16 Dec Vinomio: Where I Always Come Back in Vercelli, Italy

Vercelli is not a city people dream about when they dream about Italy. It doesn’t sit on the coast. It isn’t draped across postcard hills. With a population of approximately 46,000, it is a city in Piemonte, situated equidistant between Milan and Turin, and surrounded by the Mare A Quadretti (Sea of Squares), where rice is cultivated. It is a working city, quiet, practical, and often overlooked. I know this well, because I have been defending Vercelli for more than three decades.

Thirty-one years ago, fresh out of college, I moved there to work as an au pair. I had never been to Italy before, let alone a small city in Piemonte that most Italians themselves rarely visit, and I did not speak Italian. And yet, Vercelli quickly became home. I learned how to live there, not as a visitor, but as someone folding herself into daily rhythms. I made friends I still have today. I learned the language by living it. I learned that belonging does not require spectacle.

Over the years, whenever I told people I had lived in Italy, the next question was always the same: “Where?” When I answered “Vercelli,” the reaction was predictable. A puzzled look. A pause. Sometimes even a blunt “Perché?” or worse, “Che schifo.” – “Why Vercelli? Why there? That sucks.”

But I never agreed. Because what others saw as boring or forgettable, I thought of as home. And each time I return, I see that the city has been quietly changing, coming alive and modernizing in its own understated way. There are new restaurants and new wine bars with youthful energy. Vercelli has grown and evolved instead of staying complacent and tired. And one of the new places that has stood out to me is Vinomio.

Vinomio

Vinomio opened three summers ago, in 2023, and it instantly became my favorite place to go. Whenever I am in Vercelli, I make my way there, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone, but almost every day of my visit. Aperitivo turns into a glass, which turns into another story, another discovery. For the few days each year that I’m back, I’m a regular.

The space itself is small and intimate: three tables downstairs, a handful more upstairs. Bottles are everywhere with wine lining the walls, but never feeling cluttered. There are also spirits and a few carefully chosen gourmet items, but wine is the soul of the place.

The selection is thoughtful and wide-ranging, covering all of Italy first and foremost, but also France, Spain, and Germany. Small producers, mostly minimal intervention, and interesting grapes, these are wines with personality and place, chosen for how they drink, not just how they’re made. Every time I sit down, I discover something new.

Marco and Erika, The Heart Behind the Bottles

Vinomio belongs to Marco Vercellino and Erika Gaudio. And, like the wines they love, their story is grounded, unexpected, and deeply personal. They were both trained as dental hygienists. Marco is from Vercelli and spent time working in Alba, where he was slowly, and irreversibly, bitten by the wine bug. Day after day, as he cleaned teeth, he talked with growers and producers. Wine became more than curiosity; it became his passion.

Erika is from near Turin and worked between Turin and Vercelli. The two met in 2019 at a professional dental course. Afterward, Marco invited her and a small group to visit a cellar. He told her, almost shyly, that if she ever needed help with wine, she should call him. And, she did. They began dating at the end of 2019. Then 2020 arrived.

When lockdown hit, Erika was visiting Marco for the weekend. If she went home, she would not be able to return. So she stayed in Vercelli. Together, they weathered that strange, suspended time. They drank lots of wine and began dreaming and rethinking what they wanted. At first, they imagined opening a home restaurant, where they would invite people into their home for dinner. But a friend, noticing how Marco spoke about wine, told him he should open a wine place and Vinomio was born.

Marco is the storyteller. He can take a bottle and unfold it into a place, a person, a moment. Erika is equally knowledgeable, quietly confident, attentive, and present. Together, they have created something that feels less like a bar and more like being welcomed into someone’s living room.

Why I Always Come Back

What I love most about Vinomio is how it mirrors Vercelli itself. It does not shout or try to impress. It invites you to slow down, to listen, to taste with curiosity rather than expectation.

This trip, I tasted grapes I had never heard of before, alongside producers working with varieties I already love. Each glass came with context, not pretension. Each visit felt familiar, even when the wines were new.

Familiar varieties included a lovely 2023 Langhe Nebbiolo from Sottimano.

And I picked up a fresh, easy-drinking 2023 Dolcetto d’Alba from Azienda Agricola Cascina Fontana di Fontana Mario in Monforte d’Alba for dinner one night.

And I picked up a delicious Grignolino (one of my favorite varieties) from a small biodynamic producer in Monferrato called Cascina Val Liberata. The 2022 Anarkoide was fermented naturally and was paired with home cooked meal of pasta Amatriciana.

For new varieties, I enjoyed a quaffable Lacrima di Morro d’Alba from the Marche region called Cry Baby from Tenuta San Marcello.

And from Cascina Val Liberata, I also tried two new indigenous grape varieties that they produce – Baratuciàt (a white grape) and Slarina (a red grape). The name Baratuciàt is derived from the Piedmontese dialect expression “berla ‘d ciàt,” which means “cat poop,” a term referring to the elongated shape of its berries. Originally from the Cenischia and Susa Valleys, near Torino, Baratuciàt has high acidity and aromas of green apple and pineapple with hints of hay and eucalyptus. The Cascina Val Liberata Baratuciàt spends three days on the skins and offered peach and apple skin aromas.

The Slarina grape comes from the plains between Alessandria, Novi Ligure, and Tortona in Piemonte. Almost extinct, it began to resurface and was added to Italy’s National Register in 2007. Slarina produces a vibrantly red-fruited wine with an herbaceous tint.

I meet friends there. I sit alone there. I watch locals drift in and out. And every time, I feel at welcome and at home.

For a few days each year, I return to the city that shaped me. And at Vinomio, with a glass in hand, it feels like nothing has changed, and everything has.

I already cannot wait to go back.