I am called Theodoros, and I was born 52 years ago here on Chios, the fifth-largest Greek island in a large sea.
Chios has been home to illustrious people such as the poet Homer,
and the island is the only place on earth that grows mastic trees, which produce gum.
But perhaps the island's greatest achievement is that it is the home of Greece's finest red wine.
I am a winemaker, as my grandfather and father were before me.
For over one hundred years, my family has taken care of this vineyard, and we have produced our own wine.
But this year, 355 BC, I am ready to pass on the family legacy to my son Theodorakis, so he can carry on our winemaking tradition.
Legend says that, long ago, the grandson of King Minos of Crete came to Chios and taught the people how to make wine.
I do not know if that is true, but wine has been an integral part of Greek culture for hundreds of years.
This wonderful drink is associated with Dionysus, the god of wine, who inspires artists, philosophers, and ordinary people like me.
We hold many celebrations in his honor, and naturally wine is a major part of the festivities.
Wine grapes love to grow in Chios, because of the weather and the island's many rolling hills.
We plant the vines in the valleys, where they receive ample sunlight and good natural irrigation when it rains.
Our island has warm days and cool nights, perfect weather for ripening grapes,
and my ancestors developed a growing system long ago that takes advantage of this climate.
Since I was very young, I have always carefully monitored my family's vineyard.
Grapevines have several important parts, and I must pay close attention to each part for a successful crop.
The trunk serves the same purpose as the trunk of a tree, providing firm support for the plant.
In Chios we keep the trunk very short, about 55 centimeters high, because the earth provides warmth for the vine during the cool nights.
The head is the main branch of the grapevine at the top of the trunk, where three or four canes grow each year.
The delicious grapes grow on these canes, which I prune at the end of the growing season.
The spurs are other thinner branches that develop at the top of the trunk, and I prune these back to short stubs at the end of the season too.
Making wine is a long and tedious process, and a winemaker must be patient, hardworking, and diligent.
Before harvesting the grapes, we have to clean large wooden vats with boiled seawater,
as it is important that the grapes are stored in the cleanest containers possible.
It takes many days to clean the vats, and then they must be completely dry before we put the grapes in them.
In my vineyard each cluster of grapes is picked by hand, gathered in big baskets, and then thrown into a large vat.
I have more than twenty workers who harvest the grapes.
When the grapes have been harvested, children arrive and climb into the large vats of grapes.
The fun begins when they start stomping on the grapes with their bare feet.
Of course I remind them to wash their little feet before they jump into the vats!
Many of them play games or sing as they crush the grapes into juice and pulp, a mixture called must.
We put the must into clay jars, where it ferments for a long time.
During fermentation the must foams up as the sugar in the grapes gradually turns to alcohol.
But exposure to the air can make the must turn acidic, so I add honey and salt to keep the taste sweet and full of flavor.
These ingredients make it easier to adjust the taste of the wine as it ferments, a process that takes about six months.
When the wine is ready, I get the containers for the wine, called amphorae, delivered to my vineyard.
An amphora is a tall ceramic vase with a handle on each side that makes it easy to carry.
Amphorae provide excellent storage for the wine, and our amphorae are made in the village by Petros, a good friend.
On one handle of each amphora is our special stamp, which shows the origin of the wine and the winemaker's name.
So whoever drinks the wine will know where it came from and who made it.
Ah! Here is Petros, just in time with the amphorae! But wait a moment.
Before I pour the wine into the vases, I must make sure it is ready.
I scoop some wine into a silver cup, dilute it with seawater, and swirl it around.
Here in Chios wine tastes best when diluted, and the sea provides us with exactly what we need to make the wine even more delicious.
Some barbarians drink the wine straight from the amphora, but this practice is frowned upon by polite society.
Drinking pure wine marks one as an uncultured brute.
But let us not dwell on anything unpleasant!
This is my favorite part of making wine—tasting it.
The aroma is already enticing. Ah, the first sip. Yes, it is perfect.
I give permission, and my workers now pour the fermented wine through a cloth into the amphorae,
and the cloth strains any pulp left over from the must.
Theodoros' wine is now ready to be exported.
However, the wine must be drunk within four years.
If not, it will turn into vinegar, which no living creature can stand to swallow.
After the amphorae are filled with wine, they are loaded onto ships and delivered to cities all around the interior sea.
The finest red wines of Chios are truly appreciated by the nobility and elite of Greece, as well as those of Persia and Egypt.
However, as Greek wine is gaining popularity every year, we hope to expand our shipping to lands even farther away.
It is true that many people from other parts of the world are now cultivating their own grapes to make wine.
But no other country will be able to grow grapes that surpass those from the vineyards of Chios!