Paolo Monti was not destined for wine.
His family comes from Canavese, near Turin — a region better known for Erbaluce di Caluso than for Barolo. As a teenager, barely having got his driving licence, he was already travelling through the vineyards of Champagne, Mosel, Friuli, Tuscany, and as far as Rioja. Not as a tourist — but as an inquisitive mind wanting to understand why some wines leave an impression while others are forgotten.
It was during his military service that he met Roberto Giardino, today his business partner and oenologist. From this meeting, a joint project was born in 1995.
Their first Barbera was released in 1997 — 2,700 bottles, ten new barriques. A modest bet. Then an influential American critic rated it above 90 points. Overnight, the entire batch was shipped to the United States and Switzerland.
In 1999, they bought their first parcels in Bussia and ventured into Barolo. A great vintage, a great confidence.
What followed was thirty years of crises navigated one by one: 11 September 2001, the rain of 2002 that forced them to declassify all their Barolo into table wine, the financial crisis of 2008, Brexit, Covid, the war in Ukraine.
“In thirty years, we’ve seen it all. If you didn’t believe in your project, you would have stopped by now.”
Since 2011, the estate has generated 100% of its energy from solar panels. They sell 80% of it — not out of some grand ecological conviction, but simply because it makes sense.
Paolo doesn't like the word “expensive”. He prefers “costly” — the nuance matters: a high price should always reflect real work, not just an image.
He compares reducing yields to a sprint: running the 100 metres with a ten-kilogram backpack. Fewer bunches, more concentration — the vine, like the runner, cannot give everything at once.
After years in which the region's Barolos grew in power and structure, to the point where some customers would leave their glasses half-full at restaurants, Paolo reintroduced a word to his winemaking criteria: drinkability.
Even today, he still works nearly 18 hours a day, with each parcel harvested separately according to its colour, structure, and unique power.
Every morning, the same spectacular view over the hills awaits him. He admits, without much ceremony, that it has become a routine.
“Today, luxury is not about going to a five-star hotel. Luxury is having time to dedicate to yourself.”