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$7.80The Story
Made from 75% Niellucciu and 25% Sciaccarellu, this classy rosé is remarkably fresh, pure, and focused, with a filtered-through-granite minerality — as well-suited to apéritifs as an al fresco summer feast.
Corsicans are no strangers to rugged landscapes and isolated areas, yet there is only one spot on the island that has earned the name of “Desert” among Corsicans. The Agriates Desert is a large, rugged, empty, and arid swath of land between the Cap Corse and Calvi on the northern end of the island. There are no cities nor towns, only one small paved road, and only one hamlet, with a dozen or so inhabitants. It’s swept year round with a hot and dry wind called the libecciu, and it’s been an empty area for nearly a century. The wind combined with the clay-granite soils makes growing anything here extremely laborious, with the vines requiring constant plowing to allow the roots to forage deep for water and nutrients.
Three generations ago, when Laurent Giacometti purchased a derelict, sprawling vineyard and estate in the middle of the Désert des Agriates, the previous owner handed him the keys and dryly told him, “Welcome to the village where it’s always raining somewhere else.” For centuries, agricultural plans and projects have failed spectacularly in this aptly named desert, and the Giacomettis struggled for many years as well. It took more than three decades of organic farming and persistence for their vines to learn to go deep, away from the parched and sea-salt-crusted surface.
Description
Made from 75% Niellucciu and 25% Sciaccarellu, this classy rosé is remarkably fresh, pure, and focused, with a filtered-through-granite minerality — as well-suited to apéritifs as an al fresco summer feast.
Corsicans are no strangers to rugged landscapes and isolated areas, yet there is only one spot on the island that has earned the name of “Desert” among Corsicans. The Agriates Desert is a large, rugged, empty, and arid swath of land between the Cap Corse and Calvi on the northern end of the island. There are no cities nor towns, only one small paved road, and only one hamlet, with a dozen or so inhabitants. It’s swept year round with a hot and dry wind called the libecciu, and it’s been an empty area for nearly a century. The wind combined with the clay-granite soils makes growing anything here extremely laborious, with the vines requiring constant plowing to allow the roots to forage deep for water and nutrients.
Three generations ago, when Laurent Giacometti purchased a derelict, sprawling vineyard and estate in the middle of the Désert des Agriates, the previous owner handed him the keys and dryly told him, “Welcome to the village where it’s always raining somewhere else.” For centuries, agricultural plans and projects have failed spectacularly in this aptly named desert, and the Giacomettis struggled for many years as well. It took more than three decades of organic farming and persistence for their vines to learn to go deep, away from the parched and sea-salt-crusted surface.
