Unearthing Stories in the Soil: How Archaeology Led Me to Wine

Unearthing Stories in the Soil: How Archaeology Led Me to Wine

Before Field Notes Wine existed, my life was spent in the dust and sunlight of archaeological sites across Italy and the Mediterranean. With a trowel in hand and fragments of the past beneath my fingertips, I studied the material traces of ancient civilizations — their homes, their art, their rituals, and yes… their wine.

It was impossible to work in these landscapes and not notice how deeply wine was woven into the fabric of life. Clay amphorae unearthed from Roman villas, mosaics depicting Dionysus’ revels, inscriptions recording vineyard ownership — the evidence was everywhere. Wine was more than a drink; it was a marker of identity, wealth, and community. It moved across trade networks, was poured at religious ceremonies, and anchored both feasts and negotiations.

The Connection of Wine, Place, and History

Archaeology teaches you to look closely — not just at objects, but at the connections they reveal. And wine, perhaps more than any other agricultural product, is inseparable from its place of origin. Ancient vintners knew it, even if they didn’t use the word terroir. The soil, the slope of the land, the winds from the sea, the traditions passed down through generations — all of it infused itself into the wine.

In the Mediterranean, those forces created wines so distinctive that they became cultural touchstones. Falernian from Campania, prized in Roman times, could command extraordinary prices. Greek islands like Chios and Lesbos built reputations on their vintages, their fame carried in amphorae across the ancient world.

From the Dig Site to the Wine Glass

After years of studying the ancient past, I began to see every glass of wine as part of a living continuum. The landscapes I once walked with a survey map in hand are still producing grapes. The same breezes that cooled ancient vines rustle leaves in today’s vineyards. The same soils that preserved an amphora shard now nurture modern rootstock.

When I pursued formal wine study through WSET, it wasn’t a departure from my academic life — it was an extension of it. Wine is history you can taste. Every bottle is an artifact of its place and time, shaped by human hands and natural forces.

Why Wine Still Matters

What makes wine so enduring, so central to cultures across millennia? I think it’s because it exists at the intersection of necessity and art. It began as sustenance, became a craft, and evolved into a symbol — of hospitality, of celebration, of identity. It connects us backward through history and outward to the people and places who make it today.

For me, wine is not just about flavor profiles or pairing notes (though I love those too). It’s about that deeper connection — to land, to history, and to the stories we share when the cork comes out.

Your Turn:
Have you ever had a wine that made you feel the place it came from? Share it in the comments or tag me on Instagram — I’d love to see the bottles that speak to you.