When it comes to famed natural wine regions, most people will rattle off places like the Loire Valley or Beaujolais in France, Burgenland in Austria, Australia’s Adelaide Hills, or perhaps Catalonia in Spain. For whatever reason, Italy comes up much less in natural wine chatter. Part of that is because Italians were somewhat slower to embrace the natural wine movement—well behind the French, in particular.

That is not to say that Italy doesn’t have famous natural wine superstars. From the earliest days of the movement, there was Josko Gravner and Stanislao Radikon in Friuli, Arianna Occhipinti and Frank Cornelissen in Sicily, La Stoppa in Emilia-Romagna, Paolo Bea in Umbria, Marino Colleoni in Tuscany, and others. But overall, Italy’s wine culture has always been much more conservative, conventional, and dominated by bigger brands.

That’s why the VinNatur New York event this week was so eye opening. Over two days in Brooklyn (of course) I tasted from more than 40 winemakers from all over Italy. This was the first event in the U.S. for VinNatur, founded in 2006 as Italy’s oldest natural wine organization.

“In the early years, we didn’t have the culture for it. For us, we are really new to this sort of work, ” said Gianpaolo Giacobbo, an Italian wine writer who presented a seminar at VinNatur on the “Evolution of Natural Wine in Italy.” During the early days of the natural wine movement, Giacobbo said, Italian wine culture had been more centered on an agri-business mentality. “In France, they’ve always been more vigneron-first.”

Another issue was that Italian wine drinkers seemed much more sensitive to perceived flaws. “There were a lot of defects in the early days,” Giacobbo said. “Imperfections should be something interesting. But, of course, imperfections are not defects.” In any case, those early days feel like a long time ago. There are now more than a thousand natural wine producers in Italy.

This diverse new wave was on full display at VinNatur. From hybrid grapes grown at altitude in mountainous Alto Adige (Thomas Niedermayr) to organic Montepulciano d'Abruzzo (Gianluca Salce) to rare varieties like Croatina from Lombardia (Perego & Perego) or Spergola from Emilia Romagna (Cinque Campi). But the wines that struck me the most came from two of Italy’s mainstay regions, Veneto and Tuscany.

For most drinkers, the name Tuscany conjures classic wines like Chianti and Brunello di Montalcino. But outside of those prestige appellations (and even inside in some cases) there’s a ton of natural wine energy happening. 

Take La Torre alle Tolfe, for instance. Situated on 50 hectares near Siena, winemaker Teresa Castellani produces Sangiovese wines both in the Chianti Colli Senesi DOCG as well as single-varietal bottlings of local grapes like Ciliegiolo, Canaiolo, and Colorino in the more general Toscana Rosso IGT classification. A similar thing is happening in Chianti Classico with Podere Erica, or Chianti Rufina DOCG with Fattoria Lavacchio, which makes pét-nats using Trebbiano and Syrah, bottled as IGT, but also organic Sangiovese as Chianti and Chianti Riserva. “I definitely think Chianti is changing its mentality,” Castellani told me.

It’s changing in Brunello di Montalcino, too. At Giacobbo’s seminar, he opened an incredible bottle of 2008 Brunello di Montalcino from Marino Colleoni, elegant and silky, with all the great Brunello notes—dried fruit, tobacco, leather, mint, truffle, balsamic. But there was also something bright, lively, and juicy—something natty in the best way possible. 

Of course, plenty of Tuscan natural wine producers eschew the prestige appellations entirely. “This could be a Chianti, but it’s not a Chianti,” said Gianni Massone, of Santa10, as he poured me his blend made of 90 percent Sangiovese alongside Petit Verdot and Cabernet Franc. I also loved his SantaSubito blend of Canaiolo, Ciliegiolo, and Colorino. Even further outside the classic Tuscan DOCGs are producers like Sequerciani in coastal Maremma, making great wines with obscure indigenous grapes such as Pugnitello and Foglia Tonda.

Yet it was the wines from Veneto that left the biggest impression on me at VinNatur. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Veneto, even working for a time in Soave and Colli Berici. Home of Valpolicella, Prosecco, Amarone, and Soave, the Veneto has always been dominated by big brands and cooperatives. It’s never struck me as a natural wine kind of place. Perhaps I’d taken my eye off the ball, though, because I was surprised by how much natty energy there now is in the region.

Perhaps I shouldn’t be, though. After all, the person who founded VinNatur is Vento’s OG natural wine producer, Angiolino Maule of La Biancara. But beyond Maule’s wines, I was taken by more than a half dozen producers breathing life into workhorse Veneto grapes such as Garganega (the backbone of Soave), Glera (the backbone of Prosecco), Raboso (the osteria red of Venice), and the ever-maligned Pinot Grigio (wine of book clubs and reality television).

When it comes to Garganeaga, the oceans of middling Soave over the last 50 years have given the grape a bad reputation. So it was great to see some natural producers such as Santa Colomba (in Colli Berici near Vicenza), Volcanalia (with four hectares between Verona and Vicenza, outside of Soave) pushing the limits of what that grape can be—including skin contact renditions that felt light years away from the Soave of late 20th century television commericals.

“If you’re not doing skin contact with Garganega, what are you even doing?” joked Giulia Masiero, as we tasted through Masiero’s exceptional Lazaro bottling—which may have been the top wine of the tasting for me.

Beyond Garganega, I was enamored with the wines Casa Belfi, near Treviso, and its amphora aged frizzante wines made from Glera—a far cry from everyday Prosecco—as well as their bottlings of the Manzoni, a grape whose parents are Riesling and Pinot Blanc. I also enjoyed an interesting Manzoni from Terre Grosse, also in Treviso, as well as their frizzante wine made from another rare local grape called Grapariol.

Moving into reds, Terre Grosse’s sparkling and still wines made from the Raboso grape were extraordinary. “This was the red wine of the Venetian Republic,” said Nicola Vicino, Terre Grosse’s winemaker. Most people know Raboso as a simple, juicy red you get when you ask for “vino rosso” at a bar in and around Venice. These Raboso were several cuts above, yet still retained the drinkability that’s Raboso’s appeal.

Yet probably the biggest surprise of the entire VinNatur event was the skin-contact Pinot Grigio from the Veneto. Called ramato or “coppered” in Italian, this rosé-like white wine is a far cry from insipid Pinot Grigio, much of it from the Delle Venezie DOC, that we’re used to seeing all over the U.S. None of the producers at VinNatur bottled their Ramato Pinot Grigio in the DOC (they aren’t allowed to anyway). Terre Grosse cheekily lists theirs as L’Innominable Grigio or “The gray that we cannot say.”

Take a step back and think for a moment about Pinot Grigio, the actual grape. Remember that this is a mutation of the pinot family (along with pinot noir and pinot blanc) and has a bright, attractive pink skin. Some winegrowers, way back in history, were captivated enough by the pink skin to cultivate the vines. If they were going to invest in growing it, why would they not have found a way to utilize the beautiful hue of the skin? When you think about Pinot Grigio in this way, you have to wonder why wineries ever stopped doing skin contact and chose to make a boring white wine instead. To borrow Giulia Masiero’s statement on Garganega: If you’re not doing skin contact with Pinot Grigio, what are you even doing?

The skin-contact Pinot Grigio revelation is the kind of thing that makes natural wine movement, and the questions it asks, so vital for me. And it’s why I am grateful to have checked the pulse of Italian natural wine at VinNatur.