There is something quietly radical stirring in the northeastern hills of Italy. In Collio, a sun-drenched stretch of vineyards bordering Slovenia, tradition and rebellion have long shared the same glass. Now, after decades of resistance and revolution, Collio has officially added orange wine to its DOC classification. This move is more than a regulatory decision. It is a homecoming.
Once considered a niche category favored by experimental winemakers, orange wine -technically white wine fermented on its grape skins - is stepping into the limelight. With 72 percent of producers in the Consorzio Tutela Vini Collio voting in favor, this ancient method is now enshrined within the region’s most prestigious designation of origin. But this victory was not easily earned.
To understand the significance of this moment, one must go back to the early 1990s. At that time, two iconoclasts named Joško Gravner and Stanko Radikon walked away from conventional white winemaking. Seeking structure, texture, and soul, they revived ancestral methods of fermentation, allowing Ribolla Gialla grapes to macerate with their skins. Their wines were bold and amber-toned, standing in stark contrast to the crisp, filtered whites that dominated the market.
Their reward was exclusion. Denied the right to use the Collio DOC name, they bottled their wines under less recognized classifications. While their reputations quietly grew among aficionados, the region they loved offered no formal recognition. That silence has finally been broken.
The updated DOC regulation introduces a new category called vino macerato, or skin-macerated wine. Under the rules, these wines must ferment with skins for at least seven days and meet specific standards for color and volatile acidity. Rather than limiting creativity, this framework protects the authenticity of the style while providing clarity for both producers and consumers.
For winemakers, this is long-overdue validation. For drinkers, it brings welcome transparency. “Now we can certify these wines and label them clearly”, says Lavinia Zamaro, director of the Collio Consortium. In the past, a bottle of Ribolla might be orange or white, and few could be certain until the cork was pulled.
Indeed, for years, producers were forced to obscure their methods. Skin-contact wines could not be labeled as such, leaving buyers to rely on reputation alone. Some purists worry that official classification may tame the wild heart of orange wine. What happens, they ask, when a rebel becomes part of the establishment? Others see recognition as a means of protection. With orange wine now trending globally, from Tokyo to Toronto, imitation is inevitable. A formal DOC category helps preserve Collio’s unique expression and shields its legacy from dilution. And Collio is no ordinary wine region. It is the birthplace of the modern orange wine movement. Giving the region its rightfulplace in this narrative is not just appropriate. It is necessary.
Collio’s embrace of orange wine represents more than a change in regulation. It signals that tradition can evolve, and that authenticity and innovation need not be at odds. The wines of the past still have a voice in the present.
Even as it receives official status, orange wine retains its mystery. Each vintage remains a conversation between grape, soil, and the hand that guides it. Labels may offer clarity, but the essence of these wines remains beautifully uncontainable.
For Gravner, Radikon, and all who followed, this moment is about continuity. The methods they reclaimed are now part of Collio’s formal identity. Their quiet revolution has become a shared legacy.