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Wine from amphora, qvevri and concrete eggs - back to the roots

Wine spends its whole life in some vessel - it ferments and matures in steel, oak, clay or concrete. And this is not neutral, because the vessel shapes the flavour no less than the grape or the region. Steel keeps the fruit clean and cool, oak adds vanilla and oxygen, but there is a third way, ever louder: clay and concrete. The amphora, the Georgian qvevri, the concrete egg - vessels that give the wine a slow breath of oxygen, but without the taste of wood. It is a return to a technology older than the barrel, today deliberately revived by winemakers seeking purity of fruit. Here is a guide to vessels: what the material does, how porous clay differs from sealed steel and why the concrete egg became a symbol of a new wave of winemaking.

A vessel is not just a container

It is easy to think a vessel only stores wine, but it actively shapes it. It decides three things: how much oxygen reaches the wine, whether the material adds its own flavour and how stable the temperature is inside. These three factors together decide the texture, freshness and character of the fruit in the glass. This is why the same must, divided and put into steel, oak and clay, will give three different wines. The winemaker chooses the vessel as deliberately as the grape or the moment of harvest - it is one of the key decisions in the cellar. Understanding that the vessel actively works, rather than just holding the liquid, is the starting point for all the rest. We cover the making of wine more in how wine is made.

Steel and oak - two poles

At the two poles stand stainless steel and oak. Steel is completely sealed and neutral: it lets in no oxygen and adds no flavour, so it protects the clean, fresh fruit and the sharp acidity. This is why crisp white wines, like many sauvignon blancs, are made in steel. Oak is its opposite: the porous wood lets in a slow stream of oxygen, and on top of that gives off its own compounds - vanilla, toast, spice. This softens the wine and adds layers of flavour, but it can also cover the fruit. Between these poles is a whole space, filled by clay and concrete: they give oxygen like oak, but are neutral like steel. We cover the flavour of the barrel more in oak in wine.

The third way: clay, concrete, the egg

The third way is vessels that combine the virtues of both poles: porosity without the taste of wood. To it belong clay amphorae (in Georgia called qvevri, in Spain tinajas), known for thousands of years, and the more modern concrete - in the form of tanks or fashionable eggs. The common denominator is that the material breathes, that is lets through a little oxygen through its pores, but has no strong flavour of its own like oak. Thanks to this the wine matures, softens and gains texture, while keeping the clean character of the fruit. It is precisely this combination - the breath of oxygen plus neutrality - that makes winemakers return to clay and reach for concrete. It is not a whim but a precise tool for a particular effect.

Porosity and micro-oxygenation

At the heart of how clay and concrete work is porosity. Microscopic pores in the wall of the vessel let through tiny amounts of oxygen, which slowly reaches the wine - this phenomenon is called micro-oxygenation. It works much like in a barrel: oxygen softens sharp tannins, stabilises the colour and adds smoothness to the texture. The difference is that clay and concrete do it without giving off any flavour of their own. Interestingly, modern amphorae allow the porosity to be steered: some makers quote values around 5 percent, close to an oak barrel, and the winemaker can order a vessel more or less permeable. This turns old intuition into a precise tool. Micro-oxygenation without oak is the main reason these vessels are making such a career today. We cover the phenomenon itself more in micro-oxygenation.

Neutral flavour - clean fruit

The second great virtue of clay and concrete is neutrality of flavour. Unlike oak, which adds vanilla, toast and spice, these materials give the wine almost nothing of their own. Thanks to this what stays in the glass is the clean voice of the fruit, the terroir and the grape, unmasked by notes of wood. For a winemaker who wants his riesling or nebbiolo to smell of themselves and not of the barrel, this is an enormous value. This is why clay and concrete vessels were embraced by natural and minimalist winemaking, which bets on the purity and truth of the fruit. The wine matures, gains texture and depth, but not the taste of wood. Neutrality is not a lack of character but a deliberate choice: giving the voice to the fruit itself rather than putting make-up of oak on it.

Stable temperature

The third virtue, especially of clay and thick concrete, is thermal inertia. The thick wall of the vessel acts as insulation, softening the swings of temperature in the cellar. This matters especially during fermentation, which itself generates heat - a stable temperature favours a slow, even course and cleaner aromas. The Georgians took this furthest, burying the qvevri in the ground up to the neck, because the earth keeps an almost constant temperature all year. Concrete in the form of a thick-walled egg or tank gives a similar effect without machine cooling. This natural thermal stability is an often underrated reason why old vessels worked so well. It is not just sentiment for tradition but a real physical advantage, which today winemakers deliberately exploit.

A table: four vessels

Let us gather the four main vessels in one place:

The table shows why clay and concrete hold a special place: they give oxygen like oak, but neutrality like steel, and on top of that thermal stability. It is a compromise combining the virtues of both poles.

The concrete egg and its currents

The concrete egg is a curiosity that turned out to be more than a fashion. Its oval shape has a physical justification: the lack of corners means that inside it form gentle, natural convection currents. The wine itself circulates softly, keeping the yeast lees in suspension, with no need for manual stirring (battonage). The constant contact with the lees builds texture and creaminess, and it happens, as it were, by itself. To this add a light micro-oxygenation through the concrete and a neutral flavour. Sceptics call the egg a fashionable gadget, but many serious winemakers use it deliberately precisely for this texture and purity. It is a good example of how the shape of a vessel, not only the material, can affect the wine.

Qvevri - an amphora buried in the ground

The oldest version of this idea is the Georgian qvevri - a great clay jar buried in the ground, used for eight thousand years and inscribed on the UNESCO list. It is in it that the famous orange wines are made, fermented together with the skins and often the pips. The qvevri combines all the virtues of clay: porosity giving breath, neutral flavour and exceptional temperature stability thanks to the surrounding earth. It is living proof that this technology works, because it has survived millennia. The modern revival of the amphora is largely a return to this Georgian model, today adapted across the world, from Italy to California. We cover this tradition more in Georgian wine and qvevri.

A fashion or a return to the roots?

Is it a passing fashion or a lasting turn? A bit of both. Concrete eggs became fashionable and not every use is justified - sometimes it is marketing. But the idea itself is as old as wine and based on real physics: porosity, neutrality, stability. Winemakers do not return to clay out of sentiment but because it gives a concrete effect that steel and oak do not give at the same time. It is rather a widening of the toolkit than a revolution - alongside steel and oak the winemaker today has a third way. The best amphora or concrete wines are not a curiosity but a deliberate choice for purity of fruit. The fashion will pass, but the tool will stay, because it simply works.

How to sense it in the glass

Wine from clay or concrete is often easy to recognise by its profile. It lacks the notes of oak - vanilla, toast, coconut - while the fruit is exceptionally clean and direct, and the texture soft, but without the sweetish frame of the barrel. White amphora wine is often orange and tannic from contact with the skins, with a note of nut and dried herbs. Wine from a concrete egg often has a creamy, silky texture while keeping its freshness. If you sense deep, fleshy fruit and smoothness without the taste of wood, that is a good clue that clay or concrete stands behind the wine. It is worth comparing side by side the same wine from steel, oak and clay, to feel the difference of the vessel. Over time you will start to sense the material by the very character of the wine.

The essentials in brief

Let us gather it up. The vessel shapes wine through three things: access to oxygen, its own flavour and stability of temperature. Steel is neutral and sealed, oak adds oxygen and flavour, and clay and concrete give a third way - micro-oxygenation without the taste of wood. Porosity lets the wine breathe, neutrality keeps the clean fruit, and the thick wall stabilises the temperature. The concrete egg additionally creates currents keeping the lees in suspension, and the Georgian qvevri buried in the ground is the eight-thousand-year prototype of the whole idea. It is not only a fashion but a return to a technology based on real physics and a widening of the winemaker’s toolkit. Now you know why wines from amphora, qvevri and concrete taste so clean and how they differ from those from oak.

Note every wine in GustoNote - including the vessel it was made in. Over time you will start to recognise the clean fruit of clay and concrete, and understand more deeply how the material shapes flavour.