When people imagine wine fairs in Europe, they often think of Bordeaux’s grand exhibitions or Verona’s Vinitaly. These events, colossal in scale, attract global media and buyers. Yet beyond the famous regions, smaller wine fairs are shaping the future of viticulture by showcasing lesser-known grapes, local producers, and experimental styles. Attending such fairs is like stepping into the heart of the “Other Grapes” philosophy: discovery, authenticity, and diversity.
Consider the Salon des Vins de Loire in Angers. This fair has become a hub for small producers who champion local varieties like Pineau d’Aunis, Chenin Blanc, or Grolleau. The atmosphere contrasts sharply with the polished spectacle of Bordeaux: here, conversations are intimate, tastings are personal, and the emphasis is on connection rather than scale. Buyers seeking originality find treasures that rarely make it to supermarket shelves.
In Spain, the Fenavin fair in Ciudad Real focuses on Spanish wine in its entirety, but it has carved out space for indigenous varieties often overlooked by international markets. Grapes like Bobal, Mencía, or Treixadura find an audience here, supported by passionate producers who see themselves as custodians of cultural heritage. For regions like Castilla-La Mancha, where bulk wine once dominated, these fairs are a chance to rewrite narratives and present a new identity to the world.
Germany offers smaller yet dynamic fairs, such as those in Mainz or Würzburg, where Silvaner, Elbling, and Lemberger share the stage with Riesling. These gatherings highlight not just individual grapes but the cultural pride attached to them. Attendees often include local chefs, artisans, and cultural organizations, making the fairs holistic celebrations of regional identity.
Even in the United States, regional fairs and festivals have become crucial platforms for less-known grapes. Oregon’s Pinot Noir Celebration garners attention, but smaller events dedicated to hybrids, experimental plantings, or “natural” winemaking are multiplying. These fairs often mix education with entertainment: seminars on climate resilience, tastings of forgotten varieties, concerts, and food pairings. They foster communities as much as markets.
What unites these fairs is their focus on the human scale. Rather than overwhelming visitors with thousands of stands, they invite deeper engagement with each producer. Visitors leave not only with bottles but with stories: of vineyards restored, of families preserving traditions, of experiments that may or may not succeed. This intimacy creates loyalty, as consumers remember not just the taste of a wine but the person who poured it.
The role of such fairs in the broader wine world is growing. As global consumers seek authenticity, the fairs become gateways to discovery. Importers and sommeliers attend not only to buy, but to curate unique selections that distinguish them from competitors. For producers, the fairs are lifelines: without massive marketing budgets, they rely on word of mouth and personal connection.
Ultimately, these fairs remind us that wine is not just about prestige regions or famous labels. It is about communities, landscapes, and traditions that thrive outside the spotlight. By exploring them, we expand our understanding of what wine can be: diverse, surprising, and endlessly human.
