There's a movement growing in Virginia vineyards.
There's no singular style. No "signature grape."
Just a community of artisans obsessed with expressing the character of their land.
For a wine that embodies the essence of a region where tradition and revolution go hand in hand.
You can learn a lot about our wine just by looking at a map. Virginia sits halfway between Europe and California, just below the Mason-Dixon Line. Our wines embody this unique position in the world. They are lush but structured; aromatic, expressive and beautifully balanced—blending the subtlety of the Old World with the boldness of the new. Like perfect French spoken with a slight southern drawl.
The story of Virginia wine (like the story of Virginia itself) is, in part, a tale of secondary characters from the Old World who learned to thrive in a new environment. Grape varieties like Viognier, Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot—relative obscurities and bit-players in Old World wine traditions—are taking center stage in Virginia.
Bordeaux-style red blends make up some of the most beloved and highly acclaimed wines coming out of the Commonwealth. While their blending percentages vary greatly across vineyards and vintages, the end products are consistently lush and layered—built to age but hard to resist right now.
Few people would approach a Chardonnay, Merlot or Cabernet Sauvignon expecting something new. Until you taste those from Virginia, which exhibit an elegance rarely seen in their West Coast counterparts.
America's oldest wine grape was born in Virginia. Some talented Virginia winemakers are working to restore Norton to its prominence as America's native grape.
Nothing expresses a "sense of place" like well-made wine. But over time, the expectations of the marketplace have stifled the poetry in the vineyard. Now, most American wine is owned by a handful of corporations pushing a predictable product with no sense of place, no story to tell. What's happening here is bigger than a drink. It's a way to reclaim our relationship with the land. It's a celebration of identity and independence from the tyranny of sameness. If you ask us, that's worth raising a glass to.