How One Orange Wine Sparked a Movement—and Friendship in China

Every wine lover has a before-and-after bottle. For writer Simon J Woolf, that bottle was Sandi Skerk’s Ograde from the rocky Carso in Friuli-Venezia Giulia. His story—equal parts cellar epiphany and unexpected nightcap in Ningxia—reminds us that sometimes wine is less about tasting notes and more about flipping the switch on why we care in the first place.

“It was so much more than the sum of its parts.”

—Simon J Woolf, The Morning Claret

Woolf’s piece tracks two moments, eight years and thousands of miles apart, where the same wine—Ograde—opened doors. First, a subterranean tasting with Sandi Skerk in the limestone-sculpted Carso, where four skin-macerated whites became one seamless blend. Later, an empty bar in Yinchuan, Ningxia, where a shy conversation turned into real connection once Ograde hit the glasses. Two continents, one orange wine, and a simple truth: sometimes the bottle chooses you.

Style snapshot: what Ograde is (and why orange wine works)

Let’s decode the magic without getting too nerdy. Ograde is a skin-contact white—a.k.a. orange wine—made from a blend of Vitovska, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio, and Malvasia Istriana. The region is Carso, a rugged corner of Italy’s Adriatic-facing Friuli-Venezia Giulia with fierce winds, thin soils, and producers who prize texture and authenticity. The winemaking cue from Skerk: ferment the whites on their skins for a couple of weeks, then blend. The result reads dry, full-bodied, and textural, with gentle tannin (yes, white wines can have it), spice, orchard fruit, and a savory, tea-like vibe. Don’t expect a neon orange sugar bomb—do expect structure, grip, and food-friendliness for days.

Common wisdom on orange wine: skin-maceration pulls phenolics and color from grape skins, giving whites more chew, copper/orange hues, and a wider pairing range. Woolf’s account underscores the other half of the story: cultural context. In Carso and neighboring Slovenia, producers like Skerk, Gravner, and Radikon helped put skin-contact back on the map. In Georgia, amber wine never left. Ograde isn’t a trend piece; it’s the local dialect of a very old language.

Why this moment matters now

Woolf couldn’t find a book on orange wine back in 2011, so he wrote one—Amber Revolution—and became, in his words, “the orange wine guy.” That arc matters because it shows how a single encounter can bend a career, a palate, a life. And then, just when the narrative could’ve stuck the landing and called it a day, Ograde showed up again—this time in a quiet wine bar in Yinchuan. One bottle later, the table loosened, ideas flowed, and as Woolf writes, “Ograde had worked its magic once again.” The line between wine education and human connection got seriously blurry—in the best way.

Here’s the bigger takeaway: orange wine’s rise isn’t just about somm cred or Instagram hues. It’s about texture as a conversation starter, about wines that don’t behave like “white” or “red” but hold court across a meal. In Woolf’s story, Ograde becomes a cultural translator in a country still writing its wine playbook, turning awkward silence into collaboration plans. That’s not hype; that’s hospitality doing its job.

How to approach this style (whether you’re new or already hooked)

If you’ve been orange-curious but hesitant, think of skin-contact whites as the bridge between the freshness of white wine and the grip of light reds. Carso blends like Ograde lean dry and structured, with a saline throughline that mirrors their coastal limestone roots. They shine with food that usually bullies delicate whites: spice, umami, fat, and char.

Best occasion: small-group dinners where conversation and the playlist matter—anything from hotpot night to a backyard grill session. This is a “let’s slow down and talk” bottle.

Best pairing direction: richly spiced seafood, roasted poultry, charred vegetables, mushroom pasta, or hard alpine cheeses. Don’t fear chili heat; the tannin and texture can hang.

As Woolf notes, the blend’s synergy is the point. Four varieties (Vitovska, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Grigio, Malvasia Istriana) bring their own personalities, but together they read complete. That’s textbook Carso: austere landscape, generous wines.

The closing sip

No need to pretend I’ve tasted the exact bottle here—this is about recognizing a pattern: certain wines become passports. Ograde did that for Woolf in a Triestine cellar and again in a far-flung Chinese bar. If you’ve been waiting for a sign to explore orange wine, consider this a gentle nudge. Find a skin-contact white with some coastal grit, pour it with friends, and let the texture do the talking. And if it changes your trajectory a little? That’s kind of the point.

“Ograde had worked its magic once again.”

—Simon J Woolf, The Morning Claret

Source: https://themorningclaret.com/p/can-wine-change-your-life