Three generations of the Stratis family farm one hillside inland from the beaches of Andros, and every vine on it stands on its own roots. The planting runs to 17 stremmata within a 40-stremma estate, and all of it sits at 500 to 530 metres on Mount Gerakona. Across the whole vineyard the vines are ungrafted and pre-phylloxera, some past 150 years, rooted in dry limestone-schist. The ground has a name of its own: Katavolos, Mesa Vouni, Andros.
Phylloxera never reached the most remote Greek regions, which is why own-rooted old vines have survived in a few of them. Greek wine law allows the term old vines on bottles carrying a protected designation of origin or a protected geographical indication, PDO and PGI, only for ungrafted vines of at least 40 years. Here the plants run from roughly 35 to 70 years, with the oldest past a century and a half. The family dates the first plantings to 1851.
The ground
The vines grow without supports, bush-trained and low, on slopes and terraces set in east-west rows so that each plant faces south. Winter brings snow and strong north winds. Summer brings Cycladic aridity, heat and the meltemi, and the wind is an ally: it airs the rows and keeps them dry, so grapes hanging almost at ground level stay clean. Shaded by their own leaves, they ripen slowly, and the vineyard gives 300 to 400 kg per stremma in a year. Dionysus was the guardian deity of Andros, and the island held a temple to him in antiquity.
The varieties
Among the whites are begleria, athiri, skathari, potamisi, platana, tsaousia and asprokoumara. Among the reds and rosés are koumaria, mavraki, mavrostyfa, mavro aidani, mavropotamisa, koundoura, rikara, fokiano and roditis. All of them are indigenous to Andros and fully acclimatised to the ground they stand in. Potamisi fills a bottle of its own here. Aspro Potamisi, a white found on Cycladic islands such as Tinos and Mykonos, is still vinified in very limited quantity.
Three generations
In the 1950s the grandfather, Antonis, reshaped much of the estate and the stone farm buildings on it, and planted koumaria, mavrakia, mavrostyfa, nychato, kountoura, athiri, asyrtiko, begleri and potamisia. He also dug a large well and sank a borehole, which gave ample water of good quality.
His son Vasilis took the land on and settled permanently on Andros with his family in 1984. He worked as an engineer and farmed alongside it, modernising the electrical and hydraulic installations, renovating the buildings, and making new plantings from the island’s own varieties already in the vineyard. The paperwork since is short: organic cultivation certified 2018; winery approved 2012. The house names Vassilis Stratis and Antonis Stratis as its winemakers, and the newer generation now contributes to every critical phase of the work.
In the cellar
The winery stands inside the vineyard, in those renovated stone structures, and the house says its methods leave no environmental footprint. Picking is by hand, mid-September. The must comes off under low pressure and moves to the fermentation tanks by gravity, using the drop between levels of the building. Fermentation starts spontaneously on native yeasts. Water from the estate’s well, kept frozen, controls the temperature. Sulphites are minimal and every wine goes into bottle unfiltered.
Petrenia was the first wine the family bottled, named after the medicinal spring of their village, and it blends 35 per cent Aidani, 35 per cent Athiri, 20 per cent Potamisi and 10 per cent other varieties. The Potamisi white is the single variety alone, from deep-rooted pre-phylloxera vines between 500 and 530 metres. Katavolos, the red that carries the vineyard’s name, is 40 per cent Mavraki, 35 per cent Mavrostifo and 25 per cent Mavro Aidani, grown at 530 metres, fermented at a controlled 23C and bottled at 14 degrees of alcohol. A semi-sweet Koumari comes from overripe grapes of that indigenous variety, at the same height.
The island’s register of local producers lists the vineyard for group visits and sale at the point of production.
Who is this for
Andros rewards a visitor who turns inland from the beaches, and this hillside suits a reader who likes to see where a wine is actually grown. Come for old roots, the island’s own varieties, and a morning spent 500 metres up among terraces and worked stone. The mood is agricultural and quiet, high above the village, and the family is close at hand. Nothing in the cellar comes from another grower’s fruit.
