One of the things that continues to surprise me about life in Italy is the hidden gems we stumble across while out exploring. The kind that appear in unexpected places and turn into warm, fuzzy memories that stay with you long after the moment has passed.

This is one of those stories.

Years ago our Italian neighbor had given us a bottle of wine we were not familiar with. It was a Cerasuolo wine, similar to a rosé, but it had a more intense red color…and it was delicious.

Curious to know more about it, we looked up the winery online and discovered it was made not too far from our house. That sounded like the perfect excuse for a drive…and maybe a little wine tasting.

The drive to Tocco da Casauria feels like traveling through a painting. The road snakes through green hills, with snowcapped mountains rising in the distance and groves of olive trees stretching across the landscape. In the spring, bright red poppies dot the hillsides, and every curve in the road looks like something you’d want to stop and photograph.

When we arrived in town, the usual worries set in. Were we going the right way? Were we accidentally driving into a ZTL zone? In Italy, that can mean a camera, a fine, and a surprise letter arriving months later…long after you’ve forgotten where you were or what you did.

It also happened to be market day, so the main road was blocked off. We decided it was safest to park and walk. Our trusty GPS said the winery was just a few minutes away…which in Italy usually means you’re headed in roughly the right direction.

A bit of wandering and several turns later, the GPS confidently announced we had arrived. The sign above our heads read: Guardiani Farchione Winery.

From the outside you’d never guess it was a winery at all.

The building was simply part of a long row of connected buildings along the main street. It could just as easily have been someone’s home.

There was nothing overly fancy about it. No grand entrance. No sweeping vineyard views. Just a simple sign, two enormous wooden doors set into the front of the building, and a doorbell.

I remember standing there, feeling curious. We rang the bell, not quite sure what to expect.

Then the doors opened…

A young man and his mother welcomed us inside. For a moment, we wondered if we were in the right place. It felt less like entering a business and more like stepping into someone’s home.

They introduced themselves as Giampaolo and Stefania, whose family has been making wine and olive oil for well over a century. From the very first moment, we were made to feel completely at home.

Giampaolo offered us a full tour of the winery, answering our questions and patiently explaining everything. We walked through wide rooms with terracotta floors and high ceilings before reaching a staircase.

Then he led us downstairs…

The staircase opened into cave-like halls and cellars carved deep below street level, the air noticeably cooler as we descended. Rows of stainless steel wine tanks rested against stone walls that seemed to hold generations of history.

These ancient-feeling cellars were my favorite part of the visit.

Back upstairs, we sat at the tasting bar while Giampaolo poured wine after wine, telling us about each one.

By then, we had completely lost track of time.

At some point, his mother, Stefania, appeared with plates of cheese, sliced meats, and fresh bread drizzled with olive oil.

The family also produces their own organic extra-virgin olive oil, pressed from Toccolana olives grown only in this region. Many of their trees are more than a century old.

Their olive oil is still the only one I use.

A couple of hours passed without us noticing. No one rushed us. No one mentioned a fee. They simply gave us their time, their stories, their wine, and their food.

We left with far more bottles than we intended… Montepulciano, Trebbiano, Pecorino, and Cerasuolo… along with several liters of olive oil and the feeling that we had just experienced something very special.

We still visit that winery often, and we bring new friends along whenever we can. Not just for the wine and olive oil, but for the drive through the hills, the beautiful scenery, and the genuine Italian hospitality.

Sometimes I’ll drizzle their olive oil over fresh bread at home with a glass of wine and find myself thinking back to that day…the ancient cellars, the warm welcome, and the thrill of discovering a true hidden gem.

It’s a memory I’ll always carry with me… and one more reason why life here just feels right.

Join me next time when I share with you what it’s like to shop in an Italian grocery store.

Until next time —

With love from Italy,
Jamie

I usually write every other week — and sometimes more when there’s a good story to tell.