You will never know if it was the climate, if it was the land. If it was the talent of the people who came here and their passionate stories and personalities. Or if it was simply luck. That same luck that made all of this meet, in the same place, at the right time, as a blessing of aligned planets, of sun and rain and of the curiosity of men. One thing is certain. Silent and imposing, the old mountain has seen from above the birth of great wines in this piece of land of the Dão that has at its feet.
And if for it a century and a half is almost nothing, in men’s time much has happened since the first vineyard was planted and the first stone of the House was laid, somewhere in the last decades of the 19th century. 150 years that were anything but monotonous. Crossed by times of war and peace, abundance and poverty, departures and arrivals, splendour and oblivion, the Passarella lands saw history being written – by many talented authors but always with their blood, the wine. Perhaps the legends do not exist and are after all true. Perhaps history, in fact, repeats itself. Or, purely and simply, perhaps luck is still on our side. Either way, with the land as a blank page, we will continue to write our lines, harvest after harvest.
Just as the Dão is legendary, both for its memories and for its apparent naturalness to produce nectars that men do not forget, Casa da Passarella puts its name back in the mouths of the world – which, in our humble opinion, is precisely where great wines should be.