Local Vodka, Fresh Wine and Bright Sun in Puglia, Italy—A Travel Diary

I’m in the land of my ancestors, in glorious Italy. I’m traversing Puglia, to be precise, speeding past vast groves of olive trees on my way to discover the popular region and maybe (definitely!) have some libations along the way.

The downside? Well, my driver is currently on the phone going back and forth with his son, steering the wheel with his knees.

Such is that laissez-faire life here in Italy, to borrow a phrase from the French. Around these parts, the pure enjoyment of life is colloquially understood as la dolce vita; a term coined by the director Federico Fellini, which deliciously translates to the sweet life. He meant it ironically, but here it’s anything but.

The sweet life here in Puglia is plain to see, even despite what I’m told is a blight affecting those olive trees. I’m staying in Ostuni; a community known as La Citta Bianca, or the White City. Perched near the Adriatic Sea and high above the valley below, it’s populated with stark, white-washed centuries-old buildings called Trulli. I later read it’s been inhabited since the Stone Age and by looking around, it’s easy to believe.

Much like any town in this congenial country, there’s a square where locals and visitors alike tend to gather, surrounding the bustling area are shops (hawking glassware and knitting), simple to-go cafes (which sell local treats like the Panzerotti, a fried hand pie stuffed with cheese) and, naturally, an array of quaint bars and restaurants. I survive my swervy drive and am sitting gazing at the square; outdoor seats here are prevalent when the weather calls for it. Of course, wine in Italy is a must, but stronger stuff is on my mind.

After a local dinner at Drogheria Pugliese where I sipped an Aperol Spritz and munched on Bombette Di Capocollo (sliced pork neck rolls with potato), I glance next door and see Casbah Risto Cafe, and above me are the Casbah’s army of umbrellas. Each of them says ALTAMURA; a local distillery that specializes in vodka. A regional Italian vodka? Yes, you read that right.

The twist here is that the operation, run by ex-New Yorkers I’ve come to learn, utilizes local grain from nearby Altamura, historically used to make bread, which adds to its local credentials. The umbrellas are also a harbinger, as I’m set to meet up with the founder, Frank Grillo, tomorrow, to get a sense of the unique operation.

I order the most local cocktail I can imagine, aside of course, from those Spritzes or the mighty Negroni. It’s an extra dirty vodka Martini, I’ve become a fan of them since 2023 kicked off, and this one is concocted with the Altamura. As I see it, it’s a local cocktail, of course, because of all these olive trees one sees galivanting around the area and the local olio on sale almost everywhere. This one is a perfect blend of the salty brine of the olives of this land and the smooth, crisp vodka.

What Grillo has done with Altamura since its founding a few short years ago since the pandemic is impressive. Later that night as I sit at the bar of my hotel, Ostuni Palace, the only vodka on prominent display there is Altamura; it’s clear bottles which depict a drawn picture of a lion with ribbons of teal, lime and pink. Surprised by the area’s affordability when it comes to libations (I guess I’m just used to my native New York City), I ask for a Hugo (Prosecco, St. Germain and Seltzer) and reflect on the number of calories I’ll consume during my stay here; which I roughly guess could happily reach into the many millions.

The following day, after a long, hot walk exploring more of Ostuni’s wonders and taking in the area’s wildflowers (which inspires a purchase of a local floral room spray from Olyfacts, a family business housed in one of these whitewashed buildings), I sit down to snack on some those famed panzerotti, both savory (with eggplant) and sweet (drenched in Nutella). To compliment it, and to combat the scorching sun, I ask the waiter here for a cold white wine. He brings me a Malvasia from nearby Solento’s Schola Sarmenti winery which I later learn was first opened in 1850 before lying dormant until a recent renovation. It’s subtle; both complimenting my food and helping fight against the heat.

The next day I head to the nearby community of Monopoli and a chic and pristine beach club flanking the Adriatic Sea called Macrame which is outfitted with umbrellas and lounge chairs, as well as a full-service bar and restaurant known for beach friendly grub like calamari and fresh fruit. In this part of Italy, it’s become popular for private entities to temporarily lease property by the beach, and the road leading to Macrame is full of many other similar endeavors. I sit in the sun, splash in the smooth, salty water and order some fried fish. By the end of the day I’m feeling low energy, which is where an espresso martini comes into play.

Of course, Macrame’s featured liquor is Altamura vodka, a bottle I’ve become so accustomed to already here in Puglia, and my cool cocktail does just the trick to power me into dinner in nearby Torre Canne at the family-run seafood restaurant Il Punto. Here, I’m joined by Grillio to pick his brain about life in Puglia. Over plates of focaccia, a tomato-fish stew and a whole Sebring roasted in salt, I hear how Altamura stemmed from pandemic-stifled quarantine to inspire him to leave his native New York and live his dreams here in Italy. In recent months, the vodka was the featured libation at a recent Dolce and Gabbana event in the region which wooed the likes of Kim Kardashian and Helen Mirren and quickly went viral. Elsewhere, it’s been expanding out of Italy and into India, the UK and recently, the United States.

I am full to the brim of the culinary and liquid delights of the region. But since it’s my last night here in Puglia, I couldn’t not say “Cin cin!” to the area with one last sip. The waiters at Il Punto bring out a frosty bottle of homemade Lemoncello, another ubiquitous boozy delight around these parts. It’s as satisfying as this trip to my homeland.