Blog Post Title One
Rooted in Tuscany: My Harvest Experience with Tenute Ruffino
In the summer of 2023, I traveled to Tuscany to complete a harvest internship with Tenute Ruffino as part of my master’s program in viticulture and enology. What began as a professional requirement quickly became a personal transformation—one shaped by early mornings in the vineyard, long hours in the cellar, and countless conversations (mostly in Italian) about what it really means to grow and make wine.
Life Among the Vines
My time in the field began in the quiet town of Casciano di Murlo, where I joined Ruffino’s viticulture team working across Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Petit Verdot, Alicante, and Sangiovese blocks. Days started before sunrise and ended by early afternoon to avoid the brutal summer heat. My work ranged from shoot thinning and vine tucking to yield estimation and vineyard mapping. The simplicity of the tasks belied their importance—each decision shaping the health of the vine and the quality of the fruit.
Language posed a challenge at first. My colleagues spoke very little English, and I arrived with only classroom Italian. But through repetition, gestures, and shared purpose, we communicated. Over time, the vineyard became a classroom of its own. My coworkers taught me the names for tools, techniques, and phenological stages, while the vines offered lessons in vigor, variability, and viticultural intention. I began to see how vineyard design, training systems, and past decisions influence not just the current season, but the wine yet to come.
One of the most powerful lessons came not from the work itself, but from the inconsistencies I observed. Certain blocks were clearly suffering—from downy mildew pressure, nutrient deficiencies, or inconsistent training. I asked questions, sometimes hesitantly, about why things were done the way they were. And while answers varied, one truth became clear: good viticulture isn’t just about doing the work—it’s about knowing why you do it. And that knowledge must be shared. Without collaboration and continuous learning, even the most beautiful vineyards can lose their way.
In the Cellar: From Grape to Wine
After several weeks in the vineyard, I moved into the cellar at Tenuta Gretole in Castellina in Chianti, where Ruffino produces their Chianti Classico wines. My role began with lab work—collecting samples, analyzing must for sugar levels, acidity, and pH—and evolved into full-scale harvest duties as grapes started arriving in earnest.
The winemaking process at Ruffino was highly systematized. Grapes were separated, pumped into tanks, and immediately dosed with yeast and nutrients—an approach that struck me for its efficiency and scale. I was responsible for monitoring fermentation via daily Babo (sugar) readings, managing temperature protocols, making nutrient additions, and overseeing macro-oxygenation treatments based on detailed instructions from the winemaker, Giampiero.
Over time, I was trusted with more responsibility. I made critical additions, adjusted tank temperatures, prepped samples for lab “X-ray” testing, and even shadowed Giampiero during tastings. We discussed how he balanced the constraints of working under a corporate structure with his own philosophy of winemaking—often lamenting the push toward international styles at the expense of authentic Sangiovese expression.
Those conversations resonated deeply with me. Tasting through the tanks, I could feel the tension between tradition and modernity. Many wines felt overly ripe, overly alcoholic—a clear move toward French and American palates. And yet, in the purer tanks of Sangiovese, there was something unmistakable: bright acidity, fine tannin, and a sense of place that no amount of oak or blending could recreate. It was a reminder of what drew me to wine in the first place: not manipulation, but reflection—of land, culture, and time.
Looking Back, Moving Forward
My internship at Ruffino was more than a professional experience—it was a personal turning point. I left Italy with calloused hands, a head full of cellar protocols, and a deeper understanding of how much intention, care, and compromise go into every bottle of wine. I also left with clarity: I want to be a winegrower, not just a winemaker.
Growing grapes well—really well—requires more than technique. It requires vision, observation, humility, and respect for the living system you’re a part of. And while winemaking offers its own creative and scientific satisfaction, I’m most drawn to the vineyard, where the story begins.
Of course, I’ll carry both sides of the experience with me. From cellar calculations to canopy management, every piece of this harvest has made me more prepared—and more curious—for what lies ahead.
Italy gave me more than I could have hoped for. And I can’t wait to return.
—Giancarlo
