Turquoise waters, white sand beaches, and heaping plates of seafood pasta probably come to mind when you think of Sardinia. But the island, which has the surface area of New Hampshire and boasts over one thousand miles of pristine coastline, shows a different face as soon as you head inland. With peaks reaching as high as 6,000 feet, its interior is remarkably mountainous—you’ll even find a ski resort. The shellfish served just an hour away is replaced by generous salumi platters, hearty stuffed pastas, gamey roasted meats, and all manner of flavorsome sheep’s milk cheeses.
     To complement the local fare, wines made in these parts are similarly robust. Cannonau takes center stage, and nowhere on the island does the grape reach greater heights than in the village of Mamoiada. While summer days can reach scorching highs, the cool nights at elevation allow for a slow ripening resulting in rich, concentrated wines with sumptuous flavors and a welcome freshness.
     Giovanni Montisci (pictured on this month’s cover) is indisputably the king of Mamoiada, his place among the cult classics of Italian wine backed by a twenty-year track record of otherworldly hand-crafted Cannonau from ancient vines. His emblematic “Barrosu” bottling exudes the sweet, voluptuous fragrance of red berries ripened by long hours of direct sunshine, enhanced by herbal hints and delicate floral notes. It echoes the tightrope balance of colossal structure with featherweight touch found in great Barolo.
     Speaking of Barolo, years ago Montisci noticed a part of an old vineyard that did not look quite like the rest. Lo and behold, ten rows of Nebbiolo had been planted among the Cannonau vines. So was born the cheekily named “Barrolu,” a solitary barrel of Mediterranean mountain Nebbiolo offering a most unlikely—and utterly striking—new lens through which to experience Mamoiada’s granite terroir.
     Montisci also creates a small amount of profound, elegant rosato, which my dad has likened to the Tempier Bandol rosés he tasted early in his career. Fermented naturally, aged in barrel, and bottled unfiltered, it goes against all the rules of modern commercial rosé production. You won’t regret uncorking this pure nectar of freshly pressed Cannonau berries.