The Caparsa estate sits quietly in the hills above Radda in Chianti, where the forest still outweighs the vine. At around 450 meters elevation, the vineyards are carved into slopes of galestro and alberese, the flaky schist and dense limestone that define much of Chianti Classico’s higher ground. The air is cooler here, the light sharper. The land is not manicured; it is lived-in. The vines are bordered by woods, and the woods are not ornamental.
Paolo Cianferoni took over Caparsa in 1982, inheriting the land from his father, Reginaldo, who had purchased it in 1965. By 1999, Paolo had begun replanting the vineyards and rethinking how the estate should be farmed. He didn’t order vines from a nursery catalog. Instead, he walked the rows and marked the plants that had consistently produced the healthiest fruit. From those vines, he took cuttings and used them to plant anew. This is called massal selection, a traditional method of vineyard renewal that preserves genetic diversity. Rather than replicating a single vine’s traits across the entire vineyard, it allows a field of well-performing but genetically varied vines to carry forward. It takes more time and attention, but it yields complexity and resilience.
The winery is a family operation in the fullest sense. Caparsa is not a brand handed down through inheritance or absorbed by outside investment. It is run by the people who live on the land. Paolo’s partner, Gianna, works alongside him. Their son Federico manages communication and outreach. Filippo, after studying oenology, now works in both vineyard and cellar. Their daughter Fiamma is studying agriculture with the intention of joining the estate as well. Every part of the winery’s daily life—farming, winemaking, sales, and continuity—is shaped by the people who share the same table.
Organic farming became formalized at Caparsa in 2005, but the shift began well before that. For Paolo, organics are not about branding or ideology. The vineyards sit on steep, erosion-prone soils bordered by forest, and synthetic treatments would disrupt that balance. He believes that chemically treated vines produce simpler, less expressive fruit. Over time, he saw that working without herbicides and pesticides led to healthier soils and more precise wines. The work in the vineyard is manual, seasonal, and guided by observation. Pruning decisions, canopy management, and harvest timing are all made based on close observation of the vines and the conditions of each plot, not according to a fixed schedule.
The estate has about 12 hectares under vine, with soils that combine alberese, galestro, clay, and sand. These give the wines structure and lift. The surrounding 45 hectares of forest help maintain a cooler microclimate, slowing ripening and preserving acidity. Harvesting is done by hand, and fermentation takes place with native yeasts in lined cement vats. There is no artificial temperature control during fermentation. The tanks themselves, set into the hillside, moderate temperature naturally. Caparsa’s elevation and forest surroundings keep cellar temperatures cool, and Paolo believes the pace of fermentation should be shaped by the season, not managed by machines. This approach favors texture and transparency over polish.
The cellar itself predates the house. A 17th-century vaulted chamber, it was originally built for wine storage, not show. It’s still in use today for tastings and aging—a reminder that wine was once considered essential nourishment, not a luxury.
In the cellar, large oak casks dominate. There are no small barriques, no toasted wood signatures. Paolo favors Slavonian oak, though there is also some use of American, Hungarian, and French oak, chosen more for neutrality than for flavor. The wines rest for as long as they need, typically around 15 months for the reds, though that can vary by wine and year.
Caparsa’s portfolio reflects both Radda’s restraint and Paolo’s precision. The Caparsino Chianti Classico Riserva is made from 100 percent Sangiovese and aged in large neutral oak casks, which preserve the wine’s acidity and structure without adding overt oak flavor. It shows firm tannins and high-toned acidity, with flavors that lean toward red cherry, dried herbs, and crushed stone. The wine is lean but persistent, shaped more by structure than fruit weight. The Doccio a Matteo Riserva includes 5 percent Colorino and Ancelotta, fermented and aged in slightly smaller oak barrels. It has more flesh and ripeness but remains firmly structured. The vineyard sits just a few hundred meters above the cellar and consistently produces Paolo’s most complete Sangiovese.
The Chianti Classico Caparsa, introduced in 2016, is a younger, fresher expression of Sangiovese, aged mostly in cement. Mimma IGT, first made in 2018, is a denser, more concentrated Sangiovese that Paolo calls his “Super Selezione.” Rosso di Caparsa IGT, the base wine, is sometimes blended across vintages to maintain balance. Rosato di Caparsa IGT is produced in small quantities from Sangiovese, and Anfora di Caparsa IGT is a white wine macerated in amphorae—an experiment in texture and tannin, not just trend.
Caparsa also produces a traditional Vin Santo del Chianti Classico, made from dried Trebbiano, Malvasia, and Canaiolo grapes, aged in small caratelli for at least a decade. The Bianco di Caparsino, made from Trebbiano and Malvasia, is lean and savory.
Label illustrations come from a book written by Reginaldo Cianferoni, Paolo’s father. It tells the stories of everyday life in Chianti, narrated through the conversations of locals gathered in a simple trattoria. The drawings were lifted directly from the text, a way of rooting the bottles in lived experience.
Production is modest. A good year yields about 20,000 bottles. The wines are not widely distributed and not made for rapid consumption. They appeal to those who understand the slope and soil of Radda, who seek clarity over weight, and structure over charm. Paolo Cianferoni is now regarded by some as one of the leading figures in Chianti Classico, with only a few estates operating in the same orbit. He’s not chasing recognition. He’s working the land. The estate doesn’t present itself as a revival or a throwback. It simply never left.