When João Correia, inGamba’s founder, first found himself in Lecchi in Chianti, one of the first spots he visited was the nearby Castello di Ama vineyard, where he fell in love with the spirit, the people, and of course, the wine. Now, he’s celebrating them for their recent recognition by Wine Spectator.
Some places stay with you long after you leave. For me, one of them sits on a quiet hilltop in Chianti, at the end of a white road I first rode many years ago.
Castello di Ama has been part of my life for 27 years. I came for the wine and stayed for the people. Marco Pallanti and Lorenza Sebasti have become family.
Last month in New York, Wine Spectator ranked Ama’s San Lorenzo 2021 number nine in its Top 100, once again placing Ama among the ten best wines in the world. Marco went on stage to accept it. He could have talked about the vintage, the harvest, the cellar. He chose instead to talk about why they make wine at all.
His answer was simple: “to be faithful.”
Faithful to a place. Faithful to the grapes that belong there. Faithful to an identity they inherited rather than invented.
Marco said that quality matters, but on its own, it is not the goal. Today, plenty of wine is technically excellent. What makes a bottle unforgettable is that it carries the landscape, the history and the people it came from.
The line I keep coming back to as I re-read his speech is his wish to “allow the land to leave its signature on the wine.” Not the winemaker’s signature. The land’s.
Reading it, I thought of every road we ride.
We could build trips around the most famous climbs and the most expensive hotels and call it luxury. Some do. That has never been what inGamba is for. A great day on the bike in Italy or Portugal is not ours to invent. It already exists, in the roads, the family kitchens, the mechanics and soigneurs and cooks who have lived there for generations. Our job is to protect it, and to hand it to you without leaving too many of our own fingerprints on it.
Marco ended with a thought that I loved. He said that once the cork is pulled, his work is done, and the wine’s work begins. He hopes whoever pours it senses the place it came from, even for a moment. You can read his full speech here.
That is exactly how I feel at the end of every trip. When you roll back into the hotel on the last evening, our work is finished. What you carry home is the place and the people.
So the next time you open a bottle of San Lorenzo, think of a small hill in Chianti and a family that has spent its life listening to it. And if you would like to ride up that white road yourself, join us in Tuscany in 2027.
Congratulations, Marco and Lorenza. Thank you for staying faithful.
