Franco D’Eusanio, grower, winemaker, polymath, Abruzzo pioneer.

Few in the U.S. know Abruzzo grower and winemaker Franco D’Eusanio (above) and his wines (Chiusa Grande). But in his native Abruzzo, his life and work are the stuff of legend.

He comes from a family of viticultural pioneers in Abruzzo. His father ran one of Italy’s most important wine grape nurseries and singlehanded helped the region to modernize its training methods.

Franco’s own work consulting with Abruzzo wineries has also reshaped grape growing practices in the region. But it is arguably his steadfast belief in organic viticulture and his vision for Abruzzo growers that will define his legacy as one of the region’s all-time greats.

I had tasted some of Franco’s wines over the summer during a dinner and tasting at the winery. But I had yet to spend time with him walking his vineyards and talking about viticulture.

He surprised me (and frankly blew my mind) when he started talking about unusual training methods he’s experimented in his quest to lower — yes, lower — acidity in the must. Tilling methods of his clay- and marl-rich soils is another key element, he explained, in his mission to create balance in his wines.

During my previous visit, I swooned over his stone-fermented Trebbiano “In petra” (vinified using a stone palmento, to borrow the Sicilian term). On this occasion, he poured me a macerated Trebbiano that I also loved and a grape I had never tasted: Maiolica, a rediscovered local variety, which delivered a light-colored but gently tannic and delicious red. It’s just another example of how he’s pushing the limits of Abruzzo viticulture.

After our tasting, I asked Franco what he studied at university. He started out with pure physics (!!!) but easily drifted toward agronomy and the family business.

I loved how an overarching vision forms his approach to growing and vinification. Producing wines with a perfect balance of acidity and phenolics is what guides him in every decision he makes.

I also loved his Abruzzo sheepdogs. Those are wounds from wolf bites on his head (below)! What a brave and loving dog. I didn’t think he was going to let me leave the property! He wanted to shepherd me!

The wines have some availability in the U.S. I highly recommend them.

Best Moscato d’Asti? Find it at Elio Perrone. (Or “Why wine blogging for no apparent reason gives me joy.”)

Something extraordinary happened on my recent trip to Italy: I found myself immensely enjoying the act of wine blogging for no apparent reason.

A few colleagues and I had a day off and so we spent it not focusing on work but just visiting wineries we love already or have yet to explore.

I tasted the wines of but had never physically visited with Stefano Perrone of Elio Perrone in the tiny village of Castiglione Tinella (“castle of the barrel” is a facile but apt translation) where a preponderance of limestone soils make it a top zone for Moscato d’Asti DOCG.

Stefano’s Moscato d’Asti is simply one of the best wines I’ve ever tasted from the DOCG. It had the signature freshness of a great Moscato d’Asti but it also had an electricity to its rich fruit, buoyed no doubt by the acidity that Castilgione Tinella’s famous subsoils express in the wines.

Moscato d’Asti is all about a balance between the intense sweetness of the natural (not refined!) sugar of the grape berry and its acidity.

There are some other great Moscato d’Asti wines out there but man, this one is unforgettable, the kind of wine you’d drink throughout a meal. Can you imagine this wine with Texas BBQ?

I also really loved Stefano’s blend of Chardonnay and Moscato (just about 10 percent), “Gi,” a wine that, again, was buoyed by the soils there.

And for the record, Stefano is also known locally for his Barbera, also excellent.

But the thing I loved the most about visiting Stefano was how his aesthetic, beyond the wines, permeated his entire “habitat.” From the works of art that adorned the walls and the labels to the pseudo-brutalist style of the cellar to his low-key style of working and living.

It was a reminder of why I — we! — started wine blogging in the first place: wines were a means to experience richly populated worlds otherwise impenetrable for mutton-headed city dwellers in search of a meaningful connection between land, mind, and soul.

Thank you, Stefano, for an unexpected and much enjoyed treat. Thank you.