If mom-and-pop wineries such as Cjanova Kmetija represent the cottage end of the scale in Goriska Brda, Movia, in Ceglo village, is a manor house – literally. From the moment you pull up to the elegant, pink-washed facade, it’s obvious you’ve arrived at a capital-D Destination. Movia wines have been served to Josip Broz Tito, Bill Clinton and Pope John Paul II (probably not at the same state dinner), and stand at the highest level of Slovene viticulture.
Movia has been in continuous family operation since its founding in 1820 -- always independent, even during the Tito years -- and is one of Brda’s more full-service operations. Besides vineyards, it includes pressing, fermentation, storage and bottling equipment, a substantial cellar (with vintages dating to 1943, complete with cobwebs that Hollywood couldn’t improve upon), a tasting room, and a large, elegant dining room with a sweeping view onto the vineyards and surrounding rolling hills. Not the least of its assets is Ales Kristancic, who took over day-to-day operations from his father Mirko in 1985 after apprenticing in France. Unlike Princic, the business’s technical side doesn’t much interest the 30-ish winemaker, but his exercise-room workout garb and unshaven face fail utterly to mask his intense gaze and purposeful manner as we tour the premises. When asked to explain what sets apart a superior winery from the pack, he supplies a one-word answer: "Philosophy." Kristancic, who is building a reputation outside his country's borders as Slovenia's best and most imaginative winemaker, is a philosopher of the grape.
"It’s not so easy to find bad wine in Slovenia," he elaborates, switching between Slovene and English, as we survey the long rows of wooden barrels in the aging room. "But it’s difficult to find one with a story. For that, I think the story comes with the work of the winemaker. Ninety-nine percent of wines are easy, commercial, simple and popular. The wine is always OK. This is top quality wine, but there is nothing new! It is impossible to have a philosophy (for these)."
In the dining room, Kristancic (who also heads the Slovene chapter of the international Slow Food gourmet society) regularly brings together guests he invites from throughout Slovenia and abroad: prominent winemakers, writers, doctors, and politicians from across the ideological spectrum.
"These are people who ordinarily wouldn’t be together, but here they put their differences aside," he says. Upstairs are rooms to stay the night, but no one, explains Kristancic, ever pays for them. "People who are here are guests. We always want to do things differently here."
Movia bottles a line of younger, lighter wines under the Villa Maria label, but the winemaker’s heart lies in crafting the house’s signature offerings like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and the varietal blends Veliko Rdece and Veliko Belo (Big Red and Big White). Kristancic glories in mixing grape varieties as he does the personalities at his dinners, trying to create new and fascinating combinations. (In both pursuits, the readiness is all.) His wines are among Slovenia’s most expensive, but they’re worth it – and real bargains next to bottles of comparable quality from France and California.
Judging from the wall plaques certifying medals awarded at various wine fairs (not to mention the evidence in the glass), Movia’s and Kristancic’s artistry has won plenty of fans. (And despite the winemaker’s protest that "art and money are never together," Movia appears to be doing very well.
Movia maintains a website (thus far, in Slovene only) at link