Peppino And Nicola

Winemakers

Nicola and Peppino, the voices of wine in Orgosolo

Between hands full of soil and backs bent under the sun, the vineyard in Orgosolo wasn’t just an activity, it was life itself, flowing year after year.
Peppino and Nicola tell the story, two different faces of the same soul. Two friends whose paths crossed among the vines, during harvests, and through a shared dream.

“We were born with the vineyards,” says Peppino, founder of the Orgosa winery. “As kids, we’d go to school in the morning and head to the countryside in the evening.”

As an adult, he moved away, travelled, but the bond with his land pulled him back. “I came home when I’d had enough. Here, we’re deeply rooted.”

In 2002, he took over the family vineyards, replanted almost all of them, and chose a way of working that feels more like an act of loyalty. No chemicals, spontaneous fermentation, no filtration. Today, Peppino does almost everything himself. Around 7,000 bottles a year—handcrafted and honest.

Nicola came to wine from a different path.

It was 2007 when, together with a group of fellow townspeople, he asked: “Why not try making wine together?”

That’s how Cantine di Orgosolo was born: 16 members, about 45 hectares of vineyards, and a production of 30,000 bottles. Here too, wine is the result of hands, care, and tradition. “We strictly follow the production guidelines. Natural practices, both in the vineyard and in the cellar.”

And then there’s Granatza. White, early-ripening, forgotten for years.

“When I was a child,” Nicola recalls, “it was used for grafting because it ripened first. Then it ended up in some sweet wine, just so the grapes wouldn’t go to waste.” It was the only white grape in a sea of reds—mostly Cannonau, but also Monica and Carignano. Left on the sidelines, until someone finally decided to listen to it.

Almost a paradox: what once seemed marginal now reveals extraordinary potential. Like the old vineyards finding their voice again. Like that tough relationship with the land that, over time, turns into love. “As kids, we hated it,” Nicola and Peppino admit, “but then you grow up and realize that here, surrounded by nature and all these colors, it feels like another world.”

Today, Granatza is back in the bottle, with its golden hue, natural acidity, and unmistakable character. It’s a gem, with just a few thousand bottles produced across the region. Native to this corner of Sardinia, it’s the daughter of the land between Orgosolo, Oliena, and Mamoiada. A rugged and radiant territory of steep slopes, crumbled granite, and dry winds. “It has what it takes to rival Vermentino,” says Nicola, and he doesn’t say it lightly.

In Orgosolo, wine is both gesture and memory, but also vision. It’s Peppino, tending to every stage of his organic wine. It’s Nicola, looking ahead, determined to share Granatza with the world.

At the center is Orgosolo itself, a village mirrored in its vineyards. Ancient, stubborn, and generous. A generosity that lives in its people. “We’re known as the most hospitable village in Sardinia,” says Peppino. “It’s a hospitality rooted in our bond with the land, genuine and effortless.”

And while Cannonau remains the beating heart, Granatza is perhaps the most delicate whisper. A voice returning after years of silence, carrying with it the quiet beauty of what endures.