Within the landscape of Italian rosé wines, Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo stands apart. It is a wine that speaks the language of the land, of rural tradition. Recognazible, sincere wine, deeply rooted in Abruzzese culture.
To me, Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo is the wine of the future.
The future of the region, because it does not carry the weight of the commercial distortion that Trebbiano and Montepulciano have endured. It is still, in many ways, a perfect unknown—full of possibilities and potential.
It is also the wine of the future of taste.
In a world facing accelerating climate change, where vintages are becoming increasingly warm and red wine consumption is declining, rosé consumption is rising—and authentic Cerasuolo is growing in sales like never before. Precisely because it answers the demand for fresh, drinkable red wines.
Yet today, at a time when rosé wines are enjoying renewed global popularity, we must ask ourselves: what future do we want for Cerasuolo?
For me, Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo is not simply a rosé. It is an identity. And like all identities, it cannot be diluted to follow fleeting trends or international fashions.
Nomen omen: color is substance
Cerasuolo cannot be pale. Its name comes from cerasa—cherry. It is a wine born with a precise color, that of ripe cherry. While it may show different shades, it cannot become salmon or onion-skin. This is not just about aesthetics, but about cultural coherence.
Color, then—however secondary it may seem—becomes the first safeguard of authenticity.
Cerasuolo has real, full fruit, that truly tastes of cherry. It has a unique chewiness, derived from Montepulciano vinified as a rosé. And its acidity is different: less malic, more tartaric—making it fresh but not sharp, never aggressive like those rosés that taste of green apple.
The structure of authentic Cerasuolo not only holds over time—it can evolve, even in bottle.
We have been taught to fear orange or brick hues, as if they were signs of decline. But in a serious, mature Cerasuolo, they are simply part of its possible evolution—and can become a highly refined detail for those who know how to appreciate it.
Not a summer wine
I firmly reject the idea of rosé as a seasonal, aperitif-style, superficial wine. Cerasuolo is not a beach wine. It is a wine to be enjoyed all year round.
It is versatile, yes—but not simple. It is complex, layered, alive.
An identity to defend, a history to honor
Today more than ever, we need a cultural awareness among Abruzzese producers. We must remember who we are: our history, our rural traditions, our winemaking knowledge.
In the past, making a great Cerasuolo was more difficult than making a red wine. There was no modern technology—yet it was the wine proudly offered to guests. It was the true measure of a winemaker’s skill.
Anyone who produces a pale, characterless wine today and still calls it Cerasuolo, in my opinion, shows no respect for this heritage. And above all, has lost touch with reality.
Because the world does not need yet another light, anonymous rosé imitating Provence—it needs authentic wines, capable of telling stories, places, and cultures.
Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo Doc can truly become the new avant-garde of Italian wine—but only if it remains true to itself.
