Chianti vs Chianti Classico: two neighbouring wines that are not alike

It happens all the time in restaurants: someone orders “a Chianti” convinced they have asked for the simple version of a Chianti Classico, as though the gap between the two were the same as between an espresso and a long coffee. It is not. They are two different appellations, with different rules, different consortia and territories that touch without overlapping. Chianti Classico is not a better Chianti: it is another wine, which through a long series of historical accidents shares its name with its neighbour.

It all begins with a decree

On 24 September 1716, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo III de’ Medici, signed a bando, a proclamation, that fixed the boundaries of four wine areas: Chianti, Pomino, Carmignano and Valdarno di Sopra. It is often cited as one of the first documented examples of the legal delimitation of a wine territory, a century and a half ahead of the most famous French classifications. Cosimo III’s Chianti was a precise area between Florence and Siena, that of Greve, Castellina, Radda and Gaiole: roughly speaking, the heart of today’s Chianti Classico.

The problem came later. Between the nineteenth and twentieth centuries the name Chianti became a successful brand, and success attracts imitators. Wine made across half of Tuscany, on the hills of Arezzo, Pisa, Pistoia, Siena and Florence, began to be called Chianti. When a ministerial decree brought order in 1932, it did so by widening: official Chianti now included a vast territory, and the historic zone was left with the adjective “classico”, meaning the original one. A very Italian solution: instead of choosing, add a word.

Two DOCGs, an amicable divorce

For decades the two souls lived under the same roof. The DOC came in 1967, the DOCG in 1984, and Classico remained formally a subzone of Chianti. The divorce dates from 1996, when Chianti Classico obtained its own production rules and became a DOCG in its own right. Since then they have been two different wines in the eyes of the law too, not just for those who drink them.

The differences are concrete. Chianti Classico is produced in eight communes between Florence and Siena: Greve, Castellina, Radda and Gaiole entirely, San Casciano, Barberino Tavarnelle, Poggibonsi and Castelnuovo Berardenga only in part. It requires at least 80% Sangiovese, the rest may come only from red grapes, and white grapes are excluded. There is an ironic detail here: the “formula” attributed to Baron Bettino Ricasoli in the nineteenth century included a little Malvasia, and for much of the twentieth century white grapes in Chianti were the norm. Classico ended up stricter than its supposed inventor.

Chianti DOCG, by contrast, covers a far larger territory, spread across several Tuscan provinces, with looser rules. The historic minimum for Sangiovese was 70%, and the consortium has launched a reform bringing it down to 60%, with the introduction of a rosé category. Some sources report it as already in force, others as still awaiting formal approval: on this point it is wise to keep a margin of caution.

The rooster and the neck label

The quickest way to tell them apart is still to look at the bottle. Chianti Classico bears the Gallo Nero, the black rooster, a symbol that goes back to the Lega del Chianti, the medieval military alliance of the area’s castles. Vasari painted it in the Salone dei Cinquecento in Palazzo Vecchio, in his allegory of Chianti. When thirty-three producers founded the consortium in Radda in 1924 to defend the “true” Chianti, they chose that rooster as their emblem. Today it appears on every bottle of the appellation.

Chianti DOCG has no rooster, and often carries the name of a subzone on its label. There are eight: Colli Aretini, Colli Fiorentini, Colli Senesi, Colline Pisane, Montalbano, Montespertoli, Rufina and the most recent, Terre di Vinci, which brings together the communes of Vinci, Cerreto Guidi, Fucecchio and Capraia e Limite. They are no formality. Rufina, east of Florence, gives taut, fresher, often long-lived wines that need envy nothing of many a Classico. Colli Senesi, on the edges of Montalcino and Montepulciano, has a different density. Anyone who dismisses Chianti as the wine of the trattoria fiasco, the straw-covered flask, is judging a territory the size of a small region by its worst bottles.

Gran Selezione and UGAs: the pyramid grows taller

Over the last ten years Chianti Classico has been working on its summit. In 2013 the consortium approved the Gran Selezione, which reached the market the following year: a step above the Riserva, made exclusively from estate-owned grapes with at least thirty months of ageing. At first it was met with some scepticism, because the blending rules still allowed Merlot and Cabernet: a summit that in theory was meant to speak of territory and in practice could resemble a Supertuscan.

The correction came with the UGAs, the Unità Geografiche Aggiuntive or “additional geographical units”. In June 2021 the consortium’s assembly approved, by an overwhelming majority, the division of the zone into eleven areas: San Casciano, Greve, Montefioralle, Lamole, Panzano, Radda, Gaiole, Castelnuovo Berardenga, Vagliagli, Castellina and San Donato in Poggio. Final approval from the Ministry came in 2023. For now the name of the UGA may appear on the label only for Gran Selezione, and together with the UGAs came the most significant rule: at least 90% Sangiovese, with the remainder only from native varieties, no international grapes. On the exact date when this tightening becomes compulsory for all, it is best to remain cautious: some sources speak of the 2027 harvest, at the end of a transition period.

It is a step towards a model in which villages count, as in Burgundy or the Langhe. Those who know the area already knew that Lamole, high and sandy, does not give the wine of Castelnuovo Berardenga, warmer and further south. Now, at least at the top, the label says so too.

Why the confusion suits someone

One wonders why, in three centuries, no one has cleared up the misunderstanding by changing a name. The answer is that it does not really suit anyone. Chianti DOCG benefits from the prestige of the word it shares with its neighbour; Classico enjoys the role of the original, which is always a good commercial position. The confusion is awkward for those who drink, not for those who sell.

Our view is that with the UGAs Chianti Classico has done the right thing, if belatedly, and that the next step should be to extend them to the annata, the standard bottling, and to the Riserva: that is where the territory is really drunk, not just in collectors’ bottles. As for Chianti DOCG, its strength lies in its subzones, and its risk is the shortcut: lowering Sangiovese to 60% makes life easier in the cellar, but moves away from precisely the identity that Rufina and the Colli Senesi have been building for years. Two wines, two paths. It would be enough for those who order them to know which one they are choosing.

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