My father Ferdinando's passion for wine came unexpectedly, almost fortunately. After completing his studies as an accountant, he could in fact still be defined as a teetotaler because he did not like the wine produced and served by his grandfather Adolfo in his tavern in the lower province of Treviso. He served at tables, helped behind the counter and from time to time went to the fields for the harvest, but the acrid taste, typical of the wines of the area, had never allowed him to fall in love with that fragrant liquid. If he hadn't decided to give up his life as an innkeeper, partly because of financial constraints and partly because of the provincial dimension that was holding him back, accepting a job opportunity in West Africa in the service of a French transport company, this story of I Clivi would probably never have been written. In the following years he began to travel a lot, often passing through the city of Paris where he had the opportunity to discover that in addition to the wine of the tavern in Treviso there are on the market bottles of great value easily available in the French capital. Against all expectations, the passion for wine was born, not only for its hedonistic value but above all for its cultural and historical value.
Burgundy, Bordeaux, Champagne, but also many Friulian wines from historic producers such as Schiopetto, Gravner, Jermann, Abbazia di Rosazzo, Ronchi di Cialla, the Barolo di Giacosa and Mascarello, the Tuscany of Montevertine among many, accompany my father's dinners and evenings at the turn of the 60s and late 80s. A great work of research and in-depth study in which he often takes me with him in a period when there is no mediatic bass drum about wine, nor about oenologists and labels intended as a brand. It is an era free from preconceptions, with prices that can be faced and in which the substance, therefore the content, is worth much more than the label and the container.
In the following years, in Africa, my father began to think about buying an estate in Friuli, succeeding in the mid-1990s to crown this desire by moving permanently to Italy, in Brazzano di Cormons, my mother's native land.
It is just a small vineyard of two hectares with old vines on the southern slope of Monte Quarin.