Natural or Not? What “Traditional” Means in Georgian Cellars
Walk into a Georgian marani and the word traditional pops up fast. Some people hear it and think “no additives, no tech.” Others picture clay vessels, long macerations, and big feasts. Both pictures capture parts of the story, not the whole thing. Georgia holds thousands of years of wine culture. Practices shift by region, family, and goal. If you shop for organic wines online, you will see “traditional” on labels and product pages. Let’s unpack what that can mean inside a cellar.
What a marani looks like
A marani is a working space, not a museum. Families build them next to the home or on a farm plot. The room stays cool. Clay qvevri sit in the ground. Generations pass down know-how. One producer destems, another leaves some stems. One winemaker presses early, another leaves skins in contact for months. None of this fixes a single definition. It sketches a range of choices that arise from place, grape, and taste.
The role of qvevri
Clay matters here. Artisans shape large vessels from local clay. Winemakers coat the inside with beeswax. Then they bury the jars to the shoulder. Earth gives cool, steady temperature. The shape sets a gentle swirl as carbon dioxide rises. Solids gather in the belly of the jar and wine clarifies over time. People often link qvevri with amber wine, yet many producers craft fresh whites and vibrant reds in clay as well. Oak barrels, stainless steel, and concrete also show up in Georgia. Tradition is a toolbox, not a cage.
Sulphur, clarity, and stability
Now to the word natural. Some drinkers demand zero sulphur at every stage. Others accept a small dose at bottling to protect aroma and freshness. Many Georgian cellars take a pragmatic path. Clean fruit, clean vessels, and steady temperatures sit at the centre. Some wines skip filtration. Some pass through a coarse cloth. A few lines in the sand stay common.
Sugar additions do not belong here. Water additions do not belong here. Flavouring agents do not belong here. You might spot a bottle that promises wine no preservatives added. That phrase speaks to a strict style. It does not cover every wine that locals call traditional.
Skin contact and its many faces
Amber wine from Georgia carries texture and gentle grip. Winemakers ferment white grapes with skins and sometimes with stems. One cellar keeps the cap submerged every day. Another cellar seals the jar and waits. Time on skins can last one week or six months. Shorter time gives lift and orchard fruit. Long time draws tea notes, walnut tones, and firm tannin. None of these choices alone creates or denies tradition. They sit inside it.
Certification, labels, and language
Natural wine lacks a single global standard. Georgia has organic and biodynamic farms, but not every farm seeks a logo. Many small producers work to low-input principles and skip certification costs. Labels may highlight the grape, the village, and the vessel. Some mention “qvevri wine.” Some mention “amber.” A few add lab data such as total sulphur. The landscape needs context and trustworthy merchants. If you need bottles at home and a quick route to them, look for organic wine delivery from a specialist with a clear buying policy and transparent producer notes.
Taste expectations: from clay to glass
Traditional Georgian styles give a wide range. Kakheti often brings bolder structure, stone fruit, and firm tannin in amber wines. Imereti leans toward lighter extraction and brighter acidity. Kartli sits closer to classic European profiles. Saperavi, a teinturier grape, delivers deep colour and black fruit. Rkatsiteli often brings citrus, quince, and herbs. Qvevri does not equal funk by default. Clean clay, healthy fruit, and careful rackings yield pure aromas. Faults such as mousy notes or nail polish do not sit inside the Georgian idea of good wine, traditional or not.
Tradition meets the modern market
Export growth pulled new energy into the scene. Some wineries chase bright, stainless-steel freshness for by-the-glass service. Some keep an all-clay lineup for a niche audience. Many straddle the line. They make one classic qvevri amber and one crisp white with no skin contact. The goal stays the same: honest flavour from local grapes that match the table. That table often features herbs, walnuts, grilled meat, and cheese. Amber wine shines here because tannin and texture match those foods.
Buying smart, drinking smart
You do not need a lab to shop well. Read the producer’s notes. Ask how long the wine sat on skins. Ask about clay versus oak or steel. Ask about sulphur at bottling. If you want stricter bottles, search for organic preservative free wine from merchants who know the growers. Fans of zero-additive styles can thrive here. Fans of clean, classic lines can thrive here too. Georgia can serve both without losing its roots.
So, natural or traditional?
In Georgia, the two ideas overlap, but they do not always match. Tradition points to clay, to family marani culture, to native grapes, and to choices that grew from place and climate. Natural points to minimal inputs and hands-off intent. A wine can live in both camps or in one. Your palate will tell you what you enjoy. If you want an easy starting point, begin with a well-made amber from Kakheti and a fresh white from Imereti. Then branch into mountain reds and sparkling experiments. If you prefer to shop by ingredient stance, explore organic wines online, add one bottle that promises preservative free wine, and compare styles over a simple dinner.
Bottom line: Georgia’s cellar traditions give you clay, patience, and native grapes. Natural practice gives you restraint in the cellar. Together they create a spectrum, not a rulebook. Taste across that spectrum and you will find styles for every season and every table.