The Godfather, the Ottocento & the Krasica Hand
Clai Bijele Zemlje is the vision of Giorgio Clai — colloquially known as "The Godfather of Istrian Wine" and widely regarded as Croatia's most uncompromising natural winemaker. Located in the tiny village of Krasica, just south of Buje in northern Istria, a stone's throw from the Italian and Slovenian borders, the estate has been producing profound natural wines since 2001 from 10 hectares of vineyards and 5 hectares of olive trees. Giorgio returned to Croatia after working in the Italian restaurant business, driven by a love for wine that had always been his hobby. He began in the 1990s against all odds and judgment — people called him crazy, said his wines were terrible, and nobody wanted to drink them. Today, his orange Malvasia is listed in Decanter's "10 wines you should try" and Margaret Rand's "101 wines to try before you die". The philosophy is absolute: no herbicides, no insecticides, no fungicides, no enzymes, no sugar, no additives, no filtration. Grapes are hand-picked, de-stemmed, and gravity-fed into open wooden casks where they ferment on their skins with natural yeast for weeks or months. The wines are then aged in big wooden barrels for years before release. The name "Bijele Zemlje" means "White Lands" — a reference to the pale limestone flysch soils that define this corner of Istria. This is not a winery; it is a temple to natural wine purism.
The Godfather, the Restaurant & the Istrian Hand
Giorgio Clai was not born in a cellar. He grew up in Croatia but spent his professional years in Italy working in the restaurant business — a world of service, timing, and the pursuit of pleasure. Yet wine had always been his true fascination, a hobby that consumed his thoughts and his free time. In the 1990s, he made a decision that would reshape Croatian viticulture: he returned home to Krasica, a small village south of Buje in northern Istria, close to the Italian and Slovenian borders, and began making wine the way he believed it should be made — naturally, by hand, without compromise.
The early years were brutal. "People were saying I am crazy. That my wines are terrible and nobody wanted to drink them," Giorgio recalls with laughter now, but the pain of those rejections was real. He was working against the grain of an industry that prized volume, freshness, and homogenisation. In the '90s, he was already experimenting with mixing Pinot Noir and Chardonnay — everything done by hand and by his family. Harvesting, de-stemming, even the grape crushing was done by his wife and daughter with their feet. His brother, impatient with the painstaking process, would yell: "Are you insane?! No one is producing wine by hand like that since Ottocento!" — using the Italian word for the 1800s. And there it was: the perfect name for their most famous wine. Ever since, Ottocento has been the flagship label for both white and red blends.
The guiding philosophy is absolute and unwavering: "We are not making wine, we cherish it." Since the beginning, Giorgio has followed natural and biodynamic principles — no herbicides, no insecticides, no fungicides in the vineyard. No enzymes, no sugar, no additives in the cellar. No filtration. Ever. The grapes are hand-picked, de-stemmed, and gravity-fed into open large wooden casks where they ferment on their skins with only natural yeast. After fermentation, the wines are aged in big wooden barrels for years before release. For Giorgio, natural wine is not a trend; it is the only way he knows. As he says: "It is our tradition." This is not industrial winemaking; it is Istrian viticulture as ancestral purism.
"People were saying I am crazy. That my wines are terrible and nobody wanted to drink them."
— Giorgio Clai, Clai Bijele Zemlje
Krasica, the White Lands & the Adriatic Hand
Krasica is a tiny village in northern Istria, Croatia — just south of the town of Buje and a stone's throw from the Italian and Slovenian borders. This is the heart of what locals call "Bijele Zemlje" — the White Lands — a reference to the pale, limestone-rich soils that define the landscape. The estate encompasses 10 hectares of vineyards and 5 hectares of olive trees, situated at approximately 200 metres above sea level. The vines enjoy plenty of sunshine but also benefit from cool and salty sea breezes blowing from the Adriatic, some 10 kilometres to the west. The result is a microclimate of warm days, cool nights, and constant maritime influence — ideal for slow, balanced ripening and the preservation of natural acidity.
The soils are limestone flysch — a layered sedimentary rock of sandstone, marl, and clay that is low in fertility and provides excellent drainage. This poor, rocky soil stresses the vines, forces deep rooting, and imparts a signature mineral clarity and chalky tension to the wines. The name Bijele Zemlje is not poetic exaggeration; it is a geological fact. The white limestone dominates the landscape, reflecting sunlight back onto the vines and creating a luminous, high-altitude quality in the wines. This is not the fertile red terra rossa of southern Istria; it is the demanding, pale, mineral soil of the northern peninsula — a terroir that demands patience and rewards purity.
The property operates under organic and biodynamic principles without seeking certification. Giorgio believes that the three approaches — organic, natural, and biodynamic — connect into one system, and the most important thing is purism. The vineyards are tended by hand, the grapes are harvested by hand, and the cellar work is done by hand. The family — Giorgio, his wife Vesna, and their son Tim — are involved in every aspect of the operation. For Giorgio, the vineyard is not just a source of grapes; it is a living organism that must be respected, not manipulated. The goal is not to make wine but to cherish it — to allow the terroir to speak through the grape without interference.
Krasica is a small, quiet village in the municipality of Buje, in the northernmost part of the Istrian peninsula. Its proximity to Italy and Slovenia gives it a unique cultural character — Italian is spoken as readily as Croatian, and the culinary traditions blend seamlessly across borders. For Giorgio Clai, Krasica is not just a base; it is the origin of everything. The village is surrounded by olive groves, vineyards, and forest, with views westward to the Adriatic. The stone houses, the narrow lanes, and the silence of the countryside create an atmosphere of timelessness that permeates the cellar. This is a place where the past is not forgotten — it is the foundation of the future.
The Clai cellar is famously small and intimate — a modest space where everything is done by hand. The grapes are gravity-fed into open large wooden casks for fermentation on the skins, using only natural yeast. There are no temperature controls, no pumps, no filters. After fermentation, the wines are transferred to big wooden barrels where they age for years before release. The cellar is cool, dark, and quiet — a space where time moves slowly and the wines are allowed to find their own equilibrium. Giorgio does not rush. He does not manipulate. He lets the wine evolve at its own pace, checking, tasting, and waiting. This is not a modern winery; it is a workshop of patience and purism.
The soils at Clai are limestone flysch — a layered sedimentary rock of sandstone, marl, and clay that is low in fertility and provides excellent drainage. This soil composition is perfect for growing the estate's principal varieties: Malvasia Istriana and Refosco. The limestone provides mineral complexity and chalky tension, while the marl and clay retain just enough water and nutrients to keep the vines alive. The low fertility stresses the vines, forcing them to dig deep for sustenance and producing grapes of extraordinary concentration and mineral clarity. The white colour of the soil reflects sunlight back onto the vines, enhancing photosynthesis and contributing to the luminous quality of the wines. This is not easy soil; it is the demanding, ancient soil of a place that has been making wine for millennia.
The estate is not just vineyards; it is also 5 hectares of olive trees that have been part of the family tradition for generations. The olive groves and vineyards share the same limestone flysch soils and the same Adriatic breeze. The sea air, blowing from 10 kilometres to the west, moderates temperatures, prevents disease, and imparts a subtle saline character to both the wines and the oils. The combination of olive and vine is central to the Istrian identity, and the Clai family honours both. The olive oil is produced naturally, alongside the wine, and both are served at the family table with local prosciutto, cheese, and bread. For Giorgio, the farm is a closed system where every element — vine, olive, tree, bee, and human — has its place.
The Open Cask, the Natural Yeast & the Patient Hand
Giorgio Clai's winemaking philosophy is rooted in absolute purism and ancestral tradition. In the cellar, there are no shortcuts, no tricks, and no compromises. The grapes are hand-picked and de-stemmed, then gravity-fed into open large wooden casks where they ferment on their skins with only natural yeast. Giorgio does not add enzymes, sugar, or any other additives. He does not filter. He does not fine. The wines are left to ferment and macerate for weeks or months — depending on the vintage, the variety, and the wine's own rhythm. The Sv. Jakov Malvasia, for example, can macerate for up to four months — an extraordinary length that extracts phenolics, tannins, and colour while preserving the grape's delicate aromatics.
After fermentation, the wines are transferred to big wooden barrels where they age for years before release. Giorgio believes that time is the only true stabiliser — that clarity, integration, and complexity come not from filtration or additives but from patience and the quiet chemistry of wood and wine. The barrels are large, minimising wood influence while allowing gentle micro-oxygenation. The result is wines of profound depth, living texture, and unmistakable terroir character — not funky or flawed, but honest and powerful. Giorgio uses a pied de cuve only when he believes a particular vintage needs it — typically in difficult conditions or when sugar levels are high. Otherwise, fermentation begins spontaneously, capturing the microbial fingerprint of the Krasica vineyard.
The only concession to modernity is a minimal, practical approach to sulphur — though Giorgio's philosophy leans toward zero additions wherever possible. The wines are bottled without filtration, which means they may show natural sediment or haze — a sign of life, not a flaw. Giorgio is constantly learning. "I think I learn something new every year," he says. "I think we miss 300–400 years of experience." Each vintage is different, and each wine reflects the conditions of the year — easy or difficult, warm or cool, dry or wet. This is why the year of harvest is written on every label. The result is a portfolio of wines that are alive, evolving, and deeply personal — each one a reflection of Giorgio's character and the Krasica terroir.
The Open Cask Covenant & the Four-Month Maceration
The guiding principle of Giorgio's cellar is that the best wine is the one that needs the least intervention and the most time. The open wooden casks allow the fermenting grapes to breathe, creating a gentle, natural exchange of oxygen that supports healthy spontaneous fermentation. The extended maceration — up to four months for Sv. Jakov — extracts phenolics, tannins, and colour from the Malvasia skins, resulting in a wine of extraordinary depth, structure, and amber-gold beauty. The big wooden barrels provide a neutral, slow-ageing environment where the wine can integrate and evolve without the influence of new oak. The absence of filtration preserves the wine's living texture and microbial complexity. And the absence of additives — no enzymes, no sugar, no commercial yeast — ensures that what is in the bottle is nothing but grape, time, and terroir. The cellar is a quiet, dark space where a former restauranteur lets the limestone flysch, the Adriatic breeze, and the ancient wisdom of open-cask fermentation do the talking. As Giorgio says: "We are not making wine, we cherish it."
Malvasia, Refosco, Ottocento & the Krasica Hand
The Clai portfolio is deliberately focused — each wine is a distinct expression of the estate's purist philosophy, each one macerated and aged for years before release. The wines range from copper-hued orange Malvasia to deep, earthy Refosco to sparkling wines and traditional blends. All are made with indigenous yeasts, zero additives, no filtration, and extended ageing in big wooden barrels — wines that are honest, powerful, and deeply expressive of the limestone flysch and Adriatic breeze of northern Istria. Production is small — approximately 35,000 bottles per year — with each wine released only when Giorgio believes it is ready. The names tell stories: Ottocento recalls the 1800s manual labour; Sv. Jakov honours the saint; Stara Škola means "Old School."
The Godfather's Dream, the White Lands & the Krasica Hand
Clai Bijele Zemlje is not merely a winery; it is a manifesto realised — the story of how a former Italian restauranteur, ridiculed and rejected in the 1990s, built Croatia's most uncompromising natural wine estate in a tiny village on the Italian border, producing orange Malvasia that would be listed in Decanter and Margaret Rand's "101 wines to try before you die". In an era when Croatian wine was defined by industrial scale, chemical dependence, and the homogenisation of flavour, Giorgio Clai demonstrated that the most profound wines sometimes come from 10 hectares of limestone flysch, fermented by hand in open wooden casks with natural yeast, aged for years in big barrels, and bottled without filtration or additives. It is largely thanks to projects like Clai that orange Malvasia, natural winemaking, and biodynamic Istrian viticulture now have a place in the global natural wine conversation. The same village that locals called crazy has become, through his work, a pilgrimage site for wine lovers from Amsterdam to Tokyo.
The legacy of Clai is the legacy of the purist hand in Croatian viticulture. Giorgio is not a typical winery founder: he is a former restauranteur who returned home to make wine as a hobby, who was told his wines were terrible, who crushed grapes with his wife and daughter's feet, who named his flagship wine after his brother's insult about the 1800s, who macerates Malvasia for four months, who ages wines for years before release, and who believes that the best wine is the one that needs no additives. He does not chase volume. He does not chase trends. He makes wines with names like Ottocento, Sv. Jakov, and Stara Škola — each one a story, each one a rebellion, each one a return to the ancestral methods of Istria — and he makes them with the same conviction that defined his first vintage in 2002. The zero additives are not a marketing claim; they are a way of life that allows the wine to speak without masking its Krasica soul.
The future of the project is tied to the future of natural and biodynamic viticulture on the limestone flysch of northern Istria — to the growing recognition that the best wines come not from the biggest cellars but from the most committed guardians of white soil, open casks, and ancient patience. As the Sv. Jakov continues to set the benchmark for orange Malvasia in Europe, as the Ottocento reds prove that Refosco can age with the depth of Barolo, and as the next generation — Tim and the family — carry the torch forward, Giorgio Clai remains what he has always intended to be: a man who cherishes wine rather than making it — a former restauranteur who trusted the soil, the natural yeast, and the open wooden cask, and who built something enduring on the Italian border. The dream is not finished. It is just beginning to age.
"We are not making wine, we cherish it."
— Giorgio Clai, Clai Bijele Zemlje