In one of our recent posts, we got a little geeky about blending: test tubes, barrels, percentages and Emiliano, our enologist, asking technical questions in Italian while we tried to look as though we understood everything he said.
That was the calm, cerebral part of winemaking. The part you can enjoy while peacefully contemplating the approaching vendemmia (harvest).
Then Niall started another project.
He calls it SHED.
This does not mean that he is losing weight or has enrolled in another cult-like fitness regime. No, he decided to dismantle one shed, relocate and rebuild it, and then construct an industrial SHED with a tent roof to serve as a temporary winemaking facility.
And why not?
All of this is possible because of what he describes as our “super-sexy temperature-control system”, otherwise known as an industrial chiller.
So, while some of this year’s wine will be made outside in a tent—sorry, in a temporary industrial SHED—we will be able to control the temperature of the tanks precisely.
This is actually better than making the wine inside the cantina without temperature control. The chiller itself cannot fit inside, so there is logic to all of this.
Apparently.
The project was moving along quite nicely. We had been planning for a mid-September start and were going to be ready.
Provided, of course, that your definition of “ready” includes urgently finding more pickers, moving several tanks, commissioning the SSTCS—you can work it out—and discovering what those little stainless-steel screwy things attached to the cooling rings are actually called.
Then the grapes decided that calm was overrated.
Clearly, they had not read this year’s vineyard protocol.
They got themselves ready at least ten days earlier than expected, which meant that harvest was suddenly upon us and moving towards Tenuta Golo less like the Regionale 19076—the “Jazz” train; don’t ask—and more like the Frecciarossa from Milan.
How do you know when the grapes are ready?
It is not simply a question of sugar, acidity, colour or the general condition of the fruit.
We walk the rows, collect berries from different parts of the vineyard, taste them and inspect the skins and seeds. We then send samples away for analysis.
Typically, we would discuss the findings.
What do we trust more: our senses or the laboratory results?
What does the weather forecast say? There is little point in starting if it is going to rain in two days’ time.
Do we have all the equipment we need?
More importantly, is any of it where it is supposed to be?
This year, there was no time for philosophical debate. We had to go—and go now.
Ready, Go, Steady!
Finding pickers is becoming harder every year. Thank goodness for the Indian community in Torrita di Siena, who have come to our rescue yet again.
We may also have to ask Marco to put down his spirit level and pick up a pair of scissors. He has been here for virtually all of 2026. It seems only fair that he should help with the harvest.
We cannot speak for the rest of Montepulciano, but Cervognano—and Via di Poggio Golo in particular—is buzzing with activity.
What more could a humble Tuscan farmer want than his or her two favorite subjects arriving at precisely the same time?
The weather.
And the harvest.
It is enough to make one burst into a five-word sentence.
At the time of writing, the vendemmia has started. Ready, Go, Steady!
The chiller is buzzing.
Some of the tanks are already full.
The temporary industrial SHED just about withstood a last-minute storm and is now tied down rather more securely than it was before.
And the reconstruction work on the villa continues.
No Marco in the vines just yet.
Next time, we hope to report that all the grapes are safely in, fermentation is proceeding slowly and steadily, and everybody is still speaking to one another.
Until then, please keep your fingers crossed, your rain dances cancelled and a bottle of Golo within easy reach.
Toodles,
Niall & Paari