We make wines out of passion and it is precisely this passion
that we want to tell and have people tell ...

Each wine is a story. Story of real life, story of children who pressed grapes in large vats, story of young boys who, in front of the press, were waiting for the first must to taste its goodness. Each wine is a story. A story of harvests and happy people singing, a story of frost on the grapes in the morning. Each bottle produced is the story of those who have marked my story.

Il Rosato del Salento e i rosati di Malacari

The Rosato del Salento and the rosé wines from Malacari

The Rosato del Salento and the rosé wines from Malacari
Nzinu… un vino che parla di porti sicuri e di mete “infinite”

Nzinu ... a wine that speaks of safe harbors and "infinite" destinations

Nzinu ... a wine that speaks of safe harbors and "infinite" destinations
“Priesciu”… la storia “dietro” al vino

“Priesciu”… the story “behind” the wine

“Priesciu”… the story “behind” the wine
Giovanni Malacari, il racconto del Salento in una bottiglia

Giovanni Malacari, the story of Salento in a bottle

Giovanni Malacari, the story of Salento in a bottle
“Fiatumia”… respiro mio

“Fiatumia”… my breath

“Fiatumia”… my breath
Il Rosato del Salento e i rosati di Malacari

The Rosato del Salento and the rosé wines from Malacari

The Rosato del Salento and the rosé wines from Malacari

At the age of 6 my maternal grandfather put me in a large black vat for the crushing of the freshly harvested grapes and so up to the age of 16 I was the official employee of the crushing of the grapes and then went up in grade and moved to the "perforata ”, The press with which, by rotating with the arms along a screw axis, the grapes were pressed and the must collected in a tank below. My grandmother made me eat grapes with dew on them because it was good for the intestine, she was obsessed with this. As soon as we arrived in the countryside, the grapes were harvested with scissors and then everyone in the cellar-house to make wine. In almost half a hectare we had malvasia, primitivo, negroamaro and pink grapes, my grandfather called it that. He, my grandfather, produced wine only for the family, his eight children must not lack wine. Up to the age of 20 my life had this luck, making wine.