There are days you never forget. Not because of what happens, but because of how you feel while it does.

Saturday, May 24th was one of those days: a moment dedicated to those who chose not to be mere spectators, but a living part of our story. We welcomed you, our Adopters, for an experience that was, above all, an act of attention: to the land, to beauty, to the slow rhythm of real things.

Everything began with a hike through the Langhe that was different from all the others, off the beaten path, in a place that holds deep meaning for us.

The morning was clear, the air fresh from recent rain. The first to arrive at the winery walked in with a relaxed pace, like stepping into a place already known.

“Such peace… you can only hear the wind and the buzzing of busy bees.”

After a short welcome, we set off. Destination: the Bossolasco Nature Observatory, a hidden corner among the hills where biodiversity isn’t just visible—it’s alive and pulsing. Here, among wild orchids, medicinal herbs, wild bees, and woodland mushrooms, balance is quietly built through invisible connections and natural alliances that can thrive only where human intervention knows how to take a step back.

The Observatory is a concrete example of how a landscape can become both a refuge and a stage for biodiversity—even in cultivated areas. The wild orchids—like Ophrys fuciflora or Anacamptis morio—are only the most visible part of a complex balance where pollinating insects, fungi, and native plant species coexist and support each other.

As we walked along grassy paths, our voices naturally softened. Nature asks for it: a gentler tone, a more attentive gaze.

Next to the Observatory stretches a panoramic road that follows the ridge of the hill. The view extends all the way to the Ligurian border, and between one curve and the next, rows of vines, hazelnut groves, and silences unfold.

“It looks like a drawing by someone who loves order—but not too much. This is the Langa you don’t see from the car.”

It’s true: on foot, everything changes pace. Details emerge, stories tie into what you see, what you touch. It’s the landscape that speaks—if you let it.

The Observatory is now part of who we are. Since Edoardo Monticelli—agronomist, guardian, and friend—entrusted us with the care of this extraordinary place, we’ve considered it a second home. A place that reflects our vision: that of a living, shared landscape, to be protected as much as cultivated.

Working with—and not against—biodiversity means accepting slower rhythms, noticing invisible details, and letting go of the idea that nature must “perform” to be valuable. This approach is at the heart of our wines and our way of cultivating. We believe in farming that listens to the ecosystem, respects its timing, and supports its balance rather than forcing it.

It’s no coincidence that many of our labels are born right here. Our wines—from Barbera d’Alba Superiore to Langhe Nebbiolo—carry the identity of these hills. The orchids featured on the bottles are a tribute to nature and an extension of our philosophy. They remind us that beauty takes time, silence, patience. That what is rare must be nurtured, not rushed. And that you can cultivate an aesthetic identity without ever detaching from the soil.

This is the heart of Josetta Saffirio: a wine that doesn’t just want to be tasted, but recognized, remembered, and retold. And the Observatory becomes an integral part of this story.

After the walk, we returned to the winery—but it wasn’t the same as always. Welcoming us was the new tasting room, finally open. A space we imagined and built with care.

Lunch was a relaxed and convivial moment, with seasonal dishes, light conversations, and tastings of our wines. From guinea fowl salad with confit onions to white bunet with hazelnuts and salted caramel, every plate told a story of the Langhe—with balance and character.

“Here, you eat like you walk between the rows of vines: without hurry, and at the right pace.”

That’s exactly what the tasting room is designed for: to help you slow down, notice the details, and savor what’s often overlooked.

It’s not easy to explain what it really means to adopt a row of vines.
It’s not just a symbolic act, and it’s not an investment either.

It’s a declaration of care.

Of wanting to be part of something genuine, of recognizing the land as something that concerns us all.
During the day, more than one person asked, “Can I see my row before I go?”

And each time, something special happened. A private moment, silent, almost ritualistic.
A hand brushing a leaf, a photo taken—as if to say: I came, I saw you, I’ll return.

Being an Adopter means this: having a place to come back to. One that changes with the seasons, but remains faithful in its meaning. A place where every visit is a return, and every bottle also tells a part of your story.

This day was only the beginning.

The tasting room is open, the Observatory is alive, and the rows—like always—are waiting for you.
Come back whenever you like.
The hike isn’t just a way to see a different landscape, but to understand what makes it come alive. And sometimes, the most precious part is exactly what you don’t see.

[Esplora le nostre esperienze]