“A gulp of mystery”. In the south of Italy, there is a endless, sweet and bitter, dry and fragrant wine: contradictory as a passion. They called it Primitivo, but it is refined as a gentleman of others times. It makes love, and who tastes it he doesn’t leave it anymore. It has a velvet substance, fragrant of cherry, of liquorice, of many fruits used to pug, as the popular song says, the beautiful fleshes of our women. It’s so dense to leave a red track on the rim of the glass, as it was a mark of a kiss.
