The Pottarello is a slow, intimate pleasure—one meant to be savored alone, behind closed doors, where there’s no need to hold back. From the first pour, its deep color catches the light like flushed, heated skin, promising something intense. The Sangiovese, hand-selected from the most petite, delicate berries, releases flavors that stain the tongue, dark and concentrated, while regular punch-downs in the cellar keep the juice and skins in a constant, feverish embrace.
Then comes the wait—twelve months in used French Tonneau, a slow, patient build-up, followed by nine more months of rest. It teases, it lingers, it knows exactly when to pull away before giving you everything. Fresh berry fruit glides over the palate, teasing with hints of spice, while acidity and tannins play off each other in a back-and-forth tension that can only be described as exquisite torment. And when the finish finally comes—long, drawn-out, and utterly satisfying—you’ll find yourself breathless, already reaching for another sip.
No pairing necessary. Just you, the bottle, and an evening of pure indulgence.
