The Architect, the Biobío Hills & the Tinaja Hand
Patrick Burke is a young man of German origin who, after studying architecture, working vintages in Europe, and sailing the world on cruise ships, landed in Chile and fell in love with the culture and the landscapes. Founded in 2019 in the Secano Interior of the Biobío Region, his project Pü Wines is dedicated to expressing the true identity of one of Chile's most southern and least celebrated wine valleys. Working with very old vines — often over a hundred years old — of País, Cinsault, and Moscatel de Alejandría, rooted ungrafted in volcanic, clayey, and sandy soils, Patrick farms without irrigation and follows biodynamic principles. In the cellar, fermentations are entirely spontaneous, taking place in ancient terracotta tinajas and traditional raulí wood lagares, with long macerations on the skins — even for white grapes — lasting up to six months. The wines are then aged in exhausted oak barrels. There is no clarification, no filtration, no additives, and no sulphites whatsoever. The result is a portfolio of rustic, lively, and carefree wines — full of vigour, energy, and the unmistakable spirit of the Biobío Secano.
The Architect, the Cruise Ships & the Biobío Hand
Patrick Burke was not born into wine. He was born into architecture and wanderlust — a young German who studied building design, then spent years working vintages in European wineries and travelling the world on cruise ships, before a single decision changed the course of his life: he would settle in Chile. Captivated by the culture, the landscapes, and the raw potential of the southern valleys, Patrick began working at a small local winery in 2017, refining his technique and learning the rhythms of the Secano Interior. Two years later, in 2019, he launched his own project: Pü Wines — a name as short, sharp, and memorable as the wines themselves.
The decision to base the project in the Biobío Region was deliberate and daring. While the world's attention was fixed on the Central Valley, Casablanca, and the glamour of Colchagua, Patrick looked south — to the Secano Interior of Biobío and the neighbouring Itata Valley — where ancient bush vines of País, Cinsault, and Moscatel de Alejandría have been growing dry-farmed and ungrafted for over a century. These are not the manicured vineyards of the industrial north; they are wild, gnarled, and deeply rooted in volcanic, clayey, and sandy soils that have never seen irrigation, chemical fertiliser, or modern machinery. For Patrick, these vines were not a raw material; they were a heritage to be protected and a voice to be amplified.
From the very beginning, Patrick's philosophy has been one of radical respect. The vineyards are farmed according to biodynamic principles — not as a certification strategy, but as a way of thinking about the farm as a living organism. The grapes are hand-harvested. The cellar operates with zero sulphites, zero additives, zero clarification, and zero filtration. This is not industrial winemaking; it is Secano viticulture as a life project — architecture in liquid form, built from old vines, terracotta, and time.
"The production of Pü Wines consists of wines with a rustic and lively character, full of vigor and energy. The illustrations on the labels already hint at the carefree spirit that will be found in the glass."
— Call Me Wine, Pü Wines Profile
Secano Interior, the Biobío River & the Volcanic Hand
The Biobío Region is the southern extreme of Chilean viticulture — roughly 650 kilometres south of Santiago, named after the mighty Río Biobío that cuts through its heart. It is a frontier zone: cooler, wetter, and more volatile than the famous valleys to the north. The Secano Interior — the interior dryland — is where the old vines live, sheltered from the coastal rains by low hills and blessed with a microclimate of warm days, cool nights, and persistent wind. This is not the Chile of glossy export brochures; it is the Chile of small farmers, horse-drawn ploughs, and 200-year-old bush vines that have survived phylloxera, earthquakes, and the indifference of the modern wine industry.
Patrick's vineyards are planted to País, Cinsault, and Moscatel de Alejandría — the three heritage varieties that define the Secano Interior. The vines are often over a hundred years old, ungrafted (pie franco), and dry-farmed — never irrigated, even in the driest summers. The soils are a complex mix of volcanic, clayey, and sandy compositions — a terroir that stresses the vines, forces deep rooting, and imparts a signature mineral clarity and rustic texture to the wines. The volcanic component adds a smoky, earthy depth; the clay retains water and nutrients; the sand provides drainage and finesse. Together, they create a soil profile that is both challenging and rewarding — a place where only the most patient and committed vines survive.
The property operates under biodynamic management — composting, cover crops, and natural treatments replace chemical inputs. The goal is not just to grow grapes but to build soil health, increase biodiversity, and create a self-sustaining ecosystem where the vineyard is part of a larger agricultural whole. The cool climate of the area — influenced by the Pacific to the west and the Andes to the east — ensures slow ripening, high natural acidity, and wines of remarkable freshness despite the southern latitude. For Patrick, the Secano Interior is not just a place to make wine; it is the soul of the project — a landscape that demands humility and rewards patience.
The Secano Interior of Biobío is one of Chile's most authentic and least developed wine zones. It is a landscape of smallholdings, ancient bush vines, and farmers who have worked the land for generations without irrigation or chemicals. The climate is cool and unpredictable, with high rainfall in winter and dry, windy summers. The soils are volcanic, clayey, and sandy — a mix that is both infertile and deeply expressive. For Patrick, this is not a disadvantage; it is the project's greatest asset. The Secano Interior offers something that the Central Valley cannot: vines that have never been grafted, never been irrigated, and never been industrialised. It is a place where the past is still alive in the present — and where the future of Chilean natural wine is being written.
The vineyards of Pü Wines are populated by vines that were planted before the First World War — some over a century old, all ungrafted, all dry-farmed. These are not the neat, trellised rows of the modern vineyard; they are bush vines, gobelet-trained, with thick, twisted trunks and deep root systems that reach metres into the volcanic subsoil. Because phylloxera never reached Chile, these vines grow on their own roots, expressing the terroir with a directness that is impossible in grafted vineyards. The old vines produce tiny yields of intensely concentrated grapes — País with its wild strawberry and herbal character, Cinsault with its floral elegance, and Moscatel de Alejandría with its aromatic, grapey intensity. For Patrick, these vines are not a resource to be exploited; they are a heritage to be honoured.
The soils at Pü Wines are a triad of volcanic, clayey, and sandy compositions — each contributing a different voice to the final wine. The volcanic soils provide a smoky, earthy, mineral backbone that is particularly evident in the País and Cinsault. The clay retains moisture and nutrients, allowing the vines to survive the dry summers without irrigation while adding a dense, textured quality to the wines. The sand ensures drainage, prevents disease, and contributes a fine, elegant structure — especially noticeable in the Moscatel de Alejandría. Together, these soils create a terroir that is both rugged and refined: the wines are rustic in texture but precise in their mineral expression. This is not the alluvial flatland of the Central Valley; it is the rocky, windswept, volcanic hillside of the Secano Interior.
Patrick follows biodynamic principles in the vineyard — not as a marketing label, but as a practical philosophy of closed-loop agriculture. The vines are dry-farmed, meaning they rely entirely on winter rainfall and the water-retaining capacity of the clay soils. No irrigation means the vines must struggle, but it also means they develop deep roots and intense concentration. Biodynamic preparations, composting, and natural cover crops replace synthetic chemicals. The goal is to build a living, self-sustaining farm where the vineyard is part of a larger ecosystem. This approach is not about nostalgia; it is about the practical belief that healthy soil produces healthy grapes, and healthy grapes produce honest wine. For Patrick, biodynamics is not a philosophy but a way of farming that makes sense — and makes wine that tastes like the place it comes from.
The Tinaja, the Lagar & the Six-Month Hand
Patrick Burke's winemaking is defined by a single, unbreakable commitment: zero intervention, zero sulphites, zero additives. In the cellar, fermentations are carried out by indigenous yeasts alone — no commercial inoculation, no temperature control, no stainless steel tanks with cooling jackets. The wines ferment in tinajas — ancient traditional terracotta amphorae of 400 and 1,100 litres — or in typical raulí wood vats called lagar. These are not modern vessels chosen for fashion; they are traditional Chilean containers that have been used in the Secano Interior for generations, imparting a gentle, earthy, textural quality that is unmistakably local.
The defining feature of Patrick's winemaking is long maceration on the skins — even for the white grapes. The Moscatel de Alejandría, a white variety, is fermented with its skins for a period that can last up to six months, transforming it into an orange wine of extraordinary depth and tannic structure. After the maceration period, the wines are transferred to exhausted oak barrels for the ageing phase that precedes bottling. Throughout the entire process, clarification and filtration are banned, as is the use of any additives or oenological aids — including sulphites. The wines are unfiltered, unfined, and unsulphured from harvest to bottle.
The result is wine that is alive, rustic, and deeply textured — wine that carries the imprint of the old vines, the volcanic soils, the terracotta tinajas, and the patient hand of a German architect who became a Chilean vigneron. The labels, decorated with playful illustrations, hint at the carefree spirit inside the bottle: these are not serious, solemn wines; they are wines of joy, energy, and uncomplicated pleasure. But beneath the playful surface lies a rigour that is rare even in the natural wine world — a commitment to zero sulphur, zero additives, and six months of skin contact that demands both courage and conviction.
The Tinaja & Lagar Covenant
The guiding principle of Patrick's cellar is that the best wine is the one that needs the least technology. The tinajas — terracotta amphorae of 400 and 1,100 litres — allow for gentle oxygen exchange and a distinct earthy, mineral quality that is impossible to achieve in steel or new oak. The raulí wood lagares — traditional Chilean vats made from native beechwood — add a subtle, spicy, woody character that is specific to the Secano Interior. The long macerations — up to six months on the skins, even for white grapes — extract tannins, colour, and phenolic compounds that give the wines their signature rustic texture and ageing potential. The exhausted oak barrels provide a neutral, stable environment for the ageing phase, adding no new wood character but allowing the wine to settle and integrate. And the absence of sulphites, filtration, and clarification means the wine retains its natural microbial complexity, its living texture, and its honest expression of the Biobío terroir. The cellar is a quiet, cool space where an architect lets the old vines, the volcanic soil, and the terracotta do the talking.
País, Cinsault, Moscatel de Alejandría & the Tinaja Hand
The Patrick Burke portfolio is small, focused, and entirely handmade — just three heritage varieties from 100+ year-old ungrafted vines, each one chosen for its affinity with the volcanic, clayey, and sandy soils of the Secano Interior. The País is the soul of the project — Chile's original grape, light and herbal and utterly authentic, from vines that have survived centuries of neglect. The Cinsault is the elegant one — floral, red-fruited, and surprisingly refined. The Moscatel de Alejandría is the wild card — a white grape transformed by six months of skin contact into an orange wine of extraordinary texture and aromatic intensity. All are made with indigenous yeasts, zero sulphur, and no filtration — wines that are rustic, lively, and deeply expressive of their place.
The Architect's Dream, the Carefree Spirit & the Tinaja Hand
Patrick Burke is not merely a winemaker; he is a manifesto realised — the story of how a German architect, after working vintages in Europe and sailing the world, settled in the southern Secano Interior of Chile to produce zero-sulphite natural wine from 100+ year-old ungrafted vines in terracotta tinajas and raulí wood lagares. In an era when Chilean wine was defined by industrial scale, export volume, and technological intervention, Patrick demonstrated that the most profound wines sometimes come from three heritage varieties — País, Cinsault, and Moscatel de Alejandría — farmed biodynamically, fermented spontaneously, and aged with patience in exhausted oak barrels. It is largely thanks to projects like Pü Wines that the Biobío Region, the Secano Interior, and southern Chilean viticulture now have a place in the global natural wine conversation. The same old vines that the industrial machine ignored have become, through his work, a source of some of the most rustic, lively, and carefree wines in the country.
The legacy of Patrick Burke is the legacy of the playful hand in Chilean viticulture. Patrick is not a typical Chilean winery founder: he is a German architect who makes wine with illustrations on the labels, who ferments white grapes on their skins for six months, who uses terracotta tinajas and raulí lagares instead of stainless steel, and who believes that the best wine is the one that needs the least technology and the most joy. He does not chase volume. He does not chase scores. He does not even chase solemnity — his wines are described as rustic, lively, full of vigour and energy, with a carefree spirit that is evident from the label to the last sip. He makes three wines — one red, one elegant red, one orange — and he makes them with the same precision and creativity that defined his former career in architecture. The zero sulphites is not a compromise; it is a philosophical stance that allows the wine to remain honest, unmanipulated, and deeply connected to its place.
The future of the project is tied to the future of natural viticulture and zero-sulphite winemaking in the southern Secano Interior — to the growing recognition that the best wines come not from the most equipped cellars but from the most committed guardians of old vines, traditional vessels, and biodynamic patience. As the País continues to set the benchmark for rustic authenticity in Biobío, as the Cinsault proves that the Secano Interior can produce reds of real elegance and finesse, and as the Moscatel de Alejandría demonstrates that even the most aromatic white grape can produce wines of world-class texture and complexity through six months of skin contact, Patrick Burke remains what he has always intended to be: an architect who became a farmer — a man who trusted the old vines, the terracotta, and the volcanic soil of Biobío, and who built something enduring in the hills of the Secano Interior. The dream is not finished. It is just beginning to macerate.
"The young Chilean winery Pu Wines was born in 2019 with the aim of expressing the true identity of Bio Bio — a region located in the central zone of Chile named after the homonymous river."
— Call Me Wine, Pü Wines Profile