On his isolated Sicilian hilltop, Francesco Spadafora is fueled by a cocktail of passions: He’s a reflective nature lover, a creative cook and an exacting, self-taught winemaker. “I have three nicknames here,” jokes Spadafora, looking up from an iron gas-burning stove on which he is fussing over lunch on a bright winter’s day.
In the kitchen with family, he explains, he may playfully be “Concetta,” evoking an Italian nonna. On his tractor, he goes by the sturdy Sicilian moniker Calogero. “And in the winery,” he says with a laugh, he is a perfectionist vigneron. “I am François!”
