Count d’Attimis-Maniago: Time Passes, but the Land Remains
Written by Davide Gangi | Published in territory, wine
Arriving in Buttrio means entering a part of Friuli where wine is not simply an agricultural product, but a presence that shapes the landscape, the history of families, and the very way of life on the land. The hills of the Colli Orientali del Friuli have a distinct character, shaped by vineyards, slopes, woods, and ever-changing vistas, and during my visit to Conte d’Attimis-Maniago, I was once again reminded of just how important it is to know the places to truly understand what we find in our glass.
I had the pleasure of visiting this beautiful winery, and I have particularly vivid memories of it—not only because of the charm of the estate and its cellar, but also because of that sense of continuity you feel when a family has lived in the same area for generations and continues to regard winemaking as part of its identity.
In the case of the Counts of Attimis-Maniago, we have to go back a long way in time. It was February 15, 1585, when the Buttrio estate became part of the family through marriage, marking the beginning of a winemaking legacy that would span more than four centuries. Since then, the family’s connection to these lands has never been broken, even as agriculture, production techniques, markets, and the very way of understanding wine have changed around them.
A story this significant could easily become the main focus of the company’s presentation. Personally, however, I believe that the past takes on even greater meaning when it can be felt in the present, because it is not just the dates that give a winery its value, but what those dates have left behind in the culture of the people who continue to work there.
The 16th-century wine cellar, the family’s preserved artifacts, the vineyards, and the estate certainly tell the story of times past, but it is above all the people and the wines that give that history a contemporary voice.
Conte d’Attimis-Maniago has always been a part of the Vinoway Selection Guide’s journey, and over the years I’ve come to appreciate its professionalism and consistent production, reflected in wines with a distinctive character. It is one of those wineries with which a relationship develops naturally over time, and my visit to Buttrio allowed me to gain a deeper understanding—through getting to know the place and the people—of what I had come to appreciate through the glass.
And in this story, Buttrio is not simply a geographical location.
Here, the hills and the nature of the soil become an integral part of the wine. The soils of the Colli Orientali, characterized by marl and sandstone, together with the vineyard exposures and daily temperature fluctuations, create conditions that allow the grapes to ripen while retaining their tension, depth, and distinct character. Walking through these places, one gains a better understanding of why Friuli has been able to forge one of Italy’s most nuanced wine-growing identities and, above all, why it has continued to believe in grape varieties that elsewhere would likely have been abandoned as too challenging.
And it is precisely this difficulty that fascinates me.
Of all the wines from Conte d’Attimis-Maniago, I must admit that I have a particular fondness for the Tazzelenghe.
This grape variety does not seek easy approval and demands attention from both those who produce it and those who taste it. It possesses strength, freshness, a substantial tannic structure, and, above all, a character that cannot be overly tamed without risking the loss of its soul. However, when this energy is paired with sensitivity, Tazzelenghe transforms into a wine of great personality, capable of evolving and, above all, of leaving a lasting impression.
Conte d’Attimis-Maniago is one of the wineries whose wines I’ve come to appreciate the most over the years. In a glass, I never look for contrived perfection, but rather distinctiveness, character, and the ability to convey its origins. And that’s exactly what I find in their Tazzelenghe: a wine that doesn’t fully reveal itself on the first sip, that needs time, and that invites you to take another sip.
Alongside its strength, there is another facet of the winery that I greatly appreciate: the Istrian Malvasia, which takes us into a completely different realm. The aromas, the structure, and even the rhythm of the tasting change. Freshness, aromatic finesse, and that luminosity characteristic of the whites from these lands emerge, demonstrating just how a single landscape can reveal itself through profoundly different sensibilities.
And then there’s Pignolo, another grape variety that I find fascinating precisely because it doesn’t allow for shortcuts. It’s a demanding variety, with a robust tannic structure, that needs time to develop harmony and depth. Tazzelenghe and Pignolo, though profoundly different, convey—in my view—something essential about this land: they are wines that require patience, knowledge, and respect for the natural rhythm of time. And perhaps this is also why, when they’re well-crafted, they so powerfully reflect the place from which they come.
In this research, I also find Meticolos particularly interesting—a wine whose very name seems to suggest a winemaking approach characterized by attention to detail, precision, and patience—as well as Vignaricco, another wine I’m fond of, which helps complete a rich and deeply recognizable mosaic of wines.
Tazzelenghe, Malvasia, Pignolo, Meticolos, and Vignaricco are therefore, for me, not simply names within a product line. They are wines through which I have learned, over the years, to recognize the character of the winery—and which, after visiting the estate, have inevitably taken on an even more specific meaning.
But a history this long cannot live on solely in documents, within the walls of a cellar, or in the prestige of a family name. It needs people who are able to understand its value and, above all, to continue giving it meaning in the present.
Talking about Alberto also means entering a personal realm, because I’ve long been bound to him by a relationship of sincere friendship and deep respect—one that has developed over the years through wine but has gone far beyond wine. I’ve always appreciated his character, his good manners, the balance with which he approaches relationships, and that natural elegance that certainly doesn’t stem from a title, but from who he is as a person. Conversations with Alberto are always a pleasure, because behind his deep knowledge of his homeland and its history, I’ve found a man capable of listening, engaging in dialogue, and viewing the world of wine with balance and practicality.

And perhaps it is also because of this personal connection that visiting Conte d’Attimis-Maniago held special significance for me. Getting to know a winery through its wines is important, but getting to know the man who bears responsibility for it every day allows you to understand aspects that no technical sheet could ever convey.
Alberto has deep roots in Buttrio and this land. His journey within the company began when he was young, working alongside his uncle Gianfranco while studying agriculture at the University of Udine, gradually becoming familiar with the work in the vineyards and with the family legacy that he would later be tasked with carrying forward into the future.
And right here, alongside the man I know and the friend I respect, the producer emerges.
What I appreciate about Alberto’s vision is his ability to avoid turning such an important story into an excuse for standing still. His focus on grape varieties native to Friuli, his commitment to preserving their character, and at the same time his pursuit of greater expressive precision reflect an approach to wine that resonates with me. Defending Tazzelenghe or Pignolo today doesn’t simply mean preserving the past: it means believing that diversity still has value and that the future of Italian wine also depends on our ability to hold on to what makes us unique.
Alberto has guided the company through his own era without breaking the connection with what came before. It is this balance that I find interesting: the knowledge passed down from previous generations is not something to be mechanically replicated, but rather a foundation upon which to continue building.
I have never sensed in him a need to use the past as a means of creating distance or of showing off. On the contrary, I have always found him to be someone who is aware of the value of what he has received and of the responsibility to pass it on to future generations—still alive, recognizable, and capable of engaging with their own time.
The respect I have for him stems from the man himself, even more so than from the producer. Over the years, wine has given us many opportunities to meet, exchange ideas, and share moments, but it was the quality of our personal relationships that transformed a professional acquaintance into friendship. And this is something I feel is important to share, because behind some of the wineries I’m most closely connected to, there are not only wines that I appreciate—there are people whose worth I recognize.
And today, this story has another side to it: that of his son, Fabio d’Attimis-Maniago.

I had the pleasure of meeting Fabio during one of our Vinoway business trips to Almaty, Kazakhstan, and that encounter made me reflect on just how far a story that began in Buttrio can go. We were thousands of kilometers away from his family’s vineyards, in a completely different setting, and perhaps it was precisely that distance that allowed me to observe him outside the context of his daily work life.
What immediately struck me about him was his composure, his politeness, and above all, an intelligence that doesn’t feel the need to be flaunted. I appreciated the way he interacts with people, his ability to listen and observe before speaking up, demonstrating a sense of restraint that I consider an important quality, especially among the younger generation.
Having a last name with such an important history could easily become something to flaunt. In Fabio, I sensed exactly the opposite: a natural awareness of being part of that history without feeling the need to emphasize its importance.
And as I watched him in Almaty, I couldn’t help but think of Alberto.
In Fabio, I’ve rediscovered some of the qualities I’ve come to appreciate in his father over the years. Father and son inevitably belong to two different eras, but I like to think of them as part of the same journey: Alberto brings with him his experience and knowledge of the land; Fabio represents the perspective of a generation called upon to engage with new markets, new countries, and new ways of communicating about wine.
So I wouldn’t call it a simple generational transition. I prefer to speak of continuity, because in families with such a long history, it shouldn’t be a matter of one person simply taking another’s place. There is knowledge that is passed down, responsibilities that are gradually shared, and new perspectives that are added to the existing ones.
And it’s fascinating to think that a story that began in Buttrio in 1585 could, more than four centuries later, reach as far as Almaty.
The world of wine has changed profoundly. Today, we must travel, learn about distant markets, engage with different cultures, and be able to explain wines with strong regional identities to people who may never have heard words like “Tazzelenghe” or “Pignolo.” This is precisely the challenge facing the younger generations: to bring their region to the world without distorting its essence, and to find new ways of expressing themselves without losing their own voice.
Fabio struck me as having the curiosity and intelligence needed to take on this journey, along with that composure that is probably one of the family’s most admirable traits.
And so the image that remains with me is a simple one: Alberto in Buttrio, deeply connected to his homeland, and Fabio in Almaty, thousands of kilometers away, sharing that same story with new audiences.
Among them are different experiences and sensibilities. But above all, there are the vineyards.
My visit to Conte d’Attimis-Maniago, the winery’s inclusion in the Vinoway Selection Guide, my friendship with Alberto, and my meeting with Fabio in Kazakhstan all come together to form a single story. It is not merely the story of a historic Friuli winery, but that of a family that has stood the test of time while continuing to find its voice in wine.
And then there’s the glass.
What remains is that Tazzelenghe, which I personally continue to appreciate so much, precisely because of its character and its ability not to reveal itself immediately. What remain are the Malvasia, the Pignolo, the Meticolos, the Vignaricco, and those expressions that make this winery deeply connected to the diversity of its territory.
After so many years spent tasting wine, traveling, and meeting winemakers, I’ve learned that what we remember about wineries isn’t just what we’ve tasted. We remember a landscape, a conversation, a face, a gesture—a seemingly insignificant detail that suddenly comes back to mind when we open a bottle.
For me, Conte d’Attimis-Maniago is also this.
It’s Buttrio and its hills; it’s a winery that transcends time; it’s the friendship and respect that bind me to Alberto; it’s the composure and intelligence of Fabio, whom I met on the other side of the world; and it’s that Tazzelenghe that, every time it returns to my glass, somehow manages to transport me back to Friuli.
Because, in the end, time passes, but the land remains. It lives on in the people who have come to understand it, in the children who are learning to know it, in the vineyards that span generations, and in the wines that continue to tell its story.
And a story that began in 1585 deserves more than just to be remembered.
It needs people who, generation after generation, can give it a reason to carry on.



