Before natural wine had a name in Moravia, Richard Stávek was already doing it. He started farming his vines in the mid-1990s — before the scene existed, before the terminology arrived, before anyone was paying attention to this corner of Central Europe. He came to wine not through inheritance but through curiosity: his background was in food and wine journalism, which meant he understood exactly what was missing from the bottles around him.
Today he farms 15 hectares near Němčičky in southern Moravia — but less than a third of that is vines. The rest is an ecosystem: goats he makes cheese from, bees whose honey goes into Medový Muškátek, apricot and cherry orchards, seasonal vegetables. He even dries oak staves that find their way into barrels made by Stockinger, one of Austria's most respected cooperages. The same oak ends up in his wines: old barrels, slow aging, texture without weight.
His 4.5 hectares of vines average 50 years in age, planted in the sandy, limestone-rich soils of southern Moravia. Most of his wines are field blends — multiple varieties grown and harvested together from the same plot, fermented as one. Riesling, Grüner Veltliner, Blaufrankisch, St. Laurent, local Moravian varieties, all growing side by side the way they always did before anyone decided monoculture was efficient.
Nothing added. Nothing forced. No sulphur, no fining, no filtration. Whole bunches, foot-stomped, fermented with indigenous yeast in open wooden tanks. His wines are patient because he is patient. Worth every year of the wait.
