The Volcanic Collective & the Healthy Body

The story of United Cellars of Tekov begins with two men who could not accept the paradox of organic isolation. Marek Uhnák, winemaker at Pivnica Čajkov, and Ján Záborský, winemaker at Pivnica Brhlovce, are lifelong Tekov vulcanists — born and raised in the shadow of the Štiavnica Mountains, trained by the same volcanic soils, and committed to the same non-interventionist philosophy. Both farm their own small parcels organically. Both make zero-sulfur, unfiltered, spontaneously fermented wines. And both faced the same insurmountable problem: their vineyards are tiny islands of organic health surrounded by a sea of conventionally farmed, chemically treated neighbors.

The post-socialist parcelation of Tekov vineyards made this problem structural. When communism fell, the collective vineyards were reprivatized and divided among local families and all entitled family members. The result is a landscape of microscopic plots — some cherished, some ignored, many farmed with synthetic treatments because that is what the growers were taught. Marek and Ján realized that they could not control their neighbors' practices. They also realized that what somebody does on their soil has an impact on the neighboring soil, either positive or negative. An organic vineyard surrounded by chemical agriculture is not truly organic; it is a lung breathing poisoned air.

In 2020, they sat down to reflect on the last couple of years and ponder the future. They owned a sizeable plot of vineyards together — produce that had been sold to other wineries and never used in their own cellars. The idea emerged naturally: what if they could convince their neighbors to convert to organic by offering them support and serving as the outlet for the wines? United Cellars of Tekov was born from this simple, revolutionary thought. It is a collaborative enterprise between local Tekov vine growers and two winemakers who understand that the region is like an organism — you cannot take the heart from the body and say this is a healthy heart. You can only say this is a healthy body.

The project is deliberately non-dogmatic about varieties. Marek and Ján do not dictate what grapes the growers must plant. What matters is the quality of the ingredients and the farming philosophy. The requirement is organic — certified or in conversion. If the grower has cellar space, the wine is made there; if not, Marek and Ján provide a local cellar. In both situations, they conceive their recipes as the grapes are harvested, adapting to the material rather than imposing a style. The labels are designed by Klára Zápotocká of Deset Deka Design in Prague, giving each cuvée a visual identity as distinctive as its liquid contents.

The winemaking philosophy at United Cellars of Tekov is governed by a single, uncompromising principle: the region is an organism, and every wine must be healthy enough to heal the body. This is not metaphorical; it is practical ecology. Marek and Ján believe that an organic vineyard surrounded by chemical agriculture cannot be truly healthy, because water, wind, and wildlife do not respect property boundaries. The only solution is to expand the organic footprint — plot by plot, grower by grower, vintage by vintage — until the entire region breathes in harmony. The winemaking is the tool that makes this expansion economically viable.

All wines are made with minimal intervention and zero added sulfur. The process begins with manual harvest in 20-kilogram crates, ensuring pristine fruit arrival. The grapes are destemmed and crushed, then fermented spontaneously with indigenous yeasts in stainless steel tanks or the grower's own cellar vessels. There are no selected yeasts, no enzymes, no temperature control, no chaptalisation, and no acidification. Skin maceration periods vary by variety and vintage — three to four days for Muscat, three days for Riesling, five days for Neronet — extracting colour, texture, and natural preservatives without industrial additives.

Ageing is carried out in stainless steel or neutral vessels, with wines resting on their fine lees for extended periods. Several batonnage may be performed for texture, but only when the wine demands it. The lees provide natural protection and a subtle creaminess that compensates for the absence of sulfur. Blending decisions are made in the spring, after the wines have spent the winter settling and revealing their true characters. The Neronet and Gewürztraminer components of Kind of Glou, for example, are kept separate until March, then blended before bottling in June. The Pinot Noir for Cherry on Tuff is given a short, gentle maceration to capture the energy and tanginess of the volcanic soil without extracting harsh tannins.

The wines are bottled without fining and without filtration, carrying their natural sediment, native yeasts, and living microbial character. Zero sulfur is added at any stage. The result is a portfolio of vivid, sometimes hazy, always emotionally honest wines that taste of rhyolite and tuff, of community persuasion, and of the specific volcanic plot where they grew. These are not uniform products; they are individual expressions. As Marek says, each wine is its own expression of land, varieties, and people — and what grape varieties a grower tends are not of concern. What matters is the quality of the ingredients and the health of the soil.

To understand United Cellars of Tekov, one must understand the community organiser — not a romantic figure but a pragmatic one, a winemaker who recognises that wine cannot be separated from its social and ecological context. Marek Uhnák and Ján Záborský are not merely making wine; they are restructuring the agricultural economy of their region, one conversation at a time. The post-socialist parcelation of vineyards created a tragedy of the commons: everyone owned a piece, no one felt responsible for the whole, and chemicals were the easiest path. Marek and Ján's innovation was to make organic conversion economically rational — by providing support, expertise, and a market outlet that removes the risk for small growers who might otherwise fear losing their crop to disease or their income to indifferent buyers.

The vulcanist identity is equally central. Both men are lifelong inhabitants of the Štiavnica volcanic zone, and their wines carry the mineral signature of rhyolite, tuff, and andesite not as a marketing story but as a geological fact. They understand that the 140 mineral varieties in their soils are not a trivia point; they are the engine that drives the wines' freshness, complexity, and ability to age without sulfur. The vulcanist does not fight the volcano; he listens to it. He knows that soft tuff retains moisture, that hard andesite forces deep roots, and that red rhyolite imparts a smoky, flinty character that no other soil can replicate. This knowledge is not academic; it is embodied, inherited, and refined through decades of farming on the same slopes.

The future of United Cellars is tied to the gradual expansion of the organic footprint across Tekov. Every new grower who joins is a victory not merely for the collective but for the region's water table, its biodiversity, and its children's health. The ASAP Riesling will continue to prove that Slovak Riesling can achieve saline complexity. The Cherry on Tuff will continue to challenge preconceptions about rosé. The Kind of Glou will continue to glug. And the Just Kids will continue to remind drinkers that Muscat, when treated seriously, is not merely a simple pleasure but a volcanic statement. The labels by Klára Zápotocká will continue to give each bottle a visual identity as distinctive as its contents.

In an age of increasing homogenisation in wine — of global varieties, engineered yeasts, and technological fixes — United Cellars of Tekov stands as a compelling alternative, not because it rejects modernity but because it has embraced a deeper modernity: one that values community over individualism, organic health over chemical yield, the healthy body over the healthy heart, geological diversity over stylistic uniformity, zero sulfur over preservative crutches, and the specific voice of each grower's plot over the anonymous replication of a brand. Marek Uhnák and Ján Záborský are not merely making wine; they are healing a landscape — from the post-socialist parcelation to the organic collective, from the isolated organic island to the healthy body, from the chemical neighbor to the converted friend. The rhyolite, the tuff, the andesite, the 140 minerals, the grower in Rybník, the grower in Žemberovce, the recipe conceived at harvest, and the name that has meant community-based volcanic natural wine for a generation: all united in one bottle, one slope, one unanswerable argument for the possibility of authentic, place-specific, socially honest, zero-sulfur wine from the Štiavnica foothills.