What we are building — and what is within an hour

Parte I · L’Esperienza

Not a bottle you buy. A place you are invited into.

By hand, by table, by season. Everything here happens on the estate.

Some of it can only happen once a year.

Nothing on this page is bookable yet. The vineyard is three years old and we would rather build these properly than sell seats to something half-made. Dates open first to the people on the letters list.

The parcel freshly opened with planting lines run across it under a wide sky — The ground opened and the lines run, three days before the vines went in.

Parte II · Il Cantiere

2023 — 2026

Three years, mostly by hand.

A young man steadying a wooden post while it is driven into the ground, mountains behind — February 2025. Posts driven one at a time, by whoever turned up.

There was no groundbreaking. There was a caravan, a borrowed truck, and a winter’s worth of weekends.

The first year went on clearing, and on arguing with the soil — where the water sat, where the cold came down off the Cilento at night, which corners the sun left last. The second year is the one in these photographs. February 2025: the ground opened, the lines run, the posts driven one at a time by whoever turned up. Family, mostly. Friends who thought they were coming for lunch. Nobody was paid.

The third year was the dull part, which is the part that decides everything. Guards on. Drip line in. A cover crop sown between the rows to hold the soil through the winter rain. Pruning in the cold. Waiting.

What follows is not a marketing shoot. It is a phone in a muddy pocket, passed around a field over three days, and it is the most honest record of this place we have.

Boots in freshly turned earth beside a planting line

Two people levelling the ground with rakes

A man resting on a hoe beside an olive tree

Three men standing arm in arm in the planted field

Two of the crew in the field with others working behind

Newly staked rows running away across the worked ground

The Sele plain at first light with the mountains behind

A cliff village on the Amalfi coast under low cloud

A narrow Naples street with a clock tower at the end

A bowl of olives and lemons on a kitchen table

Fried fish and oiled bread on a restaurant table

A plated course set down in a small restaurant

Planting week and the days around it — the rows, the crew, the coast, and every meal in between. Photographed by Makoa Freitas.

Parte III · Le Esperienze

Four things we are building toward.

Small groups. Limited seats. In the case of the harvest, genuinely once a year.

Two people working a ridge of turned earth in the vineyard — No machines to speak of. Two people, a ridge of earth, an afternoon.

September – October · 1–3 days

La Vendemmia — the founders' harvest

Pick by hand at dawn and sit down to a long lunch under the vines when the picking stops.

This is the origin story, and guests live inside it rather than watch it.

Limited seatsDates to come

Late spring – early autumn · 3–4 days

The Vine-to-Sea journey

A ferry along the Amalfi Coast, a day and a long lunch at the estate, and the temples of Paestum at the end of the afternoon.

Eight to twelve guests, hosted by the family.

Signature itinerary8–12 guests

Midsummer & harvest editions · evening

La Tavolata — the long table in the vines

One table set down the middle of the rows at dusk. Estate wines alongside buffalo mozzarella and burrata, Paestum vegetables, and wood-fired bread from a baker in Battipaglia. Music as the light goes.

Priced to fill rather than to impress. It is the community moment, twice a year.

Two editions a yearLong table

Wine being poured beside the caravan at the edge of the field — The tailgate at one o’clock. This is the part nobody photographs, so somebody did.

Annual · by invitation

Radici — the members' weekend

The blessing of the vines, and the first look at what is coming next.

Not for sale. Earned by being part of the circle, and meant to be the weekend people come back for every year.

By invitationInaugural edition

Parte IV · I Dintorni

Within an hour

Reasons to come that have nothing to do with us.

Battipaglia is not a destination. It is the middle of one, which is better — everything below is a morning out and back, and none of it needs booking a year ahead.

Paestum20 minutes

Three Greek temples standing in a field since the sixth century BC, and almost nobody in them on a weekday morning. Go at opening, then eat.

The mozzarella road15 minutes

Buffalo dairies along the Sele where the mozzarella is made before dawn and gone by nine. An hour old, still warm, eaten standing up. It does not travel — which is the whole reason to be here.

The Amalfi coast45 minutes

Over the hill and down the other side. Villages stacked on cliffs, lemons the size of a fist, and the correct sense that you have got away with something.

Naples50 minutes by train

Pizza that argues with itself about who invented it, and the archaeological museum, which quietly holds everything Pompeii lost.

Salerno on a Sunday25 minutes

A football match in a small loud stadium. The fastest way to understand a place that has never once tried to be charming.

The Cilentoan hour south

Mountains with snow on them in February and the wildest coastline in Campania underneath. Nobody goes. Go.

We will arrange any of it, and we would rather walk you to the dairy ourselves than book it for you.

A single black olive resting in an open palm, the grove behind — One olive. The whole argument for the place, more or less.

Il Circolo della Vite

The circle of the vine.

How the estate stays in touch with people who cannot get here often, or at all. Seasonal letters, first refusal on the small tables, and an invitation to the members' weekend when it begins.

It costs nothing to be on the list, and it is the only way to hear about dates before they are gone.

Join the letters