February 6, 2025

Wine is old. You know this. But did you know it’s this old? Like, older-than-the-concept-of-money old. Older-than-the-written-word old. In Georgia (the country, not the place where Waffle House reigns supreme), people have been making wine in giant buried clay pots called kvevri for about 8,000 years. That means winemaking predates the invention of the wheel. Yes, humans figured out fermentation before they figured out transportation. Priorities.

This brings us to Pheasant’s Tears, a winery that treats modern winemaking techniques the way a toddler treats green vegetables—by refusing to acknowledge their existence. Founded by American artist John Wurdeman and Georgian winemaker Gela Patalishvili, Pheasant’s Tears makes wine like it’s still the Bronze Age: no steel tanks, no filtration, no lab-grown yeasts--just grapes, kvevri, and an unwavering belief that the old ways are the best ways.

And somehow, against all odds (or maybe because of them), the wine is fantastic. Deeply complex, textural, and capable of making you rethink everything you thought you knew about what wine is supposed to taste like. We’re featuring three bottles that will mess with your head in the best possible way:

Pheasant's Tears Rkatsiteli

The gateway drug of Georgian whites. Crisp, mineral-driven, with just enough grip to make you think, “Oh, so this is what wine used to taste like.”

Pheasant's Tears Kisi

A skin-contact white (or orange wine, if you want to sound cool) that’s floral, spicy, and slightly philosophical. It tastes like the color amber and probably has opinions about literature.

Pheasant's Tears Saperavi

A dark, brooding red with the depth of a Dostoevsky novel but significantly less existential despair. Pairs well with roasted meats or long stares into the void.