Isobel Salamon on Qvevri Wines from Georgia
06 July 2026
Qvevri, amber wine and other clay-fermented wines are no longer niche topics reserved for wine geeks but a part of a global conversation. One of the people bringing clay wines on a bigger stage is Isobel Salamon, an international judge, consultant, and clay-fermented wine expert who is a passionate advocate of Georgian wine, too.
She founded Clay Wine Fair, an international event dedicated entirely to wines made in clay vessels, bringing together producers working with qvevri, amphora, tinaja, talha and other traditional clay vessels from across the globe.
We talked to her about qvevri and qvevri wine in this global context, as well as about orange and amber wine category, existing clichés and bottles to start with. Enjoy!
Q : You’ve spent years talking about clay-fermented wines from all over the world. What was your very first encounter with Georgian wine, and did it change the way you thought about “orange wine”?
A friend introduced me to my first Georgian wine in a small wine bar back in Australia. At the time, we didn't see many Georgian wines on wine lists, so it immediately felt like a discovery. The bottle was Pheasant's Tears, and it completely blew me away.
I was struck by the texture, the savoury character and the sheer depth of flavour. The colour was beautiful, of course, but it was the wine's complexity that really captivated me. I was already an avid lover of orange wines, particularly from Italy and Australia, so I was delighted to discover what felt like the cultural and historical origin point for so much of what fascinated me about the category.
That bottle sparked a genuine thirst to learn more. I devoured books about Georgia, its wine culture and the role of qvevri in shaping these wines. The more I learned, the more I realised that Georgian wine wasn't simply another expression of orange wine—it was something much deeper. It offered a connection to history, place and tradition that fundamentally changed the way I thought about skin-contact wines.
Q: A lot of people still see Georgian wine as something niche or intimidating. Do you think Georgian wine could feel more relevant to a wider audience in the UK right now?
Georgian wine has definitely reached a buzz point in the UK, particularly in London. I've been delighted to see more Georgian wines appearing on restaurant lists, alongside dedicated Georgian venues such as DakaDaka, Kinkally and Kartuli. What I enjoy most is seeing the conversation move beyond a handful of familiar grapes and styles, with producers and importers introducing wines that many UK consumers have never encountered before.
The next challenge is making sure that momentum continues beyond London. That's where people like me come in. We need greater representation on wine lists and retail shelves across the UK. The good news is that British drinkers are becoming increasingly adventurous, and many of the flavours and textures that once felt unfamiliar are now finding a receptive audience.
Q : You founded the Clay Wine Fair at a moment when clay-fermented wines were still very much on the fringes. Did Georgian wines help shape the identity of the fair from the beginning? How is the fair growing and developing?
Georgian wine was fundamental to the identity of CLAY from the very beginning. At the first fair, we hosted a dedicated masterclass exploring the role of qvevri in Georgian wine culture. The following year, we welcomed Mateja Gravner, whose family's work was influenced by Josko Gravner's famous journey to Georgia and his adoption of qvevri-inspired winemaking techniques.
The fair is now entering its next phase of growth. Along with expanding internationally, I'm building an educational framework that includes an Amphora Wine Specialist qualification and a more advanced Amphora Wine Expert level. In 2027, we will also launch a trade-focused edition of the fair, creating opportunities for importers, sommeliers and producers to connect directly.
What excites me most is the possibility of building a truly international amphora community, a place where producers can exchange knowledge, share techniques and collectively champion these ancient practices in a modern context.
Q : Georgian producers often say that qvevri is not a trend here, it’s simply the way of doing things. Do you think people in the UK understand that difference between tradition and fashion?
Increasingly, yes. British consumers tend to have a deep appreciation for history and tradition, but understanding qvevri wine requires moving beyond the broader orange wine category.
Orange wine may be enjoying a moment of popularity, but qvevri winemaking is not a trend in Georgia, it's a living tradition that has shaped the country's culture for millennia. The challenge is communicating that distinction.
Importers have an important role to play, but producers also benefit from spending time in the UK and sharing these stories firsthand. Through CLAY, I've seen how quickly perceptions change once people understand the cultural significance behind the wines. They stop viewing them as a curiosity and begin seeing them as part of one of the world's great wine traditions.
It's also important to remember that qvevri isn't only about amber wines. Georgia has a remarkable history of qvevri-aged red wines as well, and telling that broader story helps people appreciate the depth of the tradition.
Q : You taste wines from amphora, tinaja, talha, qvevri and many other vessels. What makes Georgian qvevri wines stand apart stylistically or emotionally?
I'm glad you've used the word "emotionally", because that's genuinely what I notice when tasting Georgian qvevri wines blind. They often possess an unmistakable warmth and depth that can be difficult to explain analytically.
You taste the grape in a remarkably pure form. The wine feels stripped back to its essentials, allowing variety, place and tradition to speak clearly.
Potters often say that clay carries memory, and I've always loved that idea. These vessels are used year after year, harvest after harvest, holding the stories of previous vintages. Perhaps that's why, whenever I taste Georgian qvevri wines, I find myself returning to the same conclusion: they possess a soulfulness that is difficult to explain, but impossible to ignore.
Stylistically, Georgian qvevri wines also possess distinctive savoury characteristics that I find difficult to replicate elsewhere. That's partly the vessel, but also the way it is used and the indigenous varieties it evolved. Much like Champagne, Port or Sherry, the technique and the place are inseparable.
There is a reason this tradition has endured for thousands of years, and I believe you can taste that continuity in the glass.
Q : There’s been a huge rise in UK interest around amber and orange wines recently, especially among younger drinkers and sommeliers. Why do you think skin-contact wines resonate so strongly today?
Firstly, they're delicious. The colours are striking, the textures are engaging, and the flavour profiles often offer something different from what people expect of conventional white wine.
More importantly, skin-contact wines occupy a fascinating middle ground. They can appeal to white wine drinkers looking for more texture and complexity, while also satisfying red wine drinkers who enjoy structure and savoury character.
They're also incredibly versatile at the table, which is why sommeliers have embraced them so enthusiastically. For younger drinkers in particular, they offer both a sense of discovery and a style that fits naturally with modern food culture.
Q : Georgian wine can sometimes be presented through clichés like “8,000 years”, “birthplace of wine”, and so on. Which stories or conversations around Georgia do you personally find more interesting or meaningful?
While I probably reference "8,000 years of winemaking" more often than I should, I find Georgia's contemporary story equally compelling.
What fascinated me during my visit was seeing how distinct the country's regions feel. Travelling between Racha and Kakheti, for example, you begin to appreciate how geography, cuisine and local culture subtly shift while still remaining unmistakably Georgian.
I'd also love to see more discussion of modern Georgia. The country has an exciting food scene, a thriving fashion culture, incredible wellness traditions and a dynamic cocktail community. Yet these aspects rarely feature in international conversations.
Georgia is often presented through the lens of its past, but its present is every bit as interesting.
Q : Many sommeliers describe Georgian wine as extremely food-friendly. In your experience, where do Georgian wines work especially well on the table outside Georgian cuisine?
Georgian wines are among the most versatile food wines I encounter.
In the UK, they work beautifully with our roast culture. Amber qvevri wines can comfortably accompany everything from roast chicken to vegetable-based Sunday lunches, while structured qvevri reds work wonderfully with pork and richer meat dishes. They're fantastic with British cheeses, but equally deserve a place with seasonal plates. Few things make me happier than a qvevri Kisi with asparagus.
What I find particularly exciting, though, is how well Georgian wines perform alongside cuisines that can be difficult to pair. Many amber wines have enough texture, savoury complexity and intensity of flavour to stand up to spice, making them fantastic partners for curries and a wide range of Asian dishes.
They also shine with Mediterranean cuisine. The herbal and savoury elements found in many Georgian wines work beautifully with Greek food, grilled vegetables, olive oil, fresh cheeses and charred meats.
Georgia also produces some wonderful off-dry wines, what many people still refer to as "semi-sweet". I think these styles deserve far more attention, particularly when paired with poultry dishes, fruit-based desserts and even ice cream. They can create some unexpectedly joyful pairings.
Q : If someone in Britain has never tried Georgian wine before, what bottle or style would you pour them first and why?
Without hesitation, I'd pour a qvevri wine.
At the moment, I'm having a bit of a love affair with Mtsvane. It's a beautiful grape that balances texture and aromatic fruit with a dry, refreshing palate. Giuaani makes a particularly lovely expression, with notes of peach, quince, roasted nuts, gentle spice and a fresh herbal finish.
Kisi is another wonderful introduction to Georgian amber wine. It's often incredibly inviting and expressive, while Rkatsiteli can offer a little more structure and generous stone-fruit character.
Ultimately, though, the beauty of Georgian wine isn't finding the "right" grape. It's exploring the extraordinary diversity that exists within the country's winemaking culture. Every variety seems to tell a slightly different story about Georgia, its landscapes and its traditions.
If I had one piece of advice, it would be not to stop at a single bottle. Try a few different grapes side by side and see how dramatically they can differ.
That said, if you'd like to follow the same path I did, start with a bottle of Pheasant's Tears. It was my first encounter with Georgian wine, and it sparked a fascination that has never really left me.
