Wine as a Passport: Why the Mediterranean Still Calls Me Back
By Jamie Knee, Petite Wine Traveler
Dear friends,
Welcome back to another beautiful, dreamy Sunday.
Some places begin calling long before you arrive. For me, the Mediterranean always does.
This summer, I’ll be returning to the Mediterranean, tracing that feeling by sea, from Rome and Porto Ercole to Corsica, Ponza, Amalfi, Capri, Sicily, and Malta. And already, before the first suitcase is zipped, I find myself thinking about the wines. Not only what I’ll drink, but how each one will carry its own version of the sea, the sun, the table, and the place itself.
That is what I love so much about Mediterranean wine. It does not simply refresh. It evokes.
In coastal Lazio, where my journey begins near Rome, I’ll be thinking of Bellone, one of the region’s historic white grapes, and of Cesanese, Lazio’s signature red. Bellone, especially near the coast, can be bright and saline, with citrus and a lovely sea touched freshness, while Cesanese brings spice and red fruit in a softer, more Roman register. Bellone feels made for fried seafood, little plates of anchovies, and lunches that begin with olive oil and end with espresso.
Then comes Porto Ercole, where Tuscany softens into Maremma and the wines begin to feel wilder and more windswept. This is where I want Ansonica dell’Argentario, with its Mediterranean herbs and sunlit saline edge, and of course Morellino di Scansano, the coastal Tuscan Sangiovese that feels a little more relaxed than its inland cousins. Ansonica is beautiful with grilled fish and shellfish, while Morellino belongs beside roasted meats, pappardelle, or a dinner that stretches happily into the night.
In Bonifacio, Corsica, I know I’ll be looking for Vermentino and Sciaccarellu. Corsica’s Vermentino is one of those wines that seems to hold the island’s wind and stone in the glass, while Sciaccarellu has that lifted, fragrant, sun warmed red fruit quality that makes it perfect for summer. Corsica, to me, feels like one of the Mediterranean’s most stylish secrets, and its wines carry that same quiet seduction. I would want them with charcuterie, grilled lamb, local cheeses, and long lunches with a view of the water.
By the time I reach Amalfi and Capri, I know I’ll be craving the whites of Campania. The Amalfi Coast has its own local grapes, including Fenile, Ginestra, Pepella, and Ripoli, grown on those dramatic terraced slopes above the sea. But more broadly, Campania also gives us the glorious trio of Falanghina, Fiano, and Greco, all of which feel at home in this part of Italy. These are wines for lemon scented seafood, crudo, mozzarella, zucchini flowers, and pasta that tastes like summer itself. On Capri, I’ll happily follow the same instinct: something cold, mineral, citrusy, and unmistakably southern.
And then, of course, Taormina and Etna.
Etna is one of the Mediterranean wine worlds I find most magnetic. Here, it is all about Carricante for whites and Nerello Mascalese for reds, with volcanic soils doing what volcanic soils do so beautifully: giving the wines tension, lift, and a sense of place you can almost feel physically. Etna wines always seem to carry both fire and elegance at once. Carricante is exactly what I want with seafood and sun, while Nerello Mascalese belongs with grilled tuna, eggplant, mushrooms, and twilight.
And finally, Valletta, Malta, where I’ll be hoping to taste the island’s own native grapes, especially Girgentina and Gellewza. Malta may be smaller in wine terms than the regions around it, but that only makes it more appealing to me. I am always interested in wines that still feel tied closely to the identity of place, and islands know how to do that beautifully. In Malta, I imagine the wines beside rabbit, seafood, tomatoes, capers, and the kind of table where everyone lingers.
(I should note that Malta’s wines can be a little harder to find than some of the others on this route, so part of the pleasure there will be the discovery itself.)
That, really, is what I am longing for most.
Not only the destinations, though they are beautiful. Not only the sea, though I will never stop being seduced by that particular blue. But the way each place gathers itself at the table. The way wine becomes one more expression of light, land, language, and local life.
The Mediterranean keeps calling me back because it understands that travel is not only about movement. It is about rhythm. It is about the pace of lunch, the breeze at aperitivo, the fish brought whole to the table, the herbs, the lemons, the chilled glass placed in your hand at exactly the right moment.
And perhaps that is why Mediterranean wine feels so transportive. It is not merely regional. It is atmospheric. That is a passport worth following.
Until next Sunday,
may your glass continue to guide you,
your curiosity remain wide open,
and your travels be filled with beauty.
With love from the road, xo
Jamie Knee
I write, speak, and present for the wine and travel world, partnering with destinations, wineries, and hospitality brands to tell stories that bring people closer to place through culture, beauty, and the glass.