Ten years I wrote 5 Italian Wine Regions to Watch in 2015. Ten years - long enough to age a Barolo, to see a vineyard replanted reach maturity, to watch trends rise and fall like the tides at San Benedetto del Tronto. So what did I get right? What did I miss? And what does the murky sphere tell me now?
The Damage Report
Alto Piemonte - The Prophecy Fulfilled
I'll take a bow here. Boca, Gattinara, Ghemme, Sizzano – these names that once drew blank stares from sommeliers are now spoken with reverence. Roberto Conterno's purchase of Nervi-Conterno wasn't just an investment; it was a coronation. The cult producers I mentioned – Le Piane, Vallana, Monsecco, Ferrando – they're harder to find now, more expensive, more sought after. This one I got right, and it feels good.
The wines still deliver what I loved then: transparency, terroir, affordability (relatively speaking), and that Nebbiolo character that doesn't need the Barolo price tag to prove itself. If anything, I understated it. Alto Piemonte didn't just arrive – it conquered.
Lazio and Cesanese - The Slow Burn
Here's where humility sets in. Cesanese has gained ground, yes. Damiano Ciolli is still making beautiful wines, and the word is out among the cognoscenti. But did Lazio become the red wine destination I envisioned? Not quite. It remains an insider's game, a wine for those who seek rather than those who trend. Rome's food and wine culture has certainly evolved, but Cesanese hasn't stormed the gates the way I hoped.
Maybe I was early. Maybe I'm still right, just on a longer timeline. Or maybe some wines are meant to remain beautiful secrets, shared among friends over plates of rigatoni con la pajata rather than splashed across wine lists in Manhattan.
Sicily Beyond Etna - Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli
Gaetano di Carlo's Lù continues to prove that Sicily has more stories to tell than just Etna. Indigenous whites have found their audience, and the island's diversity remains compelling. But did non-Etna Sicily become the story I predicted? It's complicated. Etna itself became such a juggernaut that it overshadowed everything else on the island. The whites I championed are still there, still good, still reasonably priced. But the spotlight moved to the volcano, and everything else became supporting cast.
Chianti Rufina and Montespertoli - The Steady Hand
Selvapiana remains Selvapiana – timeless, reliable, a wine that makes me feel smarter than I am. Sonnino continues its quirky excellence. These weren't dramatic predictions, and they didn't produce dramatic results. They're the tortoise in a world obsessed with hares. Sometimes being right means being steady, and I'll take it.
Abruzzo Trebbiano - Through a Lens Lightly
Trebbiano d'Abruzzo is still affordable, still clean, still perfect with grilled fish. It didn't become trendy. It didn't need to. Perhaps this was less prediction than affirmation – a love letter to a wine that has always been there and always will be. The cult bottles (Valentini, Pepe) are now absurdly expensive, but the everyday expressions remain honest and true. Maybe that's victory enough.
Onward Through the Fog
So what does the crystal ball show now, in 2025? I see producers in unexpected places – Campania's whites beyond Fiano, the volcanic soils of Lazio's Castelli Romani being taken seriously for red wine, the continued rise of Alpine wines from Alto Adige and Valle d'Aosta as climate change reshapes what's possible.
I see a world where "natural" has become less dogma and more integrated, where small importers continue to unearth treasures, where affordability becomes increasingly precious as global wine prices march upward.
But mostly I see what I've always seen: Italy's endless capacity to surprise, to reward curiosity, to offer joy to those willing to look beyond the obvious.
Time to dust off the crystal ball here in flyover country and see what the future has in store. Stay tuned.
