Antonio Vinci - Mandorle di Sardegna
Many of our life stories remain as memories. Some of them turn into life experiences that need to be written down so that we don’t forget what life is all about: nature, people, relationships, and living.
Meeting Antonio Vinci in his hometown of Tuili in Sardinia was one such life experience that needed a few elements to be captured the way it needed to be captured: time, reflection, and a good glass of wine.
The Sardinians often pride themselves on being among the proudest people in the world. After meeting and befriending so many of them, we would partly disagree. We believe that they are, above all, incredibly passionate people, and their love for their land and nature is something we have never experienced in this way before.
Our path to Antonio
When Giorgio Carente, our longtime almond producer in Oliena, decided to take a step back, we politely asked him for a recommendation. Without hesitation, he introduced us to Antonio, saying that he might produce the best almonds he had ever tasted.
I still vividly remember my first conversation with Antonio Vinci. He insisted that we have a phone call first before moving forward. That was typical of Antonio—he wanted to make sure that we shared the same dream as he did. He wanted to ensure that his kind of passion was shared, appreciated, understood, and lived in a similar way by us at Tresmundi. A few weeks later, we held his almonds in our hands. Giorgio was right: they were better than anything we had ever had before. Antonio’s almonds were the best!
Tuili, the place where time stands still.
We always say that good things take time. At the end of June 2024, we finally met Antonio in Tuili, a place in Sardinia where one could say time has stood still.
Tuili is located in the heart of Marmilla, a region in the south-central part of Sardinia, at the foot of the Giara Plateau, an impressive archaeological site and park. Here, the "Cavallini," the small horses that are the last wild horses in Europe, roam. The hills leading up to the "Giara" are lined with long rows of oleanders, olive trees, and almond trees.
If this were a painting, we would call it "And Time Stood Still Beautifully."
Meeting Antonio
There I was, thinking punctuality was a German word. It's exactly 6:30 PM, and Antonio is waiting outside: we’re about to take a tour of the almond grove, and I’m as excited as a child.
I crack a joke and tell him how he promised me good wine and a sunset in the grove, but the only thing I see is a cloudy sky, something I rarely encounter in Sardinia. "Have a little faith, Alex," he says…
We drive up the hills, and no more than 10 minutes later, we stand in front of the gate to the grove. It’s already beautiful: behind me, the hills rise up to the "Giara," while in front of me, Marmilla unfolds in all its splendor. I take a moment to breathe and admire God’s work. Meanwhile, Mari, Antonio’s fiancée, and Matteo, his friend, apprentice, employee, social media manager, and very talented photo and video producer, join us. The group is complete, and we are ready for the evening.
Of man and nature
"How did it all begin?" I ask. He tells me how he wanted a "Plan B," something that would allow him to break free from regular work and give him a path back to nature.
Once again, I hear something I've often heard from our other friends in Sardinia:
Working the land is something almost no one wants to do anymore. Yet nature has its own ways of leading us back there, doesn’t it? It’s interesting how he describes it, saying that it’s hard work, but even more, it’s about care and attention.
I love the way he speaks. There’s a special frequency when people talk about their true passion. Very quickly, I realize that this isn’t just about almonds, but much more: It’s about a deeper connection to nature, something that some people spend their whole lives searching for and never find, while others find it and never let go.
Antonio loves everything that surrounds him: the vividly green almond trees in the sun-dried soil, the "Mistral," the wind that comes from the north and cools the hot land on its way to the sea, the citrus trees, and the wild olive trees that rise up from bushes of rosemary and thyme. All of this creates a heavenly kind of peace that tells me that everything around him loves him back.
These beautiful almond trees
We begin by visiting the almond trees that were planted in 2019. I learn that it takes more than five years for an almond tree to mature enough to produce almonds.
"Ogni taglio stimola crescere di più" – Every cut helps the plant grow stronger.
Pruning is something that happens every year, especially in the first two to three years, when the branches need to become strong enough to withstand the strong winds from the north. He points to the long rows of oleanders and olive trees that stretch from the top to the bottom of the hill, growing wild and forming a natural protective barrier.
Antonio gets his plants very young, from a certified organic nursery, where each plant gets its so-called ‘Passaporto della pianta,’ the plant passport. He plants them according to strict mathematical models (mainly following Pythagoras' 5x5 rule) to cope with water and nutrient scarcity. The land here has no underground water reserves, and there is no irrigation. Again, he emphasizes that there is no chemical treatment and no other help except pruning, shaping, and mowing the grass. It’s important that the plant is dense on the outside and hollow on the inside, he says. The density helps protect the plant.
"Noi il terreno non lo lavoriamo mai. Favoriamo la biodiversità." – "We never work the land, we promote biodiversity."
He proudly shows me the "natural green carpet" and points out that they never work the land, only mow the grass and leave it lying on the ground. This ensures a natural biodiversity that acts as a protective layer, keeps the soil moist, and creates life for microorganisms: everything must be in balance.
Ready for sunset
On the way up, I stop, hold my breath, and look: I am in a unique place, surrounded by most of my favorite plants: oleanders, olive trees, pomegranates, almond and citrus trees, rosemary, and thistles. Heavenly beautiful...
On the way to the promised sunset, they all stop now, and we have a little quiz. Yellow bushes cover the field, and they ask me if I know what it is. Little do they know that we planted our own lentils at home, from those we brought from Roberto, a little further south of Tuili. They laugh, almost disappointed that I know the answer to this question. Right after that, I taste a green almond for the first time in my life. I’m not sure which I love more: the unripe one or the ripe one.
This is the perfect ending: the clouds gently dissolve and unfold into the endless blue. Mari, who has stoically carried the glasses and the wine bottle, is now relieved.
At a place surrounded by wild olive trees, overlooking Marmilla, we make our last stop. Only our breath, the crickets, the wind, and the wine bubbles disturb the silence that naturally settles with the sunset, as we tune into the frequency of this magical place and this unique moment.
