Santorini, one of 18 islands in the Cyclades, lies some 70 miles north of Crete, and consists of the remnants of a massive volcanic eruption which, in around 1600 BCE, destroyed the Minoan civilisation on Crete. The centre of the former island collapsed into the volcanic caldera, forming a central ‘lagoon’ which is up to 400m deep (pictured). Older names for Santorini (‘Saint Irene’) include Kalliste (‘the Most Beautiful One’), Strongyle (‘the Circular One’), and Thera—which is still, in fact, its official name.

To cope with the heat, drought, strong winds, and infertile soils, the vines are widely spaced and trained into an idiosyncratic basket shape [kouloura]. To make the basket, shoots are woven around the canes of previous years in such a way that the buds are on the inside of the basket; after about twenty years, the basket is cut off and another is started from the same plant and root system. The basket traps humidity and protects flowers and fruit from the sun, wind, and sandblasts. The baskets can sit on the ground because the young volcanic soils (consisting principally of black basalt, red basalt, and moisture-retaining tufa) are inhospitable to weeds and insects. There are other training systems on the island, such as Klada, with canes woven into small vertical bracelets. The nearby, and similarly windy, island of Paros has evolved a comparable training system called aplotaries, with the canes left to crawl on the ground. As the soils on Santorini do not contain any clay, they are immune to phylloxera: vines are propagated by layering and root systems can be centuries old. When I asked him the age of a vineyard, Paris Sigalas replied, ‘The vines here have no age, it is impossible to say.’

The vines here have no age, it is impossible to say. —Paris Sigalas

However, yields are diminutive, and all vineyard work must be carried out on hands and knees, making this a very expensive and potentially unsustainable form of viticulture—particularly with land prices under pressure from tourism.

When I visited Santorini in April 2025, the vines were severely stressed by two consecutive years of heat, drought, and even hail, which, until then, had been unknown on the island. Old vines were dying, and could not be replaced because canes were not long enough for layering.

The Greek government urgently needs to intervene to protect, delimit, and classify the vineyards of Santorini, which are a cultural heritage and economic asset on a par with anything in the National Archaeological Museum.

Wine styles

Santorini is renowned for its crisp, dry, and mineral Assyrtiko blends made from Assyrtiko (minimum 75%) completed by Athiri and Aidani. These age-worthy wines, with their notes of citrus and stone fruits, are high in acidity and extract with substantial alcohol and a long, salty finish. Finer examples peak at 5-7 years.

A richer, more exotic style called Nykteri is made from riper grapes, with some skin contact and barrel ageing—although I often prefer the purity of the more standard wines. Each producer on Santorini (and there are only about 20 commercial ones) has their own take on Nykteri.

Most famous, at least historically, is the sweet Vinsanto (‘wine from Santorini’, not to be confused with the Italian Vin Santo) made from Assyrtiko (minimum 50%) completed by Athiri and Aidani. Vinsanto must be aged for at least 24 months in oak. It can be made as a vin doux naturel, from later harvested grapes sun-dried for 12-14 days and fermented to a minimum of 9% alcohol, or as a vin doux (vin de liqueur) to a minimum of 15% alcohol. It is amber in colour with notes of dried citrus peel, apricots, raisins, figs, and sweet spice, together with high acidity and considerable minerality. A recent tasting note on a Santorini vinsanto reads: ‘A wine of contradictions that defies standard terminology… like an old sweet sherry on an acid trip.’

Some red wines are also made on Santorini, from Mandilaria and Mavrotragano—but, as on Lanzarote (that other very volcanic island), they struggle to match the world-class whites. Similarly, Athiri and Aidani can rarely, on their own, stand up to an Assyrtiko, which they serve to round and tame.

Assyrtiko is one of my favourite white grapes, right up there with Riesling. According to Leto Paraskevopoulou, the winemaker at Gaia, their Santorini Assyrtiko is around seven times saltier than their Nemea Assyrtiko. There is debate as to whether this saltiness is better accounted for by the volcanic soils or by the famous Santorini sea mists, which, according to some, owe to underwater volcanic activity. There is also debate about whether and to what extent these sea mists irrigate the vines, although no one doubts that they temper the harsh climate.

Producers and vintages

In 2020, Paris Sigalas, ‘the magician of Assytriko’, sold Sigalas and founded Oeno P, which focuses on amphora micro-cuvées. Other leading producers include Argyros (notable, among others, for their library of vinsantos), Gaia (famous for ageing Assyrtiko reductively under seawater), Hatzidakis (their Aidani and Mavrotragano are the best I tasted on the island), Karamolegos (try their four single vineyard cuvées from the prime growing areas of Pyrgos, Fira, Megalochori, and Akrotiri), Tselepos (their Laoudia is extraordinary), Vassaltis, and the high-tech co-op Santo Wines. Many producers say that Assyrtiko needs to be tamed with, for example, lees and barrel ageing.

Mikra Thira is the only winery on Thirasia, the largest island in the Santorini caldera, although Santo Wines also makes an excellent Thirasia cuvée called Thira Kori. The terroir on Thirasia is similar to that of the main island, with even greater exposure to the wind and sea.

Strongest recent vintages on Santorini are: 2022, 19, 18, and 14.

If you are ever on Santorini, make sure to visit Ancient Akrothiri, a Minoan-influenced Cycladic settlement preserved in volcanic ash in around 1600 BCE—reminiscent of Pompeii, but much older.

Neel Burton is author of the Concise Guide to Wine and Blind Tasting, which you can purchase on this website.