A Venetian Winter, with Cuttlefish and Malvasia di Candia
On winter, wine, and the quiet beauty of simple things.
January in Venice feels suspended in time.
The cold slowly settles into the body, humidity wraps around everything, and the light — sharp and clear — traces precise outlines across stone, water, and silence. The city empties, footsteps echo more distinctly, breath becomes visible. It is the season of true winter, one that invites stillness, listening, and the table as a place of quiet gathering.
This is where this story begins.
In a Venice that is cold and luminous, and in a Malvasia that comes from afar, yet has always shared a dialogue with this city.
I chose two expressions of Malvasia di Candia, produced in the hills of the Marche, between Offida and the Conero, lands that embrace the city of Ancona. An ancient port, like Venice, shaped by centuries of commercial and cultural exchange — also through wine. Along these maritime routes, Malvasia travelled, carrying aromas, gestures, and shared histories. It is within this quiet dialogue between the two shores of the Adriatic that this story finds its meaning.
Among the nineteen Italian Malvasia varieties, Malvasia di Candia is the most widespread in central Italy.
A white grape, non-aromatic by nature, capable of producing wines that are fresh and savoury, with a measured, luminous structure — never excessive. Vinified on its own or blended, it crosses different regions while maintaining a recognisable identity. It can be found in Lazio, Abruzzo, Marche, Umbria and Emilia-Romagna, tracing a discreet geography of central Italy.
Its restrained character, never loud or imposing, makes it deeply aligned with the Venetian winter: a presence that accompanies rather than intrudes, that stays rather than astonishes.
Cuttlefish are among the most profound symbols of Venetian cuisine. Humble and precious at once, they tell the story of the lagoon better than many words. From the deep black of their ink to the delicacy of fried baby cuttlefish, each preparation speaks of seasons, waiting, and hands that know the sea.
In January, fishing becomes more difficult.
The cold slows movement, the cuttlefish retreat to deeper waters. They do not disappear, but they ask for patience, knowledge, and respect for natural rhythms. When they finally reach the table, they carry a special value — they speak of winter, restraint, and essentiality.
For this reason, I chose a simple and delicate pairing, lagoon cuttlefish with cuttlefish-ink crisps and a black cabbage, accompanied by a Malvasia di Candia from Conero – Emera, by Moroder Vinery.
A wine born on the hills overlooking the Adriatic, in a land that has long been in dialogue with Venice. In the glass, delicate notes of white peach and sage emerge, with a subtle freshness and natural salinity that gently support the softness of the cuttlefish.
It is an encounter based on balance, not contrast.
A dish that speaks of winter, of stillness, of calm waters.
And of a cuisine that does not seek to impress, but simply to be true.
Sometimes, there is no need to change the wine in order to change the story.
One only needs to listen as it transforms through the dialogue with food.
To close this winter narrative, I chose a Malvasia di Candia in its sweet sparkling expression.
A wine that avoids shortcuts, that never flatters, yet captivates with restraint. Its sweetness is gentle, supported by a lively freshness that surprises sip after sip.
In the glass emerge notes of ripe fruit, hints of Mediterranean herbs, and a velvety texture that envelops without tiring. It is a Malvasia that speaks softly and elegantly, finding its natural balance on the hills of Offida, in the Marche, where rural tradition still follows the slow rhythm of the land. This expression, crafted by Ciù Ciù Tenimenti Vinery, is elegant and measured.
I paired it with a simple, seasonal dessert, a persimmon cream, enriched with whipped cream, salted caramel, and toasted hazelnuts. A soft, enveloping combination, where the delicate fruit’s sweetness meets the wine’s freshness, creating a harmony that invites slowness.
The persimmon is a precious winter fruit — generous and radiant — also grown on the islands of the Venetian lagoon, in Sant’Erasmo and Le Vignole. It carries with it an agricultural memory shaped by patience and respect for the seasons. Like this wine, it speaks of a sweetness that is never loud, but deeply rooted.
To accompany this moment, I chose a Murano glass by Venini. A simple gesture, rich in meaning — an encounter between material, light, and Venetian tradition.
The glass captures and reflects the light of the Venetian lagoon, transforming it into a quiet presence. The champagne coupe becomes a prestigious vessel, where elegance, craftsmanship, and beauty converge. Venice style.
In conclusion, for this cold January, I chose to tell the story of Malvasia di Candia through two expressions, paired with two dishes that reflect its character and its season.
A quiet journey, shaped by winter and by the rhythm of the table.
Laura Riolfatto
Wine storyteller & sommelier
🔗 laurariolfatto.com
🍷 Malvasia Pop Up
📍 Venice / Innichen
If you’d like to receive my letters and updates from Malvasia Pop Up, you can subscribe to the newsletter here:
👉 https://www.laurariolfatto.com/newsletter