Of late, I’ve noticed an uptick in interest in Chianti Classico. And not the rock bottom, straw-covered bottles that dominate the curlicue culture of TikTok and YouTube. For one, while in my local Italian grocery store — where I spend time and occasionally offer help to hurried and befuddled guests — we always seem to end up right in front of the Chianti section, of which there is a plethora of choices. It can seem confusing to the point where someone just grabs a nearby bottle of Montepulciano d’Abruzzo and heads for the Italian sausage counter. I get it. It can be overwhelming.
Something Eric Asimov wrote recently in his column, The Pour, in the NY Times — How to Find Great Values in Wine, April 2, 2026:
“Good producers from Chianti Classico are making beautiful wines. Prices might begin at $30 to $50, but these are versatile wines, pleasurable now but with the potential to age and evolve. Compared with similarly priced bottles from elsewhere, I think they can be excellent values.”
This isn’t the first time he’s mentioned Chianti Classico — it seems to be a recurring motif in his reporting. I followed links on the column, down a rabbit hole. He’s been on this beat since at least 2019, finding in these wines a “lightness, purity and eloquence” that “sets them apart.”
A few days passed and I was putzing around in my dark room, where I store bottled water and some wine queued up for soon-to-be consumption. I pulled out a bottle of 2020 Chianti Classico from Podere Campriano. It had been resting for a month or so, and I was in the mood for red wine. We were having reverse-seared salmon from Norway, slathered in a fig balsamic glaze — one of our go-to’s during the week.
What started out as a random choice for an evening meal turned into a multi-day wine and food comparison, ranging from Texas smoked BBQ brisket and turkey, to leftover Ethiopian Doro Wat (chicken and onion dish), and finalizing with a small bowl of organically grown raisins covered in dark chocolate. Yeah, I’m one of those — he likes red wine with chocolate — type guys.
This wine, the Campriano, was totally unexpected in the impression it gave. It was perfect for me. The wine was ready to drink, a little age on it, but not too much. The balance was fantastic. The flavors were integrated. There was savory, there was fruit. The smell and feel of Tuscany was properly embedded in the wine. It had a mellow finish. It was dry, not tannic. Not brawny, not muscular. Like I said, it was perfect. It played well with all the foods, and over the period of several days, it kept giving pleasure, amply displaying the “lightness, purity and eloquence” that Eric mentioned.
This isn’t a review. This isn’t me trying to find something to write about for my weekly blog. This was a wine that got my attention and the world who comes to read what I write should take notice. It’s not an inexpensive wine — it hovers around the $30 retail price — and I thought to tell my local Italian store, when they get it, to put it in the Brunello section, not the Chianti one. Why? Well, it punches above its weight class in terms of what it delivers (not because it is a massive red wine) and, I don’t know, just seemed like something to do for the heck of it.
That’s my take on things. And thanks to my compadre in NY for “reminding” us about Chianti Classico.
© words and photos by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy



