António Maçanita, winemaker at Fitapreta Vinhos in Lisbon, crafts Alentejo varieties there today from a restored medieval estate.
Recovering old varieties is the gesture António Maçanita returns to: saying no to the impossible. As winemaker at Fitapreta Vinhos in Lisbon, he works from an Alentejo estate whose identity begins with recovery rather than display. The project was founded in 2004 by Maçanita and viticulturist David Booth, and its home is the Paço do Morgado de Oliveira, a medieval palace founded in 1306 in Alto Alentejo, about 10 km from Évora. That setting gives the work a particular pressure. History is not an ornament around the cellar; it is part of the brief.
António Maçanita has built his wider practice around place as something active, a material to be tested through grape, site, and local memory. At Fitapreta, that means holding ancestry and experiment in the same hand. The estate has been rehabilitated under archaeological monitoring, and its modern identity is tied to a documented wine culture older than the contemporary winery itself. The house links the site to what is believed to be the oldest wine cellar in Évora, and to a historical document written by Martinho de Oliveira, then Morgado of the Paço, setting rules for vineyard and wine trade. Maçanita’s role here sits inside that lineage: winemaking as restoration, correction, and use.
The cellar at Fitapreta does not announce itself as a machine. Added in 2017, the contemporary winery building stays low in the landscape and takes its cues from the palace’s proportions, windows, stonework, and rooflines. Cork covers the exterior, a practical Alentejo material and a direct sign of the region’s agriculture. It is also a wine material, close to the bottle and to the tree, and the choice keeps the architecture within the same discipline as the vineyard.
The estate works within the Alentejo appellation and cultivates local vocabulary: Arinto, Antão Vaz, Touriga Nacional, Alicante Bouschet, Trincadeira, Castelão, and other varieties in the winery’s portfolio. The wines span still red, still white, rosé, sparkling, orange, and skin-contact styles, in a region often reduced to weight and warmth. The vineyard account is shale, minerals, sustainability, minimal spraying, and careful pest and disease management. Some vines grow on the estate; other parcels broaden expression. The house publishes no cellar detail for each fermentation vessel or barrel decision, so craft is clearest in the program’s shape: old varieties, regional breadth, and a modern cellar beneath the older silhouette.
The room carries the contrast without forcing it. Stone, cork, vineyard rows, olive trees, and the quiet line of the modern building set the pace before a glass is poured. Visitors move through a property that reads in layers: medieval walls, archaeological care, contemporary cellar, Alentejo light. The atmosphere is relaxed and cosmopolitan, but the room is not loose. It has the stillness of a working estate, where hospitality sits beside production rather than replacing it.
Fitapreta’s tastings are built around guided interpretation, with flights that name the questions the winery wants to ask: terroir, vineyard age, old and new vines, and the more technical curiosity of a guest who wants to stay close to the method. Food pairings appear as part of that hospitality, often with the simple precision of cheese and nuts beside the wines. The important movement is from site to glass and back again. A visitor can look at cork on the cellar wall, then meet it at the bottle.
Maçanita’s own language gives the estate its quiet forward pull: “I am recovering historic grape varieties, saying no to the impossible.” At Fitapreta, that sentence is not a wall text. It is a cellar instruction. The next glass to follow here is any one that makes Alentejo less general, and more specific to Arinto, Antão Vaz, Castelão, Touriga Nacional, Alicante Bouschet, and Trincadeira.
Lisboa, Portugal
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