Wines from the smaller islands: the Mediterranean’s resilience in a glass
There are wines that do more than simply tell the story of a region. They hold it within them. They preserve it. They bring it to life in the glass with the force of the wind, the breath of the sea, the memory of the stone, and the stubborn patience of those who have chosen to stay.
The wines of the smaller Mediterranean islands belong to this rare category. They are not merely oenological expressions, but living fragments of landscape, culture, and resilience. They are born in places where viticulture is never easy, where every row of vines is a conquest and every harvest carries with it the weight of toil, solitude, and beauty.
The island is a world unto itself. It has clear boundaries, its own light, and its own unique silences. It is land surrounded by the sea, but also memory surrounded by time. Here the vine has learned to adapt to the salt air, the winds, the volcanic soils, the granite rocks, and the rugged terraces. It has learned to survive where elsewhere it would have been easier to give up.
And it is precisely from this difficulty that authenticity is born.
An ideal archipelago, made up of different languages, memories, winds, and grape varieties. Each island has its own voice. Some speak through the minerality of volcanic soils, others through the salty vigor of vineyards overlooking the sea, and still others through the ancient sweetness of sun-dried grapes. In each, however, wine becomes more than a product: it becomes a testament.
The project dedicated to the wines of the smaller islands, promoted by Proposta Vini, traverses some of the most fascinating small islands in the Mediterranean: Ibiza, Porquerolles, the Venetian Lagoon, Isola del Giglio, Elba, Ponza, Ventotene, Ischia, Capri, San Pietro, Salina, Ustica, Pantelleria, Hvar, Kefalonia, Milos, Limnos, Samos, and Santorini.
It is a geographical journey, but above all a human one. Because behind every bottle there is a community, a family, a choice that goes against the grain. There are those who have reclaimed abandoned vineyards, those who have given a voice to ancient grape varieties, and those who continue to work in places where nature demands respect even before expertise.
As Gianpaolo Girardi, founder of Proposta Vini, recalls “By the term ‘Minor Islands,’ we mean small Mediterranean islands where, from the highest point, you can see the entire coastline,” explains the founder of Proposta Vini, “these small islands have often retained their primordial character through the passage of time, preserving ancient grape varieties and traditional viticultural techniques; they are truly one-of-a-kind realities.”
Producing wine in these lands requires hard work, dedication, and a deep understanding of the environment. The wines of the Minor Islands are the result of the “ingenious industriousness” of the islander, forced by nature to make do with what the land offers, transforming limitations into assets. The result is authentic, intense wines, rich in Mediterranean aromas.
Isola del Giglio: Ansonica Born of Hard Work
On Isola del Giglio, Simone and Desy Ghelli have chosen to bring the vine back where neglect had taken hold. Their winery, Castellari, cultivates just 1.2 hectares of entirely terraced vineyards, dedicated to Ansonica.
Here the landscape is austere and luminous. Giglio is a granite island, bathed by the Tyrrhenian Sea, with vines climbing slopes of up to 30–40%, often sheer drops over the sea. In such a place, cultivating vines means accepting a daily challenge. Every action requires attention, time, and endurance.
Ansonica Melù is born from this essential and courageous viticulture.
It is a rare wine, produced in very limited quantities, between 2,000 and 3,000 bottles a year. In the glass, it has the color of ripe gold, brilliant and sunny. On the nose, it evokes the Mediterranean scrub, sage, and chamomile. On the palate, it is fresh, savory, and direct, with that surprising drinkability that belongs to sincere wines.
It is a wine that does not seek special effects. It tells the story of the island as it is: rugged, luminous, and vertical. It tastes of the sea, of rock, of hands that have never stopped working.
It pairs beautifully with pork and with arista al latte alle erbe aromatiche, a traditional Tuscan dish capable of complementing its savory depth.
Ustica: The Zibibbo That Brings the Sun Into Its Sweetness
In Ustica, Hibiscus is a small winery deeply rooted in the island. It is the only winery to carry out the entire production process on its own land in Ustica, from cultivation to winemaking.
Ustica is the exposed peak of an underwater volcano. An island of about 800 hectares, north of Palermo, shaped by ancient fire and the sea. Here, the volcanic soil, the light, the saltiness, and the wind shape the character of the wines, making them intense, mineral, and Mediterranean.
Margherita Longo and Vito Barbera live on the island year-round with their family. They tend three hectares of vineyards distributed across small plots between Tramontana and Ponente. Theirs is a viticulture of presence, not of passing through. A lifestyle choice even before a productive one.
The Zibibbo Passito Zhabib is made from grapes grown between Contrada Spalmatore and Contrada Tramontana. Zibibbo, a variety historically present on Ustica, finds a particularly intense expression here: aromatic, briny, sunny.
Zhabib is a meditation wine, but not static. It possesses the sweetness of dried figs, almonds, and honey, yet retains freshness and balance. It is rich without being excessive, enveloping without becoming heavy. It evokes the image of the sun slowly drying the grapes, the patience of waiting, and sweetness as a form of depth.
It pairs beautifully with classic Sicilian pastries, from cannoli to cassata, but also offers an intriguing pairing with blue-veined or spicy cheeses, such as Piacentinu Ennese, a Sicilian Pecorino DOP enriched with saffron.
Ventotene: The Wine of Exile and Rebirth
Ventotene is a small volcanic island situated between Lazio and Campania. Covering just 1.9 square kilometers, it embodies one of the most vivid images of Mediterranean island viticulture. It is a small island, yet rich in history, wind, and memory.
In 2013, Luigi Sportiello chose to revive viticulture on the island after decades of neglect. His winery, Candidaterra, is a two-hectare family-run operation, cultivated with respect for the environment and the regulations of the Ventotene and Santo Stefano Nature Reserve.
Here, the vines grow between 30 and 50 meters above sea level, on volcanic soils shaped by the constant presence of the sea breeze. It is not just agriculture: it is the recovery of an interrupted history, the restoration of an agricultural identity to a place that risked losing it.
Pandataria Il Vino del Confino is made from Falanghina, Fiano, and Greco, three Campania grape varieties that take on a distinctly maritime character in Ventotene. The name evokes the island’s ancient designation and its history as a place of exile, transforming memory into an oenological narrative.
Production is extremely limited, about 500 bottles. In the glass, the wine is clear, elegant, and precise. The nose reveals aromatic herbs, peach, and citrus. On the palate, it is fresh, mineral, savory, with a subtle complexity that speaks of volcano, sea, and wind.
It is a wine that moves you with its restraint. It does not raise its voice, but it lingers. Like certain islands. Like certain stories.
A Mediterranean of Islands, Vineyards, and Memories
The true value of these wines lies not only in their rarity, but in their ability to tell the story of a Mediterranean that remains authentic. Ibiza, Porquerolles, the Venetian Lagoon, Elba, Ponza, Ischia, Capri, San Pietro, Salina, Pantelleria, Hvar, Kefalonia, Milos, Limnos, Samos, Santorini: each island adds a nuance to this collective narrative.
The value of a one-of-a-kind wine
The wines of the smaller islands are not just any wines. They are wines that embody an extreme yet precious condition: that of isolation transformed into identity.
Each bottle tells of a fragile balance between nature and humanity, between limitation and possibility, between memory and the future. It tells of communities that have resisted depopulation, hardship, and geographical marginalization. It tells of vineyards clinging to the rock, rows battered by the wind, grapes ripened under a different light.
In an age when everything tends to look alike, these wines, on the other hand, preserve the power of uniqueness. They are one-of-a-kind because the islands they come from are one-of-a-kind. And perhaps their deepest charm lies precisely here: in their ability to make us feel, with a single sip, that the Mediterranean is not just a sea.
It is a liquid memory.
It is the ancient breath of those who have learned to live between the land and the horizon.
