Marvels on the Margins Part 5: Guide to the White Wines of Fruili

This post is Part 5 of a series called Marvels on the Margins, which explores the overlooked regions of Italy. You can read the introduction to the series here, as well as Part 2 on Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, Part 3 on Trentino-Alto Adige, and Part 4 on Aglianico.

For part five of this series, we return once again to the land of white wine. Indeed, Friuli might just be Italy's most celebrated region for white wine, to the extent that you might wonder why I've even included it as a Margin at all. 

Twenty years ago, Friuli was certainly no margin. When I was first starting out in the wine trade, Josko Gravner was one of Italy's most prominent names, and the white wines of Friuli were on everyone's lips. But that turned out to be peak Friuli. Since then, white wine drinkers have followed their usual path, drifting away from Italy toward Burgundy, the Loire, Austria, or Germany. Today, Friuli feels once again like a hidden gem waiting to be rediscovered.

Geographically, too, Friuli feels like a margin, way over on the eastern edge of Italy and practically a part of Eastern Europe. But step back and look at the whole map of Europe, and it starts to look more like the center. For it is precisely in Friuli where three of Europe's great cultural groups converge: Latin, Germanic, and Slavic.

This convergence struck me profoundly a few years ago during a road trip from Milan to Zagreb. I paused overnight in Trieste, Friuli's great port city, and one of the five largest cities in the Austro-Hungarian empire back in its heyday. As I relaxed in its grand piazza, the faded grandeur of the now-defunct Empire towered above me, embodied in Trieste’s majestic architecture. On my plate was frico, a comforting potato and Montasio cheese pancake that reflected the region's Austrian culinary influence. Nearby, the Slavic spirit was evident, from signs and menus in Slovenian to hearty dishes seasoned with paprika and caraway. And yet, unmistakably, I was in a quintessentially Italian city—the very birthplace of espresso!

This extraordinary intersection is clearly mirrored in Friuli’s white wines, such as those I enjoyed that memorable night, and countless others before and since. The influence manifests itself in the diversity of grape varieties grown here, as well as in the varied styles and winemaking techniques employed. We will delve deeply into all of these fascinating elements throughout this guide.

Friuli produces excellent red wines, too, but Italy abounds in remarkable reds. Thus, I decided to focus exclusively on Friuli's white wines. With one exception: orange wine! They're made from white wine grapes, after all, and they play such an important role in Friuli's modern identity. 

Friuli: The Big Picture

Geographically, Friuli-Venezia Giulia stretches dramatically from the Adriatic coast northward to the foothills of the Alps, forming a diverse and picturesque landscape that profoundly shapes its wines.

Along the coastal plains near the Adriatic Sea, the climate is Mediterranean, moderated by gentle sea breezes, offering ideal conditions for fresh, aromatic whites. The situation here is not so different from, say, coastal Marche, another great source of fresh, crisp whites. 

Inland, the terrain transitions to gently rolling hills and valleys. Here you have some of Friuli’s most celebrated wine zones. The star of the show here, from the point of view of terroir, is Ponca. This famous soil type consists of layers of marl and sandstone, and it’s assumed that this is what gives the local white wines their astounding minerality and complexity.

Moving further north, the landscape becomes progressively alpine. As you’d expect, cooler air means fresher, more vibrant wines that are typical of these higher elevations.

Like all of Italy, Friuli is divided into several distinct wine regions, each with its unique personality. We’re going to delve into some of the key ones.

Regions



Carso

Leave the wonderful city of Trieste, and the first vines that you see belong to the wine region of Carso. Look at a map, and it is hard to argue that this isn’t an Eastern European wine region. You are on the east side of the Adriatic here, with parts of both Croatia and Slovenia further to the west.

Anyway, whether you are in eastern or western Europe was a dispute that was settled many decades ago in Italy's favor. The wines themselves pay no attention to nationality, but only to terroir and local custom. That terroir is very interesting, with intensely iron-rich limestone soils and Mediterranean breezes.

So what kind of wines do they grow here? You are the very top part of the Istrian peninsula here (which used to be entirely Italian but now belongs mostly to Croatia, with a tiny Italian minority surviving to this day). So it is Malvasia Istriana that is one of the most widely grown white grapes here, and it can be quite good.

Recently surging in fame is the very local grape Vitovska. If that sounds Slavic to you, it’s because it’s named for a nearby Slovenian community. Today, it’s a grape that grows in and around the Carso region, and not really anywhere else in the world.

Orange wine wasn’t invented in Carso, but it’s certainly commonly made here, often with the Vitovska grape, or with the more common Pinot Grigio (which produces a more copper-colored wine called Ramato). 

These are definitely wines to try if you ever make a stop in Trieste! Look for Zidarich on the local wine lists, as this reference-point producer is making some of Carso’s top orange wines, from both Malvasia and Vitovska.

Collio

Head north from Carso, but stay firmly tucked up against the Slovenian border, and you arrive in Collio (the full name of the region is Collio Gorziano). When wine lovers first began to talk about  Friuli being a special wine region of Italy, it was Collio that they were talking about. 

Collio has long been one of Italy’s most respected zones for white wine. Even more so than Friuli’s other wine regions, it is closely connected to the broader region of Central Europe—to Slavic winemaking heritage, to Austro-Hungarian culture, and to a tradition of white wine excellence that predates the Italian Republic by centuries.

But unlike Carso, which comes from a German word, the name Collio is actually Italian. It means, of course, “hills”, and it’s these hills that define the wine region. The gentle, rolling slopes here are composed of ponca—the local name for the flaky, mineral-rich marl and sandstone soils that once formed the seafloor. These soils fracture easily, forcing vine roots to dig deep, and they drain water well, both factors that contribute to wines of exceptional intensity and clarity.

And the hills don’t stop at the border. On the other side, Collio becomes Goriška Brda—Slovenia’s answer to this unique stretch of land. In fact, many families own vineyards on both sides, and the cultural divide is more political than practical. To drink Collio is to drink a wine region that transcends borders.

It is Collio that has given Friuli its reputation for experimentation with technique and style. This is where you find Oslavia, a small village tucked into the Collio hills, right up against the Slovenian border. More Slovenian is spoken here than Italian. And it is here that the modern orange wine movement took shape. A handful of determined winemakers—starting with Gravner and soon after Radikon—began macerating Ribolla Gialla on its skins in earnest, embracing a raw, ancient style that challenged convention and thrilled a new generation of wine lovers. Oslavia’s wines are unapologetically bold and complex, born of place, history, and rebellion

Not everyone in Collio is working with amphorae or extended maceration. Just as important are the region’s more classical producers, like Borgo del Tiglio, where Nicola Manferrari makes wines of staggering precision. His Collio Bianco, a blend of local and international grapes, is among the finest white wines in Italy: floral, textural, and capable of aging for a decade or more.

Whether it's orange wines from Oslavia or crystalline blends from the slopes near Cormòns (Collio's unofficial wine capital), Collio offers a stunning expression of white wine diversity. It’s a region rooted in tradition, but unafraid to break the rules. That spirit of experimentation—of rethinking what white wine can be—is exactly what makes Collio such an exciting place to drink from today.

Colli Orientali del Friuli

Head north, leaving the Adriatic sea even further behind, and you get to the Colli Orientali del Friuli. It sounds great in Italian but its translation is rather boring: The Eastern Hills of Friuli. 

While Colli may sound a lot like Collio, you will notice some subtle changes as you move from one region to the other. In Collio, which after all crosses the border with Slovenia, the Slavic influence is strong. It doesn’t entirely disappear as you move north to Colli, which also shares a border with Slovenia, but Colli spreads further higher in the Alps, towards Austria. So here, things are a little more Germanic.

Things are also a little bit more Italian. This is because the area spreads west, towards Italy’s heartland, and encompasses the city of Udine, which has long been an Italian-speaking town (and which, despite having a population of under 100,000, somehow manages to support a top division Italian soccer club). 

One thing that doesn’t change is Ponca. It’s got the same fractured soils that you find in Collio, and that give both regions such remarkable wines. But here the elevations are higher, and there is more diversity in the soils. The white wines – like the culture itself – feel more German, more Italian, and less Eastern European.

This is where international varieties—Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Pinot Bianco—can reach striking heights, but also where local grapes like Picolit and Verduzzo have managed to survive. As is the case across Italy, this is thanks to the heroic efforts of local producers who seek to protect local identity against the forces of globalization. 

One of my favorite examples is Ronchi di Cialla. Nestled in a secluded valley near the Slovenian border, the Rapuzzi family has spent decades reviving native grapes, working organically long before it was fashionable, and bottling wines that whisper of the region’s mountain air, forest floor, and wild herbs. Their Ribolla Gialla is a revelation: stony, saline, and texturally refined like a good white Burgundy. 

Meanwhile, in the hills above Rosazzo—a tiny but historic zone just southeast of Udine that is anchored by a thousand-year-old wine-producing abbey and long prized for its exceptional vineyard sites—Ronco del Gnemiz offers a different, more internationalized, take. The estate has built a cult following for its explosive whites—especially Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay—that combine aromatic power with laser-sharp acidity. These are serious wines, often aged in wood, and capable of aging gracefully for a decade or more. They have international appeal, but these are not wines that you will confuse with Meurault or Sancerre – they are no less Friulian than Ronchi di Cialla’s Ribolla Gialla

Friuli Grave

Descend west from the hills in the easter sector of Friuli, and you arrive at a large plain that stretches between the Isonzo and Tegliamento rivers. Like Graves in Bordeaux, this region takes its name from its soil type, gravel. 

The gravel here is thicker than what you might find on a country road. These are small stones carried down by rivers from the Alps over thousands of years. They serve a vital function: draining water quickly, forcing vines to dig deep, and reflecting sunlight to help ripen grapes even in cooler years. 

The story of Grave is, in many ways, the story of Pinot Grigio. It was here—more than anywhere else in Italy—that this grape exploded in the 1990s, riding a wave of American enthusiasm for crisp, easy-drinking whites – the earliest signs of a backlash against oaky Californian Chardonnay. For a time, “Pinot Grigio from Friuli” was the closest thing Italy had to a global white wine brand. And while much of that volume was uninspired, some producers were (and still are) crafting wines of surprising elegance and finesse.

Some producers have taken Pinot Grigio seriously and have started to show that these gravelly soils really can produce top-rate wines from this popular grape. Wineries have experimented with other international grapes, most notably Sauvignon Blanc, as well as local varieties like Friulano. 

They’ve had particular success in a subzone known as Isonzo, which is technically a different DOC sandwiched between Grave, Collio, and Carso, but which shares the same gravelly soils that you find in Grave. Here, the elevations are lower and the moderating influence of the Adriatic is greater, so it is easier to develop fully ripe grapes. It is here that you find Vie de Romans, a great producer of white wines in a decidedly international style, but with a quality and elegance that appeal even to grizzled wine lovers like me.

More on Orange Wines

Today, orange wine is an important part of Friulian wine identity, but that certainly has not always been the case. In fact, subject to one important exception that I’ll get into below, it pretty much all goes back to one producer, Josko Gravner, and how work just 30 years ago.

In 1996, Gravner—already a superstar for his white wines—grew increasingly disillusioned with modern winemaking technology. That year's vintage was difficult, and it left him feeling unfulfilled. Despite his technical precision and modern equipment, the resulting wines felt sterile and devoid of character. Stainless steel, temperature control, filtration—it all felt too clinical, too disconnected from nature.

That dissatisfaction drove him east, to Georgia, where he encountered a millennia-old tradition of fermenting white grapes with their skins in clay amphorae buried underground. It was a revelation. Gravner returned to Friuli and began experimenting with extended skin contact, first in large oak barrels, and later in imported qvevri of his own. His first orange wines were bottled in the late 1990s, but they were met with confusion and even disdain. 

For a time, Gravner receded from the spotlight. But in 2005, Eric Asimov of The New York Times published a thoughtful profile that helped contextualize Gravner’s work and introduce a broader audience to the concept of orange wine. That article helped spark what would become a revolution. 

Soon, Gravner wasn’t alone. Other producers in Friuli—like Radikon, Dario Princic, Zidarich, and Vodopivec—began gaining recognition for their own amber-hued wines. These were not easy wines. They demanded time, food, and patience. But they also offered something singular: a way of drinking white wine that honored tradition, terroir, and texture in a way few modern wines did.

And it wasn’t all new. In fact, Friuli already had its own skin-contact tradition in the form of Pinot Grigio Ramato—a style that involves brief skin maceration, lending the wine a coppery hue ("ramato" means copper-colored). This technique had been used for generations in Friuli, particularly in the Collio zone, and helped pave the way for greater acceptance of more extreme skin-contact styles.

From there, the orange wine movement spread. Slovenia, just over the border, became an epicenter of its own. And now you can find examples from California, Australia, Spain, and beyond…even Bordeaux! But the wellspring remains in Friuli, and particularly in the hills of Oslavia and the rocky outcrops of Carso.

The Case for International Grapes

It’s easy to approach Friuli’s international grape varieties with skepticism. Do we really need another Sauvignon Blanc, another Chardonnay, another Pinot Grigio—especially from Italy, a country with more native grapes than anywhere else on earth?

But that reaction misses the point—and the history. In Friuli, these so-called “international” grapes are not recent interlopers. Many of them arrived more than a century ago, introduced under the Habsburgs during the long reign of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The Empire’s bureaucrats and agronomists encouraged modern agriculture, and Friuli—with its mild climate, Alpine runoff, and proximity to Vienna—was a favored zone for experimentation. Grapes like Pinot Bianco and Sauvignon Blanc found their way here early and stuck. Others, like Chardonnay and Pinot Grigio, arrived later but took root quickly.

Pinot Grigio, in particular, became Friuli’s most famous export. It was in the gravelly plains of Friuli Grave, and to a lesser extent the hills of Isonzo and Collio, that Pinot Grigio found its modern voice—fresh, light, and crisp, a perfect tonic for 1990s America reeling from too many buttery Chardonnays. It became the bar white wine of choice in the days of Sex in the City. Of course, this all came at a cost. Volume exploded, quality often dipped, and the grape gained a reputation for being nothing more than innocuous.

Of course, there is good Pinot Grigio to be found. There are versions (like from Isonzo) that are rich and textural. Some make it in the Ramato style—briefly macerated on the skins to extract color and spice—while others aim for crystalline purity. In either case, the grape’s success here isn’t just marketing -- there really is an affinity between the grape and its terroir. 

Sauvignon Blanc is another misunderstood grape in Friuli. It thrives here thanks to the cooler nights and mineral-rich soils. Grown in the hills of Colli Orientali or the breezy vineyards of Isonzo, Friulian Sauvignon shows a different character than its Loire or New Zealand cousins: less grassy, more stony; less flamboyant, more precise. Producers like Ronco del Gnemiz and Venica & Venica have elevated the grape to heights that would surprise even the most jaded palate.

You will also occasionally find bottles of Chardonnay or Pinot Bianco that are worth drinking. Duline, a biodynamic producer in the Colli Orientali, has a fantastic, highly Friulian take on Chardonnay. And that's what matters: not so much whether a grape is indigenous or foreign, but whether the wine has a distinct and Friulian personality. That said, maybe they do grow a little too much Pinot Grigio? 

Miani vs. Gravner: The Twin Poles of Friulian Wine

All this talk of orange wines and international wines speaks to one thing I love about Friuli: that it can take these polar opposites and do both so well. That’s especially true if you focus on the two unquestionable superstars of Friuli: Gravner, whom we’ve described a fair bit above, and Enzo Pontoni of Miani.

Working in the hills of Buttrio and Rosazzo, Pontoni focuses obsessively on vineyard health and low yields to help develop power and nuance.  His Sauvignon Blancs and Chardonnays are among the most sought-after in all of Italy, sometimes fetching Burgundian prices. These wines are not eccentric or rebellious and they don't try to be. Instead, they are exacting and beautiful, showing just how far international grapes can go when handled with care and vision in Friuli’s unique terroirs.

While Gravner reaches deep into the past to recover forgotten techniques and philosophies, Pontoni looks forward, relentlessly refining viticulture and cellar work to produce wines of laser precision and expressive clarity. Gravner works with clay pots buried in the ground; Pontoni works with small barrels and obsessive vineyard management. Gravner’s wines are amber, earthy, and oxidative. Pontoni’s are crystalline, vertical, and pure.

How cool is it that both of them are 100% Friulian? And that I am happy to cellar and drink the wines of both producers.

This, of course, illustrates a deeper truth about Friuli. It is not defined by any one style, grape, or philosophy. It is a region of contradictions—Eastern and Western, ancient and modern, structured and wild. In the space between Gravner and Miani lies the full spectrum of Friulian white wine: from copper-colored amphora-aged Ribolla to razor-sharp Sauvignon Blanc; from oxidative depth to luminous purity. From Slavic to Germanic to Italian. 

It sure makes for great wine exploration!

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How to Explore, Buy, Cellar, and Drink Friulian Wines

I’m a grape variety guy, and when I attack a new wine region, it’s always the first place I want to focus. Although there is some blending practiced in Friuli, most of the wines you find are single varietal wines, so I would start by checking them out. Get a bottle of Friulano. Get a bottle of Ribolla Gialla. Try the more obscure varieties like Vitovska. But also try the international varieties – especially Sauvignon Blanc – and get to know what they taste like when grown in the local Ponca soils.

You can target all sorts of producers for different grape varieties, but one that I like for its simple, but well-crafted and varietally-focused wines is Via Alpina in the Colli Orientali. Want to know what Ribolla Gialla tastes like? Their inexpensive example will show you clearly.

Then, of course, you need to get ot know the area's many great producers. I’ve mentioned a bunch of them throughout the guide, but here’s a more comprehensive list of producers that I pay regular attention to:

• Gravner – The superstar who invented Friulian orange wine. One of the core members of the Oslavia consortium, making orange wines from the local Ribolla Gialla.
• Radikon – Gravner’s neighbor and fellow Oslavia pioneer, known for uncompromising skin-contact wines that are wild, textural, and profoundly alive.
  
• Miani – The perfectionist of Buttrio. Produces minuscule quantities of pristine, vineyard-driven whites (and some reds) from international grapes at Burgundy-level quality—and prices.
  
• Vie di Romans – The powerhouse of Isonzo. Bold, structured whites with a modern edge, aged on lees and built to impress.
• Venica & Venica – Family-run estate in Collio known for vibrant, terroir-reflective whites with wide appeal and consistently high quality.
  
• Ronchi di Cialla – Guardians of the past. Tucked into a secluded Colli Orientali valley, they champion native grapes like Ribolla, Schioppettino, and Verduzzo with grace and authenticity.
• Zidarich – Carso traditionalist pushing making intensely mineral orange wines from Vitovska and Malvasia in his stunning underground winery carved into the rock.
  
• Dalia Maris – A side project from Venica & Venica, they make expressive whites inspired by JL Chave, and even use Chave’s barrels.
  
• Vignai da Duline – Biodynamic artisans crafting soulful wines from old vines in Colli Orientali. Especially known for their very distinctive Malvasia and Chardonnay. 
• Borgo del Tiglio – Collio master blending tradition and precision. Elegant, oak-aged whites—especially their iconic Studio di Bianco—that age like fine white Burgundy.
  
• Ronco del Gnemiz – Rosazzo cult producer known for structured, ageworthy whites (especially Sauvignon Blanc) that combine richness and laser focus.
• Sirk Mitja – Another innovator from Oslavia. Known for elegant, skin-contact wines and for reviving the family’s legendary La Subida restaurant—definitely the best place to go to enjoy Friulian wine and sample the local cuisine!

Almost all white wines from Friuli are ready to drink on release, but if you’re like me, you’ll find that many of them become even more compelling with a few years of bottle age. The problem is that you’ll almost never find them with age already on them—retailers only have current releases, and these wines don’t show up at auction. So if you want to experience their full potential, you’ll have to do the work yourself: buy them young, lay them down, and wait.

Fortunately, unless you’re buying Gravner or Miani, Friulian whites remain some of the best values in the world of fine wine. It’s genuinely difficult to spend over $100. For a fraction of the cost of top-tier white Burgundy, you can cellar world-class wines—like Radikon’s wild-textured, amber-hued masterpieces, or Ronco del Gnemiz’s laser-cut, wood-aged whites—for five to ten years and watch them evolve in fascinating ways.

If your cellar leans more toward the luxury end of the spectrum, then yes: Gravner and Miani are essential targets. But they are just the tip of the iceberg. Producers like Vignai da Duline make white wines of tremendous depth and longevity that resist easy categorization—neither orange nor modern, but something uniquely Friulian. These are the kinds of wines that reward both patience and curiosity. 

As for food pairings, few regions offer more versatility. Orange wines from Friuli—especially Ribolla Gialla—are a secret weapon for the table, especially when the usual suspects fall short. Spicy dishes, umami-heavy broths, fermented foods, pan-Asian cuisine—these wines can handle it all. Meanwhile, the region’s more “classic” whites, in a Miani or Gnemiz mold, slot in effortlessly anywhere you’d think to pour white Burgundy: scallops, roast chicken, creamy pastas, mushrooms. And let’s not forget the bright, crisp Pinot Grigios of Grave, which remain perfect for lighter fare—grilled fish, fresh salads, or a simple plate of prosciutto and melon.

Really, unless you're cooking red meat—in which case I have trouble resisting the red wines of Tuscany or Piedmont!—there’s very likely a Friulian white that will fit the bill.

Of all the regions I’ve explored so far in this series on the Margins, Friuli has been the most fun. Maybe that’s because it was the least familiar. Diving into its craggy hills and gravel plains, encountering new grapes, forgotten villages, producers with Slovenian surnames and Alpine accents—it felt like I was starting all over again in my wine journey, and it reminded me of what a fun adventure it’s been. I look forward to seeing you next time for something completely different: Mount Etna!