Lisa Granik MW shares insights from Georgia’s emerging wine region.
While the Kakheti region is known for its modern Georgian wines, could the unique offerings from the vicinity of Tbilisi in Kartli be the next highlight in the country’s winemaking adventure?
A trip to the Caucasus nation of Georgia—particularly for wine enthusiasts—often involves a few days exploring the vibrant capital, Tbilisi, before moving eastwards over the mountains to Kakheti. This renowned region is famous for its amber (or orange) wines created through extended skin contact techniques, contributing to 70% of the nation’s wine production. However, many travelers are unaware that Tbilisi itself is situated at the heart of the unique Kartli wine region.
Historically known as “Iberia,” Kartli functioned as an independent kingdom from ancient times until the 18th century, and it is now ready to compete with its eastern neighbor in terms of quality and accessibility. While the capital city boasts vines and many residents maintain small wine cellars, called maranis, within their homes, the true vibrancy of the winemaking scene is found just a short drive from the city. Regardless of whether one travels north or south from Tbilisi, vineyards and notable wineries are less than an hour away. To the north lies the Ateni Gorge, recognized as Kartli’s first appellation as well as Georgia’s only area for sparkling wine. To the south, visitors can find the prehistoric settlement of Gadachrili Gora, which supports Georgia’s assertion of being the cradle of wine. Archaeologists there have discovered clay fragments and pottery indicating the presence of grapes and wine in the newly designated protected denomination of origin (PDO) known as Bolnisi. As Niko Chochishvili from Kapistoni proudly shares, “Kartli is covered with diverse terroirs that we are only just beginning to explore.”
The Likhi mountain range creates a natural barrier, shielding Kartli from the Imereti region to the west, while also mitigating the moist air rolling in from the Black Sea, thereby minimizing the likelihood of fungal issues. On the eastern flank, the Iori River and the Tsiv-Gombori mountain range separate Kartli from Kakheti, preventing that area’s warmer air and climate prone to hail from encroaching. Kartli is divided into two primary regions: Shida (Inner) Kartli, situated to the north of Tbilisi, encompasses the municipalities of Mtskheta, Gori, and Dzalisa, which was a Roman settlement from the 4th to the 1st centuries BCE. Kvemo (Lower) Kartli, located to the south, covers the lower basin of the Mtkvari River. This region is home to the historic wine town of Bolnisi and the ancient site of Dmanisi, where a hominid site dating back 1.8 million years can be found.
As Niko and I travel around Kartli, we explore small family-owned vineyard plots nestled among rolling hills or cascading down riverbanks. He gestures widely, remarking, “Everywhere you look, there used to be vineyards. There were also several large state cooperatives in Kartli that processed grapes from various regions when Georgia was still under Soviet rule.” Two Soviet-era “wine factories” that remain outside of Tbilisi are still operating today, providing a fascinating glimpse into 20th-century mass production. “The Soviets removed a lot of vineyards, replacing them with potatoes and vegetables,” Niko explains. “However, some individuals had a strong emotional connection to their land and either preserved the old vines or replanted local varieties after Georgia regained its independence in 1991.”
Niko is intimately familiar with the vineyards, having explored them repeatedly during his military service. Now retired, he can often be found tending to his vineyards, which are just a few kilometers from a visible Russian military base in southern Russia. Nearby, Tskhinvali, a historically multicultural town and once Georgian, has seen occupation by Russian forces since the 2008 conflict. For those considering a visit, it’s essential to know that the Russians have placed numerous signs in Georgian territory warning against crossing the borders. Ignoring these warnings can lead to serious consequences.
The terroirs of Kartli feature a remarkable range of diversity. Each vineyard is distinct, not only due to varying soil types but also differing altitudes. However, sun exposure plays a pivotal role in the quality of the vines. Niko observes that the most successful vineyards are often located on south-facing slopes near rivers, which benefit from excellent sunlight and airflow. This results in wines that exhibit an elegant structure and a lively essence. Wines from Kartli are generally fresh and medium-bodied, with moderate levels of alcohol and a delightful hint of minerality. Niko’s Kapistoni Shavkapito, a vibrant red wine known for its soft tannins and flavors of dark berries, pairs beautifully with mtsvadi, the traditional pork skewers grilled over dried grapevine cuttings. Another local variety, Asuretuli Shavi, named after Asureti village, is more robust, with heightened acidity and crisp tannins, offering a bouquet of violets, dark fruit, and blackcurrant on the palate.
“For years, I’ve been predicting that Kartli will emerge as a major contender in the wine world,” states Giorgi (Goga) Tevzadze from Tevza Winery. “Consumers are drawn to these lighter, fresher wines that burst with flavor.” With rich experience in the wine industry, Goga has worked on significant projects in Kakheti, and honed his skills during two years of graduate studies with Roger Boulton at UC Davis. His small family winery reflects inspirations from California, complemented by his initiative, Crush 525, which is the first custom-crush winery in Georgia.
To the northwest of Tbilisi, the road transitions from highway to village paths and finally into dirt trails where individual vineyard plots occupy the steep hillsides. In the quaint, 11th-century village of Ateni, Giorgi Revazashvili cultivates terraced plots of indigenous varieties—the white Goruli Mtsvane and Chinebuli, along with the red Tavkveri—some of which were planted by his grandfather, who passed on his knowledge of viticulture and winemaking. A crisp breeze flows through the pergola-trained vines, which grow to a height of about 5-6 feet. Giorgi’s modest marani, nestled into the mountainside, is a humble abode that feels far removed from the bustling capital. On that hillside, he seems to exist on a different wavelength, absorbed in his thoughts. For many Georgians, faith plays a vital role in their lives, and wine holds deep spiritual significance for him. When asked about his journey to becoming a winemaker, Giorgi replies, “It brings me closer to the Divine.”
Kartli showcases unique winemaking practices that differ significantly from those in Kakheti, not only due to varying grape varieties and growing conditions but also in their methods. A notable feature is the reduced skin contact during fermentation. “Our tradition was 80/20,” Giorgi explains. “We utilized 80% juice and 20% skins and stems, and the duration was only a few months. The specifics varied by vintage, ranging from one to three months, but it was shorter compared to Kakheti.” Likewise, at Samtavisi Marani, named after the local village, Mamuka Kikvadze states, “Our tradition involved 80% juice and 20% crushed grapes.”
Both Giorgi and Mamuka are part of the Natural Wine Association (NWA), a dedicated group of Georgian family winemakers focused on non-interventionist vineyard practices and wine production. Many members, including them, do not have formal winemaking training. Instead, they draw upon the knowledge of previous generations, often managing their family-owned plots. These winemakers prioritize traditional practices, accepting the potential risks of instability or slight imperfections in their wines. Although Mamuka lacks family support regarding vines or expertise, he embodies tradition through other avenues. He recently took over a new plot that has remained uncultivated and free of pesticides and herbicides for several years. His vineyard manager, who once led the local collective farm decades ago, brings invaluable knowledge about the land’s farming history and maintenance.
A distinctive winemaking method in Kartli involves fermenting white wines using the skins (and sometimes a small amount of stems) from black grapes. This technique is particularly linked to Khidistavi, where the white Goruli Mtsvane and Chinuri grapes are fermented on red Tavkveri skins. At Samtavisi, Mamuka has begun fermenting Chinuri on Shavkapito stems. “This is my rosé experiment,” he remarks playfully. Previously, he used 25% skins, but for the 2023 vintage, he opted for just 10%. Initial qvevri samples suggest a vibrant wine characterized by notes of pink grapefruit, subtle hints of red berries, and a refreshing mineral quality.
Château Mukhrani presents a distinct approach, being one of Georgia’s mid-sized and highly professional wineries, consistently recognized for crafting some of the finest wines in Kartli. Since the 19th century, Georgia has embraced French expertise and winemaking practices, and Mukhrani epitomizes this legacy. The winery’s CEO and chief winemaker, Patrick Honnef, who was born and educated in Germany, has experience working with Stéphane Derenoncourt in Bordeaux. While he maintains a small vineyard in the Castillon Côtes de Bordeaux, in Georgia, he is among the few actively exploring the terroir. “We’re striving to understand this land and its varieties, exploring their potential,” he notes. He focuses on identifying the ‘mineral thread’ and ‘tension’ in white varieties, investigating how they vary across different soils and vinification methods. While Honnef applies a Western analytical lens, his team embodies Georgian tradition. “Kartli presents very different circumstances compared to Kakheti,” he remarks. “It has a cooler climate, with our growing season lagging behind both in spring and during the harvest. The soils here are lighter. I was captivated by a flyover of the property when I was invited to work in Georgia; I could see the clay and sandy soils surrounding the winery, then the limestone slopes in the village of Mukhrani. I thought, ‘Wow—I can really achieve something here.’”
The writers who documented Georgian vineyards during the 19th and 20th centuries left many aspects of Kartli unexplained. With limited historical references, Honnef is tenacious in his quest to comprehend the Kartli grape varieties, along with others that may thrive in the Mukhrani vineyards—like Ojaleshi, which is linked to the western area of Samegrelo. “Every year, we strive to fully express our varieties and vineyards. We ask ourselves which varieties in what vintages and vineyards are best suited for stainless steel, for cask, for qvevri, and for concrete egg. These are the inquiries we are pursuing.” Niko Chochishvili from Kapistoni, who exclusively vinifies in qvevri, concurs that gaps remain in our understanding of the region: “During the Soviet era, grapes were typically used for mass-produced sparkling wines if they weren’t being used for vegetable planting, so it is now our responsibility to discover how to create quality wines here.”
Historically, much of the grape harvest in Kartli over the last century was indeed earmarked for the off-dry (and often off-flavored) “Soviet Champagne.” However, today, under the expertise of Bastien Warskotte at Ori Marani, these grapes are being transformed into quality sparkling wines. Originally from Reims, Bastien has crafted wine in places like France, South Africa, Canada, and various global locations before finding love with a Georgian woman. Ori Marani, situated in the village of Igoeti, was their initial venture together.
While visiting Bastien, we depart from the paved road; the vehicle meanders up a twisting path leading to his home and cellar, which is perched high on the hillside. He hurriedly moves around his cellar, drawing samples from barrels filled with various grape types sourced from across Georgia. “You know Champagne,” he chuckles. “We blend.” As he explores the creation of wines from these Georgian varieties, he is also discovering his preferences and the specific regions where they flourish. The base wines may ferment in tanks, barrels, or qvevri, after which he blends them and decides how long they ought to age on the lees. All Ori Marani wines embody the finesse and brioche-like flavors akin to Champagne, yet the Georgian grapes add subtle notes of musk, earthiness, and a broader complexity.
Many believe it was Iago Bitarishvili who truly put Kartli—and specifically his own village of Chardakhi—on the international wine stage. He possesses a contagious laughter, but there is no shortage of resolve beneath it. “I am driven by the goals I set for myself. To be the first to produce bottled wine in an environment where everyone else was using jugs; to cultivate organically; to craft natural wine; to export my creations—and so forth.” Iago primarily concentrates on the local Chinuri grape, which he processes in qvevri, some with skins and others with no skin contact. “Producing wine without skins is more complex. Since I don’t utilize commercial yeast, we rely on the yeast present on the skins for fermentation. Thus, in certain years, the no-skin-contact wine may have a hint of sweetness.” Nevertheless, his Chinuri wines showcase the distinctive aromas and flavors of quince. As a founding member of the Natural Wine Association and the New Wine Festival (an annual spring event showcasing new vintages), Iago has achieved such prominence that his limited production is now strictly allocated.
Iago has been making efforts to gradually boost production, but the circumstances have not been favorable. Firstly, the weather has not cooperated: The first winter following the planting of a new vineyard led to frost that destroyed 80% of the vines. Secondly, climate change has further complicated matters: “It never snows anymore,” he remarks. Recently, he found himself in a position where he had to transport water from the river below to aid some vines suffering from significant water stress. Lastly, the long-standing issue of dishonest dealings has left its mark: Many of the grapes he purchased were not even the Chinuri variety he requested, but rather hybrids and other table grapes that he ultimately had to remove.
As one travels south from Shida Kartli and Tbilisi towards Kvemo Kartli, the drive to Bolnisi is quite bumpy, lined with spirited Azerbaijani plumbing and construction supply shops along the way. Historically, the area was populated by Georgians, Armenians, and Arabs during medieval times, but this changed in the 19th century when the Russian imperial government invited Swabian settlers escaping religious persecution; they renamed Bolnisi to Katharinenfeld. (The name changed back to Bolnisi in 1943.) Although most of the Swabian Germans were forcibly relocated to Siberia during World War II, their influence is still evident, especially in the small cellars of their homes and the large wooden vats they utilized for winemaking.
The Bolnisi appellation, one of Georgia’s newer PDOs, spreads across both banks of the Mashavera River at elevations ranging between 1,800 and 2,600 feet (550–800 meters). The western part of the appellation is situated on the volcanic Javakheti Plateau. Moving eastward, the landscape features volcanic rocks, limestone, and sandstone, with alluvial soil becoming dominant as one approaches the river. Regardless of the soil type, “It’s the winds from two different canyons that truly characterize the wines and enhance their aromatic profiles,” explains Guram Avqopashvili, the unofficial representative for the family wineries in the region. Most of the vineyards are located on the right bank of the Mashavera, with the steep vineyards in the villages of Khatissopeli (right bank) and Ratevani (left bank) already recognized as premier sites of the appellation.
“We’re primarily enthusiasts,” admits Guram, who runs a small winery with his brother Giorgi (Brothers’ Cellar). “However, we believe we have one of the most vibrant regions in Georgia, featuring 13 distinct terroirs. A decade ago, there were only a few wineries and numerous abandoned vineyard terraces, but now we have a multitude of small family wineries producing wines from Kartli’s indigenous varieties, such as Danakharuli, Shavkapito, and Tavkveri. Additionally, we see influences from other Georgian regions. In the 1990s, many Svans from Svaneti, in Georgia’s mountainous northwest, migrated here, bringing along their own grape varieties (including the red Mujuretuli) and their unique stone towers, reminiscent of those in Tuscany’s San Gimignano.”
The evolution of winemaking in Georgia has ushered in a notable increase in professionalism. “There’s a common belief among Georgians that simply being Georgian means they understand winemaking,” comments Niko with a hint of irony. Father Grigor from Bolnisi’s Zedashe Monastery reflects, “It became clear to us that if we aimed to market our wines, we needed to invest in winemaking education, so we enrolled in distance learning courses.” Wines that were once used solely for religious and ceremonial purposes now exhibit both purity and vibrancy. At Shalos Cellar, Tornike Sherazadishvili pursued academic studies in viticulture to honor his grandfather’s vineyard. “I employ skin contact not just because it’s part of our heritage; I’m aware that obtaining pear notes from the skins leads to a wine that encapsulates the essence of the fruit.”
RMG, a local mining entity, has laid the groundwork for regional development in Bolnisi, including a must-see local museum showcasing artifacts uncovered during their excavations, which narrate Bolnisi’s history and cultural evolution from ancient times to today. In a nation frequently hosting various “wine festivals” each month, RMG also backs Bolnisi’s own wine festivals and promotional endeavors. The atmosphere is filled with traditional music, and dancers bring energy to the stage while consumers and producers mingle to sample the latest wines alongside regional delicacies such as churchkhela (walnuts or hazelnuts coated in a blend of grape juice and flour and dried—the original energy bar of soldiers and mountaineers) or nemtsuri, a robust, smoked jerky rooted in German tradition, which pairs exquisitely with red wines.
As we drive northwest back to Tbilisi, we come across Asureti, another village established by German settlers. From the hill of Beka Gotsadze’s vineyards overlooking the Asuretiskhevi River gorge, one can view the stone facade of a Swabian winery. In a predominantly barren landscape marked by neglected vineyards and wispy bushes, Beka—who shifted from architecture to winemaking—has cultivated 15 indigenous varietals from both eastern and western Georgia in volcanic, dense clay-loam soils scattered with basalt stones. His vineyard holds Demeter certification, and he strictly adheres to the “natural” winemaking philosophy. This commitment, however, has not stifled Beka’s innovative spirit. Drawing from his experience in heating system design, he has installed radiant heating tubes around his qvevri. By circulating cold water to manage fermentation temperatures, he heats the water, which can then be used to fill his swimming pool. Employing warm water in reverse stimulates malolactic fermentation.
“What’s old tends to renew itself,” Niko notes. Primarily preserved through oral tradition and now interpreted through a contemporary lens, Kartli’s winemaking heritage is well-positioned to produce some of Georgia’s finest wines. Winemakers including Chochishvili, Honnef, and Kikvadze are committed to setting their wines apart from those of their eastern neighbors in Kakheti—crafting wines that are lighter and more agile, representing their unique terroir and varietals. The moment for Kartli’s emergence is on the horizon, fueled by the passion and ambition of its winemakers. Or perhaps, it may have already arrived…