Ronchi di Cialla doesn’t make wines for flash. They’ve been tucked into the Colli Orientali for decades, farming native grapes like Cialla’s own Ribolla Gialla, Verduzzo, and Picolit as if time never sped up. The Ciallabianco is their field blend of all three, a Friulian answer to what age can do when patience and restraint are part of the recipe.
The 2014 vintage wasn’t easy—rain and chill made a lot of winemakers nervous—but in bottle, time has smoothed the edges and left something haunting.
You might notice hazelnut and dried apricot, with a little smoke and stone in the background. The texture is smooth, even a bit silky, but there’s still plenty of acidity giving it lift. What stands out isn’t flashy fruit—it’s the layers of depth and the way savory flavors slowly show themselves as the wine breathes.
This isn’t the kind of white that fades after a year. Ten years on, it’s just finding its stride—wax, nuts, herbs, a kind of umami weight that makes you want food nearby. Think roasted poultry, aged Alpine cheese, mushrooms, dishes that like wines with presence. Ciallabianco won’t be mistaken for a modern crowd-pleaser, and that’s the point. It’s Friuli in a bottle, stubborn, distinctive, and worth sitting with.
Ronchi di Cialla doesn’t make wines for flash. They’ve been tucked into the Colli Orientali for decades, farming native grapes like Cialla’s own Ribolla Gialla, Verduzzo, and Picolit as if time never sped up. The Ciallabianco is their field blend of all three, a Friulian answer to what age can do when patience and restraint are part of the recipe.
The 2014 vintage wasn’t easy—rain and chill made a lot of winemakers nervous—but in bottle, time has smoothed the edges and left something haunting.
You might notice hazelnut and dried apricot, with a little smoke and stone in the background. The texture is smooth, even a bit silky, but there’s still plenty of acidity giving it lift. What stands out isn’t flashy fruit—it’s the layers of depth and the way savory flavors slowly show themselves as the wine breathes.
This isn’t the kind of white that fades after a year. Ten years on, it’s just finding its stride—wax, nuts, herbs, a kind of umami weight that makes you want food nearby. Think roasted poultry, aged Alpine cheese, mushrooms, dishes that like wines with presence. Ciallabianco won’t be mistaken for a modern crowd-pleaser, and that’s the point. It’s Friuli in a bottle, stubborn, distinctive, and worth sitting with.
