” (in English) or the Cyrillic alphabet equivalent (presumably in Russian). The main point of these paragraphs seems to be the spelling of the PDO name, rather the circumstances in which it should be followed by “Protected Designation of Origin” and/or “PDO”. The lack of clarity is not helped by the very different ways that this clause is rendered into English in the official translation of each PDO registration document; the Georgian versions of the same documents seem to be much more consistent.

Sadly, I think the lack of clarity on labelling requirements has opened to way to some confusion. Here are a few examples of wine labels, which incidentally are not at all meant as criticism of the particular producers concerned.

On the left we have a Pheasant’s Tears Saperavi wine, with Kakheti at the bottom of its label. Is this just saying that it’s grown and made in Kakheti, or is it claiming the PDO of Kakheti? If it is the former, does that make it misleading? Then the middle label also has Kakheti at the bottom, but this cannot be Kakheti PDO because the wine contains many non-compliant grape varieties. Is that misleading? Finally, the one on the right has Kartli at the bottom of the label, which is not a PDO, so that is fine. But that does suggest the two other labels do not represent PDO claims either.

Moving on to another set of labels, the above Teliani Valley one actually has three PDO names on it: Teliani, Tsinandali and Kakheti. I think most people familiar with Georgian wines would assume that it is Tsinandali PDO. But is that actually correct? And what are other people to think? Teliani Valley is actually a producer’s name but it looks geographical, and Kakheti would be more recognisable for someone who knows Georgian regions but not wine. And for those smarty-pants who thought the Teliani Valley wine was Tsinandali PDO, what about the label on the right. Tsinandali too? Nope, I don’t think so – look more carefully – in smaller letters it says Kakheti AOC. To be fair, I think this is an old label, which is also indicated by the use of AOC rather than PDO, but at the very least this is very confusing.

Actually, it is quite common for Georgian producer names to include the name of a PDO. Apart from Teliani Valley, examples that spring to mind are Tsinandali Estate, Vazisubani Estate and Royal Khvanchkara. OK, it happens in other countries too, but that does not make it any less confusing.

To be constructive, and with all due humility and the perspective of a foreign drinker of Georgian wines, I would suggest a couple of additional PDO labelling regulations:

1) PDO wines should have the PDO name clearly displayed on the label, followed by “Protected Designation of Origin” or “PDO”. This is not unusual for other countries with PDO and PDO-like systems. In some cases  there is also some uncertainty about, or discrepancy between, the name of the PDO and what should appear on the label (Ateni, I am looking at you). Why not make it crystal clear and consistent?

2) Also, any other word on the label that is a PDO, but not the wine’s actual PDO, should have a clearly defined context.  So, for example, a Tsinandali PDO wine may additionally say “Wine of Kakheti”; Kakheti PDO wines may say “Made from grapes harvested near the village of Tsinandali” on the back label (if that is true, of course); and producer names that incorporate a PDO name should usually be preceded by “Produced by”.

Additionally, moving away from the subject of PDOs, it might be worth seeking to protect the use of “qvevri wine” on wine labels, restricting its usage to defined production methods – I would suggest limiting it to methods that are traditional in the region of origin. Also, it would not hurt to standardise on “qvevri” or “kvevri” as the transliteration for wine labels. By all means, avoid the mess that Armenia got into with “karas” and “karasi”.

Is all this really so important? Well, it’s hardly a life or death issue, but I believe clarity is the key to communicate Georgian PDOs to wine-drinkers, especially in markets where the wines are little known. It is effectively a type of branding – one that deserves care and attention over a long period of time.

Georgian wine PDOs – the details

I will explain in this post some of the formal details of what Georgian wine PDOs are all about, and how to get further information about each of them, but firstly here is a summary table of the 25 wine PDOs currently registered. (The table will probably display better on phones if your screen is horizontal.)

PDO name Region Style Grape varieties
Akhasheni Kakheti Semi-sweet red Saperavi, Saperavi Budeshuri
Akhmeta Kakheti Dry, semi-dry or semi-sweet white; or amber Kakhuri Mtsvane, and (for amber wine only) ≤15% Kisi and Khikhvi
Akhoebi Kakheti Dry red Saperavi, Saperavi Budeshuri
Asuretuli Shala Kvemo Kartli Dry red Asuretuli Shavi, ≤15% Takveri and Shavkapito
Ateni Shida Kartli Sparkling or slightly sparkling white; or dry non-sparkling white Chinuri, Goruli Mtsvane, Aligoté
Bolnisi Kvemo Kartli Dry, white, amber, rosé or red Rkatsiteli, Chinuri, Goruli Mtsvane, Saperavi, Tavkveri, Shavkapito, Asuretuli Shavi
Gurjaani Kakheti Dry white Rkatsiteli and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane
Kakheti Kakheti Any sweetness level, and any colour Rkatsiteli, Kakhuri Mtsvane, Kisi, Khikhvi, Mtsvivani Kakhuri, Chitistvala, Saperavi, Saperavi Budeshuri, Cabernet Sauvignon, Rkatsiteli Vardisperi
Kardenakhi Kakheti Dry amber; or medium-dry fortified white Rkatsiteli, and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane and Khikhvi
Khvanchkara Racha Semi-sweet red Aleksandrouli, Mujuretuli
Kindzmarauli Kakheti Semi-sweet red Saperavi, Saperavi Budeshuri
Kisi Magraani Kakheti Dry white; or dry amber Kisi
Kotekhi Kakheti Dry red; or dry white Saperavi; or Rkatsiteli
Kvareli Kakheti Dry red Saperavi
Manavi Kakheti Dry White Kakhuri Mtsvane
Mukuzani Kakheti Dry red Saperavi, Saperavi Budeshuri
Napareuli Kakheti Dry red; or dry white Saperavi, Saperavi Budeshuri; or Rkatsiteli and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane
Okami Shida Kartli Dry red; or dry white Shavkapito; or Chinuri and/or Goruli Mtsvane
Okureshis Usakhelouri Lechkhumi Red. Dry, semi-dry, or semi-sweet Usakhelouri
Salkhino Ojaleshi Samegrelo Dry red Ojaleshi
Saperavi Khashmi Kakheti Dry red Saperavi
Sviri Imereti Dry white Tsolikouri, Tsitska, Krakhuna
Teliani Kakheti Dry red Cabernet Sauvignon
Tibaani Kakheti Dry amber Rkatsiteli, and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane and Khikhvi
Tsarapi Kakheti Dry amber Rkatsiteli, and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane and Khikhvi
Tsinandali Kakheti Dry white Rkatsiteli and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane
Tvishi Lechkhumi Semi-sweet white Tsolikouri
Vazisubani Kakheti Dry white Rkatsiteli and ≤15% Kakhuri Mtsvane
Zegaani Kakheti Dry red. Bio. Qvevri Saperavi

The links in the table take you to the official English translations of the Sakpatenti PDO registration documents, which include quite a lot of detail, including maps. I recently printed them to PDF files, because I could find no other way of linking to the individual PDO documents – this means that they will not necessarily be the latest versions, so check the registration and printing dates in the PDF files if in doubt.

There are issues with the Sakpatenti English translations. In particular, note that the Georgian originals consistently say “up to 15%” when specifying a grape variety percentage, but in the English translation this becomes “about 15%”.  More on Sakpatenti and its website later.

Note also that in some places the information in my table differ may differ from other published summaries of the PDO. The obvious example is the entry for Kakheti, for which the PDO rules changed at some point. I do not remember the change being announced, but in 2010 it was a PDO for dry white wines only; now it is a lot broader. I am not sure about the reason for all the discrepancies, but I believe my version to be correct at the time of writing.

Anyway, now for a bit of background, and how to get further information…

While Georgia is not part of the EU, it has an equivalent system to regulate and protect its wines, and has chosen to use EU terminology. So initially, back in 2005, it called the protected categories Appellations of Origin. Now they are Protected Designations of Origin, though you will still see the older term in some official contexts. Incidentally, following usage in the EU, Georgia also has PDOs for goods other than wine. Additionally, there is protection through Geographical Indications for other goods, but currently not for wine.

Sakpatenti, the National Intellectual Property Center of Georgia, is the body responsible for registering PDOs, and applications for new ones must be made to Sakpatenti. Registration of a PDO confers legal protection within Georgia, and Georgia seeks protection by treaty for its PDOs in foreign countries. The Sakpatenti website lists the Georgian GIs (here including PDOs) recognised abroad by treaty, and the foreign ones recognised by Georgia. Apparently, only the first 18 Georgian PDOs are currently recognised by the EU. They are the ones described in this Sakpatenti publication of 2010, and shown on the above map. Note that the PDO descriptions in this book are different to the ones referred to in my table, and are quite vague about aspects like mandated grape varieties.

For the definitive and up-to-date list of all Georgian PDOs and GIs (not just the wine ones), and the registration documents with details about each one, see the State Registry in English or in Georgian. The Georgian documents are the definitive versions, and some of the English translations are dodgy. So if in doubt, I would recommend running the Georgian through Google Translate to get a second opinion. It is not too difficult if you use the registration numbers, and document section numbers, to help you orient yourself in the Georgian space.

So far in this mini-series on Georgian PDOs, I have tried to stick to objective facts. But next time, I shall conclude my series with opinion.

Edit 22/02/22: Updated to add Kisi Magraani PDO, which was registered in May last year

Edit 08-09/11/23: Updated to add the PDOs Asuretuli Shala, Okami, Okureshis Usakhelouri and Zegaani, registered between 20/08/22 and 12/12/22. Additionally, I noticed that Sakpatenti have changed some older PDO documents. I’m not sure how big these changes were, but I have updated all the copies linked to from this page

Georgian wine PDOs – a quick guide

Most Georgian wines are marketed by grape variety and the reputation of the winemaker, so as far as the consumer is concerned the country’s PDOs (the equivalent of French Appellations) are often of little relevance. However, there are a few that you might come across in the UK, and here I briefly describe the four that immediately sprang to mind when I was thinking of compiling a shortlist. Later checking showed that they also happen to be the Georgian PDOs most readily available in the UK. And, as they were all in the first six PDOs to be registered, it seems that they were considered to be amongst the most important in Georgia.

These PDOs come from the regions of Kakheti and Racha, and the maps below show you immediately where those regions are within Georgia, but you need to click a few times to get to hi-res maps that show you the location of the PDOs.  The maps do not show physical geography, but it is worth noting that the Alazani river in Kakheti flows in a wide plain, while the Racha vineyard area is more mountainous.

Tsinandali PDO is named after a village in Kakheti, the region where the majority of Georgian wine comes from. This is a dry white (i.e. not orange) wine from the area around the village, made using the Rkatsiteli grape variety with up to 15% Kakhuri Mtsvane. Rkatsiteli is the most common Georgian grape variety, and Kakhuri Mtsvane is also quite popular, and sometimes simply called Mtsvane. The Tsinandali wines that make it to the UK are often relatively inexpensive, and I find them to be straightforward and refreshing. They could perhaps be compared to Chablis, though I would say Tsinandali is more aromatic. I would most naturally think of serving them with white fish.

Mukuzani PDO is also named after a Kakheti village, but this is a dry red wine, and made solely from Saperavi, the most common Georgian red grape. Saperavi wines are usually very dark, an almost opaque purple, and often have a dark and brooding taste profile to match, with smokey fruit. They can also have a fair whack of tannin. Beyond that though, I cannot say I have noticed anything distinctive specifically about the Saperavi from Mukuzani, though as with Tsinandali I have mainly tried cheaper examples imported into the UK. These are wines that can stand up to strong flavours – spices, and beef.

The final two PDOs in my shortlist are Kindzmarauli and Khvanchkara. Frankly, I think the only thing most UK wine drinkers need to know is that these are unfortified semi-sweet red wines, and thus are vini non grata (excuse my, er, Latin) because they do not conform to modern so-called good taste. But please do not dismiss them out of hand. Served at cellar temperature, I find the ones with good balancing acidity and/or tannins very attractive, and they can work very well with grilled meats. But do be aware that they are not sweet enough to function as pudding wines. Kindzmarauli is another Kakheti Saperavi wine, but from the other side of the Alazani river from Tsinandali and Mukuzani. Its name suggests that it comes from somewhere called Kindzmara, but I cannot find such a place on the map. Khvanchkara is made from two lesser-known varieties, Aleksandrouli and Mujuretuli, and is named after the village of Khvanchkara in Racha. Traditionally, these semi-sweet wines were made from ripe late-harvested grapes, which gave a fermentation that naturally arrested due to cold winter temperatures and high alcohol content. That method is sometimes still employed, but these days stopping the fermentation with artificial refrigeration is a lot more common.

So those are my top 4 Georgian PDOs. In my next post, I intend to take a more formal look at Georgian wine PDOs in general, and briefly mention all 24 of them, with links to their official registration documentation.