The Engineer & the Volcano

The story of Cantina del Malandrino is a story of resurrection — of a landscape, a legacy, and a way of farming that almost vanished. The estate is located at Bagolaro Farm in the municipality of Mascali, on the eastern slopes of Mount Etna. Before World War II, this land hosted one of the largest wineries on Etna. After the war, it fell into disrepair, abandoned and forgotten, swallowed by time and vegetation. In 2005, Diego Bongiovanni — an engineer by training but a farmer by calling — began the long, patient work of restoring the land. He was not merely planting vines; he was rebuilding an ecosystem, reintroducing biodiversity, and proving that a post-industrial ruin could become a natural wine sanctuary.

Diego's background in engineering gives him a rare duality: he approaches the vineyard with empirical rigour — observation, measurement, and scientific understanding — but he follows his heart when it comes to the land. He is a man who loves the sun that kisses the vineyard terraces every morning, who believes that wine is made not by formula but by encounter, clash, and exchange between grape, soil, and intuition. In the years since 2005, he has been joined by Cinzia, his partner, who brings warmth, hospitality, and a deep commitment to the social and sensory dimensions of the project. Together, they have transformed Bagolaro into a place where wine, food, and nature are inseparable — where visitors do not merely taste wine but experience a living, breathing agricultural philosophy.

The vineyard has been progressively replanted since 2008, using the traditional bush vine (alberello) training method that is native to Etna. This is not a convenience; it is a necessity. The narrow, well-ventilated terraces that wind around an old crater demand a low, compact vine that can withstand the wind, absorb the volcanic heat, and produce grapes of concentration and character. The dry stone walls that extend down the valley do more than hold the earth; they channel the sea breeze back toward the vines, moderating the heat and preserving the acidity that defines Etna wine. Diego and Cinzia did not invent this system; they restored it, honoured it, and allowed it to speak again.

The name Malandrino carries a wink of mischief — a nod to the rogue, the rule-breaker, the one who refuses to conform. It is fitting. Diego does not follow any particular cellar rules; he proceeds by tasting, by feeling, by responding to what each season offers. He is not organic-certified, but his practices exceed many certified estates: no copper, minimal sulfur, home-produced compost, spontaneous grassing, controlled grazing, and a level of biodiversity that turns the farm into a habitat rather than a monoculture. The result is a winery that is not merely producing wine but protecting soil, preserving tradition, and building community — one terracotta amphora at a time.

The guiding philosophy of Cantina del Malandrino is expressed in two words: empirical intuition. Diego Bongiovanni follows an approach that favours observation and experience without neglecting the scientific aspect — an engineer's mind applied to a farmer's soul. His choices vary according to the peculiarities of each season and what the vineyard offers at the end of the ripening cycle. There is no recipe, no consultant, no protocol that overrides the vintage. There is only the vineyard, the tasting, and the patience to let the wine become what it wants to be. This is not negligence; it is a deeper form of attention — one that listens to the grapes rather than dictating to them.

The methodology is deliberately minimal and fundamentally volcanic. All grapes are hand-harvested across the 4 hectares of bush-trained vines, with micro-harvests that allow Diego to pick each parcel at optimal ripeness. Fermentation is spontaneous — initiated by the indigenous yeasts that live on the grape skins and in the volcanic air of Mascali. Diego does not inoculate with cultured yeasts, adjust temperatures aggressively, or force the wine into a predetermined shape. The maceration takes place in terracotta and cocciopesto amphorae — porous vessels that allow micro-oxygenation without the heavy intrusion of oak, preserving the purity of the volcanic fruit while adding texture and depth. Aging continues in terracotta amphorae and/or barrique, depending on the vintage and the variety.

The additives protocol is minimal: no sulfur during fermentation. The goal is to allow the entire native yeast flora to fully unfold during winemaking — it stabilises and preserves the wine naturally, a strength that comes from within. The wines are bottled with minimal sulfites added only when necessary, and no filtration or clarification. This demands absolute cleanliness in the cellar, perfect grape health in the vineyard, and a willingness to accept that each bottle will carry the slight haze and living texture of a wine that has not been stripped of its identity. Diego prefers single-varietal wines, which allow him to explore the expressions of each grape variety. When he does blend, he decides after at least a year of refinement, creating mini-assemblies in 5-litre bottles that rest for about a month before he chooses the one he prefers.

The cellar is not a technological facility; it is an extension of the vineyard — a space where empirical observation, terracotta vessels, and volcanic intuition do the work. There is no temperature-controlled tank farm dictating additions, no recipe that overrides the season. There is only Diego, Cinzia, the grapes, the amphorae, and the patience to let the wine take the time it needs. The result is a portfolio of wines that are honest, spontaneous, and alive — wines that change in the glass, that evolve in the bottle, and that carry the unmistakable signature of a man who has spent two decades learning to listen to lava. As one visitor put it: "They are wonderful crazy people... listening to them (and drinking their wine) is a pleasure and teaches that even these harsh and difficult areas have an opportunity."

To understand Cantina del Malandrino, one must understand that it is not merely a winery; it is a resurrection project, a biodiversity sanctuary, and a proof that an engineer can have a farmer's heart. The identity of the project is defined by empirical intuition — Diego's refusal to follow rules, his insistence on tasting rather than measuring, and his belief that the vineyard writes the vintage, not the winemaker. The identity is also defined by terroir — the ancient lava flow, the bush vines, the sea breeze, and the dawn light of Mascali that together create a wine of unmistakable volcanic character.

The identity is also defined by family and hospitality — Diego and Cinzia have built not just a cellar but a home. The renovated farmhouses, constructed according to bioarchitecture criteria, welcome visitors who come not merely to drink wine but to understand a way of life. The farm is not a monoculture; it is a living ecosystem of avocados, citrus, almonds, pomegranates, olives, and vines, where controlled grazing and spontaneous grassing maintain the balance that no chemical could replicate. The result is a portfolio of wines that are not merely products but expressions of a place — each bottle a testament to the conviction that wine should be authentic, volcanic, and full of empirical truth.

The future of Cantina del Malandrino is tied to the continued health of their 4 hectares of volcanic terraces, the deepening of natural agriculture practices, and the gradual expansion of a portfolio that already spans orange, rosé, and red. Diego and Cinzia are eager to go further — to experiment with longer macerations, to explore new expressions of Carricante and Catarratto, and to obtain ever more natural, textural expressions from the fruit of their own Etna soils. The Angelica and Bramante will continue to be the orange-wine flagships, the Araba Fenice and Etienne the rosé ambassadors, and the Malandrino and Lupo Cappuccio the red-wine soul of the estate.

In an age of increasing industrialisation in wine — of global varieties, engineered yeasts, and corporate consolidation — Cantina del Malandrino stands as a compelling alternative, not because it rejects modernity but because it has embraced a deeper modernity: one that values natural agriculture over chemical convenience, indigenous yeasts over inoculation, terracotta amphorae over stainless steel uniformity, no filtration over cosmetic clarity, bush vines over trellised efficiency, micro-harvests over bulk picking, home-produced compost over synthetic fertiliser, empirical intuition over consultant protocols, and the specific voice of Mascali over the standardised replication of a global style. Diego and Cinzia Bongiovanni are not merely making wine; they are proving that a ruined pre-war winery can be reborn, that a 4-hectare estate on Etna's steepest slope can produce wines of international recognition, that a wine with nothing added but volcanic truth can possess the most profound identity, and that the simplest philosophy — listen to the vineyard, taste, and trust — is often the most profound. From the first replanted bush vine in 2008 to the 2024 release: all united in one estate, one ecosystem, one unanswerable argument for the possibility of authentic, natural, terracotta-aged, hand-made, passionately honest wine from the volcanic heart of eastern Etna.