Kamara Pure

Kamara Pure is the natural wine label of the Kioutsoukis family, based in the hills of Mygdonia in northern Greece, about 30 kilometres from Thessaloniki. The family story runs deep. They came from East Romylia on the Black Sea coast, a region famous for wine, and migrated to Greece in the early 1900s carrying their winemaking knowledge with them.

The dream of building their own winery had to wait a century. Dimitrios Kioutsoukis, the grandchild, finally made it happen in 2010. Dimitrios trained as a chemical engineer in Thessaloniki and worked for years in the medical field to save the money to plant vines. He studied oenology at UC Davis in California, then planted 11 hectares on slopes where vines had grown since ancient times but had been abandoned since phylloxera struck around 1900.

The site is special. Millions of years ago the region was an ocean floor, which is why the soils shift so dramatically across the estate, from clay and sand to lighter parcels of small stones and schist. That diversity feeds straight into the wines. The vineyards sit at around 140 metres on eastern facing slopes, and a fresh northern breeze blows through all year round, cooling the grapes and keeping the acidity high and bright.

They grow almost entirely native Greek grapes. Xinomavro, Assyrtiko and Malagousia lead the way, backed by Roditis, Limnio, Muscat and Moschofilero, with a little Merlot. It is a proper family operation, everyone involved, working land their ancestors would recognise.

Retsina is Greece's oldest and most misunderstood wine. Its origin is practical. Thousands of years ago, before glass and cork, Greeks sealed their wine vessels and amphorae with pine resin to keep the air out. The resin seeped into the wine and gave it a distinctive piney, herbal flavour. When better seals came along the flavour stuck around, because people had grown to love it, and retsina became a style in its own right.

For decades retsina had a rough reputation, churned out cheap and harsh as basic tavern wine. A new wave of Greek producers is rescuing it, treating it as a serious wine with a serious history, and Kamara is right at the heart of that revival.

Their retsina is a blend of Roditis and Assyrtiko. The grapes are direct pressed into tank, where they ferment together with a small amount of pine resin from Aleppo pines up in the mountains of Evia. The resin is tapped carefully, in a way that does not harm the tree and uses no chemicals, which matters to them.

The result is a world away from the cheap stuff. Fresh, golden and gently piney, with the salinity of the grapes underneath and a herbal lift on top. At under 13 euro it is one of the best value bottles we stock. They also make an Assyrtiko orange version called Nimbus Ritinitis, and a chilled red retsina, proof of how far the style can stretch in the right hands.

If there is one thing Greek white wine does better than almost anyone, it is salt. Not literal salt, but a mouth watering, saline, mineral quality that makes the wines taste like a sea breeze.

It comes partly from the grapes, above all Assyrtiko, and partly from where they grow. Sun drenched vineyards, stony soils, and in Kamara's case a slope that was an ocean floor millions of years ago. Add the cooling northern wind that keeps acidity high, and you get whites that are crisp, tangy and refreshing rather than fat or fruity.

Three Kamara whites show this off perfectly. Nimbus Albus is a fifty fifty blend of Assyrtiko and Malagousia. The Assyrtiko brings the citrus and the salty snap, the Malagousia softens it with peach and herbs. It is refined, bright and slightly salty, and one of our favourite Greek whites full stop. Shadow Play White is pure Assyrtiko, one hundred percent, so the salinity is turned right up. It is fresh and zippy but with a creamy texture underneath from time on the lees, which stops it feeling austere. Serious summer drinking.

Stalisma White is the curveball. It blends Malagousia with Xinomavro, a red grape vinified as a white, which gives a bright, mineral, slightly firmer wine with a little extra grip. All three share that unmistakable Greek freshness. Cold, salty, alive, and made for the table.