SOPHIA’S WINES
SICILY
Lunaria means "of the moon." Sergio named it for the sulfur miners who worked these hills - men who descended into darkness before dawn and emerged after dusk, the moon their only constant companion. They looked up to it for guidance, encouragement, consolation. This wine does the same thing.
Most white wines either smack you in the face with acid and citrus, or they fade into the background like wallpaper. Lunaria refuses to choose. It's got the brightness - lemon, peach, white flowers, that mineral limestone backbone that screams "I'm from somewhere specific." But it's also got weight. Body. The kind of presence that doesn't back down when you put food in front of it.
This isn't a white wine that's going to politely step aside and let your risotto have the spotlight. It's joining right in. Oysters, soft cheese, swordfish, grilled vegetables, pasta that needs a partner - this is your wine.
If you like Sancerre but wish it had more to say, or if you're tired of Gewurztraminer's perfume shop routine, try this. It's what happens when you give Catarratto to someone who actually gives a damn.
100% Catarratto | 2024 vintage | Casteltermini, Sicily
This isn't your grandmother's Nero d'Avola. Actually, it kind of is - if your grandmother grew up in the sulfur mines of central Sicily, watching rock salt sparkle under the sun like something precious.
Sergio named this wine Salgemma - rock salt - because that's what glints in the chalky mountainside where these vines dig in at 540-600 meters above sea level. Most Nero d'Avola comes from Mt. Etna, where the grape does what it's famous for: bold, smokey, tannic, cherries so dark they're almost black. Sergio's version says "screw that."
This is Nero gone bright and mineral. Light on its feet. Cherry, raspberry, pomegranate, flowers you didn't know existed. There's still that backbone of blackberry and earth - a reminder of what this grape is capable of - but it's wrapped in something electric, something that tastes like the mountain it came from.
If you've been looking for an everyday Burgundy replacement, you just found it. Pair it like you would a good Pinot: cheese, cured meats, pasta, eggplant, anything with mushrooms. Or just drink it because it's Tuesday and you're tired of ordinary wine.
100% Nero d'Avola | 2023 vintage | Casteltermini, Sicily
BURGUNDY
This is what Burgundy tastes like when a family has been making wine in the same cellar since 1926 and nobody's trying to impress anyone.
Jean-Marc Naudin's red Savigny comes from vines planted on the hillsides just north of Beaune - the kind of quiet, workmanlike village that produces wines sommeliers hoard but never talk about. The Naudin family ferments with indigenous yeasts, ages in old oak, and bottles when the wine is ready, not when the calendar says so.
What you get is Pinot Noir that actually tastes like something: red cherry, wild strawberry, wet earth, a hint of smoke from the stems they leave in during fermentation. There's structure here - it's wrapped in silk, not sandpaper. The kind of wine that makes you want to eat something: roasted chicken, mushroom risotto, a hunk of Comté that's been sitting on the counter too long.
This is Burgundy for people who want to drink Burgundy, not collect it. Pair it with anything you'd braise, roast, or smother in butter.
Or just drink it on a Tuesday because you're tired of pretending California Pinot is the same thing.
100% Pinot Noir | 2022 vintage | Savigny-lès-Beaune, Burgundy, France
If you've been burned by one too many buttery, oaky California Chardonnays that taste like someone melted a stick of Land O'Lakes into your glass, this is your redemption arc.
Jean-Marc Naudin's white Savigny is Burgundian Chardonnay in its purest form: lean, mineral, unapologetically tart. No new oak. No malolactic fermentation softening the edges. Just Chardonnay from 30-year-old vines on limestone and clay, fermented with wild yeast, aged in neutral barrels until it's ready to drink.
What you taste is orchard fruit - green apple, white peach, pear - cut with lemon zest and crushed stone. There's a saline quality that makes you want to pair it with oysters, even if you're eating leftover chicken. It's the kind of wine that demands food: roasted fish, creamy pasta, anything with herbs and butter. Or a wedge of aged Gruyère and some crusty bread, because sometimes that's dinner.
This is Chardonnay for people who think they hate Chardonnay. It's Burgundy for people who don't want to spend $80 on a bottle to find out what Burgundy is supposed to taste like.
100% Chardonnay | 2023 vintage | Savigny-lès-Beaune, Burgundy, France