The Dieci Boutique Journal

There is a moment in every agricultural project when its founders must make a decision. Not a technical decision. Not a financial decision. A philosophical one.

The question is simple: Are you trying to control nature? Or are you trying to understand it?

Most modern agriculture chooses control. Control creates predictability. Predictability creates efficiency. Efficiency creates scale. Scale creates profit. The formula is familiar. Monteremi chose something else.

Hidden in the rolling landscape near Elhovo in the Stara Zagora region of Bulgaria, Monteremi is not merely a winery. It is an argument. An argument against unnecessary intervention. Against shortcuts. Against the assumption that modern agriculture always improves what came before.

And perhaps most importantly, against the belief that bigger automatically means better.

At Dieci Boutique Restaurant, we are drawn to producers who make difficult decisions for the right reasons. Monteremi is one of them.

A Hill That Refuses Convenience

The first thing visitors notice about Monteremi is that the vineyard itself appears inconvenient. The slope is steep. The terrain is demanding. The soil is stubborn. There are easier places to plant vines. This is precisely why the site matters. Great agriculture often begins where convenience ends.

The vineyard stretches across a limestone-rich hillside surrounded by wild herbs, native vegetation, and the rhythms of an environment that remains largely untouched by industrial thinking.

Thyme grows naturally. Yarrow appears where it chooses. St. John’s wort shares the landscape with the vines. The result is not merely visual beauty. It is ecological complexity. The vineyard behaves less like a factory. More like an ecosystem. And ecosystems produce character.

Anton and the Refusal of Excess

Every serious winery eventually becomes a reflection of the person guiding it. At Monteremi, that person is Anton.

His philosophy is radical only because modern agriculture has become accustomed to the opposite. The vineyard avoids heavy machinery. Chemical fertilizers are rejected. Intervention remains minimal. Nature is not treated as an obstacle to overcome. It is treated as a partner. This does not make the work easier. Quite the opposite.

Low-intervention farming demands greater observation. Greater patience. Greater humility. The farmer cannot simply impose solutions. The farmer must first understand problems. This difference changes everything. Because understanding requires attention. And attention remains one of the rarest resources in modern agriculture.

The Beauty of Imperfection

Modern consumers are often trained to expect consistency. Every bottle should taste identical. Every harvest should behave predictably. Every vintage should resemble the previous one. Monteremi rejects this expectation. Not recklessly. Intentionally.

The winery embraces vintage variation. Seasonal influence. Natural differences. Because these elements represent truth.

A wine that changes from year to year is not necessarily flawed. It may simply be honest. Climate changes. Rainfall changes. Sunlight changes. The vines respond accordingly.

Monteremi allows those changes to remain visible. The wines become records of time. Not products of standardization.

Fermentation Without a Script

One of the defining characteristics of Monteremi is its commitment to spontaneous fermentation. No commercial yeast. No engineered shortcuts.

The process begins with naturally occurring microorganisms already present in the vineyard and cellar.

This approach introduces risk. Fermentations can behave unpredictably. Timelines become less certain. Results become less uniform. Many wineries avoid these risks. Monteremi embraces them. Because complexity often emerges from uncertainty.

The yeast population becomes part of the terroir. Part of the vineyard’s identity. Part of the final expression. The wine does not merely come from the vineyard. It comes from the living ecosystem surrounding the vineyard. This distinction may seem subtle. Its impact is profound.

The Orange Revolution

Among Monteremi’s most fascinating wines is Gewürztraminer Floria.

At first glance, the choice appears unusual. Gewürztraminer is not a grape typically associated with Bulgarian identity. Yet Monteremi’s interpretation feels deeply connected to place. Through extended skin contact, the wine enters the world of orange wine. The result is textured.

• Aromatic.
• Structured.
• Layered.
• Floral notes intertwine with spice.
• Freshness meets grip.

The wine becomes simultaneously familiar and surprising.

At Dieci, this style of wine plays an important role. Not because it is fashionable. Because it creates conversation. Orange wines occupy a space between categories. Guests must pay attention. Assumptions become unreliable. Discovery becomes possible.

Sagrantino in Bulgaria

Perhaps no decision better illustrates Monteremi’s spirit than the cultivation of Sagrantino. The grape is famously difficult. Tannic. Demanding. Stubborn. Most producers would not consider it an obvious choice. Anton did.

And that choice reveals something important. Monteremi is not attempting to replicate established formulas. The winery explores possibility.

• What happens when difficult grapes meet unexpected landscapes?
• What happens when unconventional decisions are given enough time?
• What happens when experimentation is guided by conviction rather than trend?

The answers appear bottle by bottle. Vintage by vintage. Slowly. Patiently. Without fanfare.

Saturnalia

Every winery eventually produces a bottle that serves as a manifesto.

At Monteremi, Saturnalia comes remarkably close. The blend combines Pinot Noir, Sangiovese, Cabernet Franc, and Sagrantino. Each variety contributes something essential.

• Finesse.
• Freshness.
• Structure.
• Depth.

The wine becomes a conversation between grapes. A balance between restraint and intensity.

At Dieci, Saturnalia performs beautifully alongside some of the restaurant’s most complex dishes.

Wild truffles. Aged dairy. Slow-cooked proteins. Fermented elements.

The wine does not dominate. It participates. Which is exactly what great wine should do.

Why Monteremi Belongs at Dieci Boutique Restaurant?

Many producers create excellent products. Far fewer share a common philosophy.

Monteremi and Dieci arrive at similar conclusions from different directions.

The winery believes that intervention should be limited. The restaurant believes that ingredients should speak clearly.

The winery values ecological intelligence. The restaurant values circular gastronomy.

The winery chooses quality over quantity. The restaurant serves ten guests.

The parallels are obvious. Both projects reject industrial logic. Both prioritize authenticity over efficiency. Both understand that limitations can become strengths.

This alignment creates a natural partnership. The wines do not merely accompany the menu. They reinforce its worldview.

The Future of Small Producers

The future of gastronomy will not belong exclusively to the largest producers. Nor should it.

Some of the most important agricultural ideas emerge from small projects operating far from the spotlight. Monteremi represents this reality. A single hillside. A focused vision. A commitment to patience. A willingness to remain small.

In a world increasingly obsessed with scale, these qualities become revolutionary. Because scale can produce volume. But it rarely produces intimacy. And intimacy is where character lives.

A Different Definition of Success

Success in wine is often measured through numbers. Cases produced. Markets entered. Awards won. Exports achieved.

Monteremi invites a different measurement.

• Can a vineyard remain honest?
• Can a producer remain curious?
• Can a wine remain connected to its place?
• Can agriculture remain human?

These questions matter more than production statistics. Because they determine whether a winery becomes memorable. Monteremi has chosen its answer. The hard way. The slow way. The uncertain way. The human way.

And that is precisely why its wines belong at Dieci. Not because they are perfect. Because they are alive. And because every bottle reminds us that nature rarely produces greatness through control.

It produces greatness through relationship. The vineyard listens. The wine responds. The guest discovers. And the conversation continues.

Luxury dining has become remarkably predictable.

Walk into enough acclaimed restaurants—in Paris, Rome, London, Dubai or New York—and the differences begin to disappear. The lighting changes. The tableware changes. The wine list changes. Yet the underlying proposition remains almost identical: prestige, abundance and even fake polished execution.

The industry calls this excellence.

Perhaps it has mistaken consistency for it.

Picture Credits: Velislav Baldev professional photographer, filmmaker, and editor from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Lyon Visuals

The Restaurant That Refuses to Compete

Most restaurants compete on the same battlefield.

• A larger cellar.
• A more celebrated chef.
• A longer tasting menu.
• A rarer ingredient.
• A higher position on a ranking that few diners can explain.

This is an arms race. It rewards scale, investment and spectacle.

Dieci has chosen not to enter it. Not because it cannot compete. Because it rejects the premise that this is what a great restaurant should aspire to become.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Scarcity Is Not a Marketing Strategy

In most luxury businesses, scarcity is manufactured.

• Limited editions.
• Invitation-only access.
• Artificial waiting lists.

Scarcity becomes another product to sell. Dieci approaches it differently.

There are only a handful of seats because the experience cannot exist at a larger scale without becoming something else. Every additional table would dilute the attention. Every additional member of staff would increase distance between the guest and the people creating the experience.

Growth is possible. Replication is not. There is an important difference.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Local Is Not a Decoration

Many restaurants speak proudly about local ingredients.

Far fewer are willing to build an entire business around them.

Imported luxury has become the industry’s default language. Caviar from one country. Wagyu from another. Truffles from somewhere else.

There is nothing inherently wrong with these products.

But they are available to anyone with sufficient purchasing power.

They are not identity.

Identity begins where substitution ends.

When the landscape, its producers and its seasons become impossible to replace, the restaurant stops borrowing prestige from elsewhere and begins creating its own.

Picture Credits: Velislav Baldev professional photographer, filmmaker, and editor from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Lyon Visuals

Picture Credits: Velislav Baldev professional photographer, filmmaker, and editor from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Lyon Visuals

Excellence Is Quiet

The hospitality industry has developed an unhealthy obsession with visibility.

• Awards.
• Rankings.
• Social media.
• Appearances.
• Public relations.

None of these are evidence of quality.

They are evidence of attention.

The two are frequently confused.

Restaurants have closed with shelves full of trophies.

Others remain fully booked for decades without ever entering a competition.

The market eventually discovers substance.

It only takes longer.

Picture Credits: Hristiyan Agushev professional photographer from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Lyon Visuals

Picture Credits: Hristiyan Agushev professional photographer from Plovdiv, Bulgaria. Lyon Visuals

The Future Belongs to Conviction

Trying to satisfy everyone has never produced remarkable restaurants.

It produces safe menus.

• Safe interiors.
• Safe opinions.
• Safe businesses.

Dieci makes choices that inevitably exclude some people.

That is not a weakness.

It is the unavoidable consequence of having standards.

Restaurants that know exactly who they are will always appear divisive to those who expect them to be everything at once.

History suggests that the future rarely belongs to consensus.

It belongs to conviction.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Zero Dilution of Quality:

In Sofia—and any major city—“top” restaurants are machines. Executive chef, sous chefs, line cooks, front-of-house. Layers. And with layers comes dilution.

At Dieci, there is no hierarchy. No middlemen. No weak links. The same hands that forage the ingredients in the farm or in the forest are the ones cooking and serving them. Nothing gets lost in translation because there is no translation. That level of purity is structurally impossible to replicate in a 40+-cover urban operation with staff turnover and operational noise.

Radical Sustainability vs. Greenwashing:

City restaurants love the language of sustainability. “Farm-to-table,” “local sourcing,” “seasonal menus.” But they only scratch the surface—most still rely on industrial supply chains to function.

Dieci doesn’t. They generate their own electricity. Pump their own water. Grow most of what they serve. This isn’t branding—it’s infrastructure. In a city, independence is a marketing angle. In Devino, it’s survival. And diners can feel the difference immediately.

The Anti-Vibe

Urban dining is built for throughput—noise, speed, turnover. Dieci rejects all of it.

The Pace: You don’t book a table—you occupy a space for the night. No rush, no pressure, no silent expectation to leave.

The Setting: A restored schoolhouse in a village of ten people forces a mental reset. No distractions. No performance. Just presence. It’s not ambiance. It’s psychological decompression.

Intellectual Honesty

Sofia’s “aspiring” fine dining scene often tries unsuccessfully to imitate London, Paris, Dubai—anywhere but itself.

Dieci goes in the opposite direction. They take Bulgarian ingredients—humble, overlooked, often dismissed—and treat them with world-class precision. No theatrics. No borrowed identity. It doesn’t feel like luxury being performed. It feels like mastery being exercised.

Intentional Scarcity

City restaurants need volume. Rent demands it. Investors expect it.

Dieci serves ten people. That constraint flips everything. You’re not a customer—you’re selected. You travel to them, on their terms. The experience isn’t optimized for accessibility; it’s optimized for meaning. And that makes every bite successful.

So, Is This the Future of Fine Dining?

Yes—and no. Because what Dieci has built isn’t just a restaurant. It’s a high-stakes personality play.
Most city establishments are built on compromise: investors, landlords, PR cycles, social positioning. That pressure flattens originality. It forces safety.

Dieci is the opposite.

The All-In Bet

Relocating to a village of ten people isn’t romantic—it’s ruthless. There’s no walk-in traffic. No second chances. If the food isn’t exceptional, the business dies immediately. That kind of pressure creates clarity. Focus sharp enough to cut through anything. Quality is real, products are honest and creativity paramount.

The Power of the Auteur

This is not a “concept.” It’s authorship. Like a filmmaker who writes, directs, and edits their own work, the Chiarini’s removed every corporate layer between vision and execution. You’re not buying food. You’re stepping into someone’s unfiltered worldview.

Resilience as Luxury

In cities, problems are outsourced.

In isolation, they’re solved—or you fail. Power outage? You fix it. Plumbing issue? You deal with it. Supply chain? You are the supply chain. That level of self-reliance doesn’t just sustain the business—it defines the experience. Guests feel it in every detail. It feels real and earned.

The Hard Truth

This model is not scalable. It’s not teachable. And it’s definitely not for everyone. Because most people don’t want this level of risk. They want the safety of systems. The comfort of consensus. The illusion of control.

What Dieci requires is something else entirely: 0% ego, but 100% endurance, and the willingness to burn every fallback option.

Most chefs use that drive to chase stars in Paris or London.

Dieci used it to build a self-sustaining fortress in the Bulgarian countryside.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Picture Credits: Anna van Dorp: @annavandorp (Professional Photographer, Film maker, Editor) Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Monaco, Leadership, and the Conversations that shape gastronomy

Most people imagine gastronomy through plates. A dish arrives. A photograph is taken. A meal is remembered. Yet much of the future of gastronomy is not decided in dining rooms.

It is decided in conversations. Around tables where chefs exchange ideas. Inside conferences where experience is shared rather than displayed.

Within gatherings where some of the world’s most respected culinary professionals meet not to compete, but to think collectively about what comes next.

The Chefs World Summit in Monaco represents one of those gatherings.

For several days, Monaco became a meeting point for some of the most influential figures in contemporary gastronomy. Multiple Michelin-starred chefs, culinary innovators, hospitality leaders, sommeliers, educators, and industry visionaries came together to discuss the future of the profession.

Names such as Michel Bras, Akrame Benallal, Mauro Colagreco, Yannick Alléno, Thierry Marx, Alexandre Mazzia, Cyril Lignac, Antoine Petrus, Babette de Rozières, and many others have helped shape the modern culinary landscape. Their restaurants, books, research, mentorship, and leadership influence thousands of professionals across the globe.

Chef. Mauro Colagreco (France)

Chef. Gianfranco Chiarini (Italy)

Chef. Joan Roca (Spain)

What makes such gatherings remarkable is not simply the prestige of the names involved.

It is the exchange.

The willingness of accomplished professionals to continue learning from one another.

The understanding that gastronomy is never finished.

It evolves.

Every generation inherits knowledge and then contributes something new.

The responsibility of leadership is ensuring that knowledge continues moving forward.

Among the chefs participating in these conversations was Chef Gianfranco Chiarini, chef/owner of the renowned Dieci Boutique Restaurant; considered Bulgaria’s Best Fine Dining and starred food experience, serving as a member of the International Committee of the Chefs World Summit.

For Chiarini, whose career has spanned more than one hundred countries, multiple continents, luxury hospitality groups, culinary education, food engineering, sustainability initiatives, and restaurant development, the summit represented something larger than individual recognition.

It represented dialogue.

Throughout a professional journey that has connected cultures, cuisines, and culinary traditions, one principle has remained constant:

Great gastronomy grows through the sharing of knowledge.

No chef develops alone. No cuisine evolves in isolation.

Every advancement is built upon conversations that began long before us.

The discussions held during the summit explored many of the questions currently shaping the industry.

How should chefs respond to changing consumer expectations?

How can gastronomy preserve cultural identity while embracing innovation?

What role should sustainability play in luxury hospitality?

How can future generations of chefs be educated not only as technicians, but as leaders?

These are not small questions.

They are questions that influence the future of restaurants, producers, suppliers, educators, and ultimately the guests themselves.

Perhaps this is why gatherings such as the Chefs World Summit remain important.

The public often sees the finished result.

• The plate.
• The menu.
• The restaurant.

What remains invisible are the conversations that helped create them.

• The exchange of ideas.
• The challenge of assumptions.
• The willingness to listen.

The humility required to continue learning regardless of experience.

Following the summit, Catherine Decuyper, CEO of Euromedicom and Informa Connect Paris, publicly acknowledged Chef Gianfranco Chiarini’s contribution to the event.

Her words were simple but meaningful.

She described his contribution as bringing “real added value” to the summit, highlighting both his broad knowledge and his perspective on the gastronomic world.

Recognition from industry leaders is always appreciated.

Yet perhaps the most meaningful aspect of such recognition is what it represents.

Respect among peers.

Trust built through years of work.

The understanding that experience becomes most valuable when it is shared.

At Dieci Boutique Restaurant, we often speak about craftsmanship.

Craftsmanship is not limited to cooking.

• It is equally present in mentorship.
• In leadership.
• In education.

In the willingness to contribute knowledge so that others may build upon it.

The future of gastronomy will not be shaped by individual chefs alone.

It will be shaped by communities of professionals willing to collaborate, exchange ideas, and challenge one another to improve.

That future is being written every day.

• Sometimes in kitchens.
• Sometimes in classrooms.
• Sometimes in restaurants.

And occasionally, in Monaco, when many of the world’s culinary leaders gather in one place and ask a simple question:

What comes next?

The answer, as always, is still being written.

For centuries, wine belonged to the countryside. Vineyards stretched across valleys. Cellars hid beneath farms. Harvests followed agricultural rhythms. The relationship seemed obvious.

Grapes grew in rural landscapes. Wine was made where the grapes were grown. Few people questioned the arrangement.

• Then came Odessos.

Located within the city limits of Varna, on Bulgaria’s Black Sea coast, Odessos Urban Winery challenges one of wine’s oldest assumptions.

• What if the vineyard and the winery do not need to occupy the same geography?
• What if a city can become a place of transformation without losing the integrity of terroir?
• What if urban life and agricultural authenticity are not opposites?

The answers have helped establish Odessos as one of the most interesting voices in Bulgaria’s modern wine movement. And at Dieci, those answers matter. Because we are attracted to producers who challenge conventions without abandoning principles. Odessos does exactly that.

“A winery born between city and sea.”

A Name Older Than the City

Long before Varna existed as we know it today, there was Odessos.

Founded during the sixth century BC, the ancient Greek colony became one of the most important settlements along the western Black Sea coast. Merchants passed through. Ideas passed through. Cultures passed through. The city became a crossroads. A meeting point between worlds.

The choice of the name Odessos is not accidental. It reflects continuity.

The winery positions itself not as a rejection of history but as an extension of it. Ancient cities evolve. Ancient cultures evolve. Ancient wine traditions evolve.

The challenge is preserving identity while embracing change. Odessos Urban Winery exists precisely within that tension.

“Some names survive because they continue telling stories.”

The Urban Winery Revolution

When Georgi and Vladislav Vankov returned to Bulgaria after years working harvests in Australia, New Zealand, and Chile, they could have followed a familiar path. Purchase land. Build a rural cellar. Create a traditional estate.

Instead, they chose something unexpected. They brought the winery into the city.

For many traditionalists, the idea seemed counterintuitive. Wine belonged in vineyards. Not urban environments. But the Vankov brothers understood something important.

Terroir originates in the vineyard. Not the building. The grapes remain the source of identity. The cellar’s role is interpretation.

By sourcing fruit from carefully selected vineyard sites throughout the Northern Black Sea region, they could preserve terroir while creating an entirely different winemaking experience.

The result became one of Bulgaria’s pioneering urban wineries.

“Tradition preserved through reinvention.”

The Geography of Precision

Odessos does not own vast vineyard holdings. This decision is deliberate. Instead, the winery works closely with carefully selected sites in locations such as Venchan, Blaskovo, Tsonevo, and Kavarna.

Each vineyard possesses its own character. Its own microclimate. Its own soil structure. Its own relationship with the Black Sea.

The winery becomes less an estate and more a curator. A collector of terroirs. A translator of landscapes. This approach requires extraordinary precision.

When a producer works with multiple vineyard sites, understanding becomes essential. The differences cannot be ignored. They must be studied. Respected. Interpreted. Every bottle becomes a conversation between place and winemaker.

“Every site contributes a different voice.”

Dimyat: A Grape Coming Home

Few varieties represent Bulgaria’s Black Sea heritage more clearly than Dimyat. For generations, the grape existed largely in the background. It was familiar. Common. Often overlooked.

The problem with familiarity is that it can create blindness. People stop paying attention. They stop asking questions. They stop imagining possibilities. Odessos approached Dimyat differently.

The winery treated the grape as worthy of serious attention. Single-vineyard expressions emerged. The grape gained focus. Precision. Identity.

Suddenly, Dimyat was no longer simply a local variety. It became a lens through which the Black Sea coast could express itself. At Dieci, this matters enormously. We believe local ingredients deserve ambition. Dimyat deserves ambition. Odessos provides it.

“Familiarity often hides greatness.”

The Influence of the Sea

Many wine regions speak about mountains. Others celebrate rivers. The Black Sea contributes something different. A maritime influence. Constant air movement. Moderated temperatures. Distinct mineral signatures. The sea acts as a silent partner. It shapes ripening. Protects freshness. Influences acidity. Guides balance.

Guests often struggle to identify exactly what maritime influence tastes like. The answer is subtle. Not a flavor. A sensation. Energy. Tension. Freshness. The wines feel alive. The sea rarely shouts. It whispers. The best coastal wines learn to do the same.

“The sea leaves fingerprints, not signatures.”

Cabernet Franc and Confidence

If Dimyat expresses local identity, Cabernet Franc reveals technical confidence.

Odessos has earned considerable recognition through its Cabernet Franc Kavarna Single Vineyard.

The wine has received critical praise, including placement among Bulgaria’s most respected wines and recognition at international competitions. Yet what interests us most is not the award. It is the philosophy behind the wine.

Many producers seek recognition through imitation. They create wines that resemble established international benchmarks. Odessos pursues something different. The goal is not to copy. The goal is to express.

Cabernet Franc becomes a vehicle for Black Sea terroir rather than an imitation of Loire Valley traditions. This distinction matters.

Recognition achieved through authenticity carries greater weight than recognition achieved through imitation.

“Confidence emerges when comparison becomes unnecessary.”

Why Dieci Chose Odessos

At first glance, a remote restaurant in Devino and an urban winery in Varna might appear unrelated.

• One operates in near isolation.
• The other embraces city life.
• One exists within a village.
• The other exists within Bulgaria’s maritime capital.

Yet beneath these differences lies remarkable alignment. Both challenge assumptions. Both reject easy categorization. Both seek Bulgarian identity without becoming trapped by tradition. Both believe excellence can emerge from unexpected places. Most importantly, both believe place matters. Not as marketing. As truth.

When Anna Chiarini selects Odessos wines for the pairing program, she is selecting more than bottles. She is selecting perspectives. Different expressions of modern Bulgaria. Different interpretations of terroir. Different visions of what the future might look like.

“A conversation between coast and countryside.”

The New Bulgaria

For many years, international perceptions of Bulgarian wine remained incomplete.

The country possessed extraordinary vineyards. Talented producers. Historic varieties. Yet much of the narrative remained hidden. The new generation of wineries is changing that reality.

Each approaches the challenge differently. But all share a common goal. To demonstrate that Bulgarian wine deserves serious attention. Not because it is emerging. Because it has arrived.

Odessos contributes a particularly important chapter to this story. The chapter that says innovation and authenticity can coexist. That cities and terroir can coexist. That tradition and experimentation can coexist. The future rarely belongs exclusively to either side. It belongs to those capable of building bridges.

“The future is built bottle by bottle.”

Wine Without Borders

One of the most fascinating aspects of Odessos is how naturally it moves between worlds.
Urban and rural. Ancient and contemporary. Local and international. Traditional and experimental.

These categories often appear incompatible. The winery proves otherwise. Great wine rarely emerges from rigid thinking. It emerges from curiosity. From observation. From willingness to challenge assumptions. Odessos embodies that spirit. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Quietly. Consistently. Bottle after bottle. Vintage after vintage.

The winery continues demonstrating that geography is more complex than maps suggest. The vineyard may exist outside the city. The winery may exist inside it. The wine belongs to both.

“Some wines connect places rather than choose between them.”

A Glass of the Black Sea

At Dieci, every wine serves a purpose. Not merely gastronomic. Narrative.

The Odessos wines remind guests that Bulgaria contains multiple identities.

Mountain. Forest. Valley. River. Village. Sea. Each contributes something essential.

The Black Sea coast has shaped Bulgarian history for thousands of years. Trade. Culture. Agriculture. Ideas. Wine. Odessos captures part of that legacy. Not as nostalgia. As living reality.

And when a guest lifts a glass of Dimyat or Cabernet Franc in a small dining room inside a century-old schoolhouse in Devino, the distance between coast and countryside disappears. The wine becomes a bridge. And bridges are among the most valuable things any producer can create. Because they allow stories to travel. Just as they have for centuries. From Odessos. To Varna. To Devino. And beyond.

By Dieci Boutique Restaurant.

Every year at Dieci Boutique Restaurant, we taste wines from across Bulgaria. Some are technically impressive. Some arrive with medals, scores, and recognition. Others come with carefully crafted marketing stories. What captures our attention, however, is rarely any of those things.

We are drawn to producers whose work reflects the same values that shape our restaurant: patience, respect for nature, attention to detail, and an understanding that excellence is usually the result of hundreds of small decisions repeated consistently over time.

The first time we encountered the wines of Damyanov Winery, that connection was immediately apparent.

Not because the wines were trying to impress us.
Because they weren’t.

The wines felt grounded. They felt honest. They seemed more interested in expressing where they came from than competing with somewhere else. In a world where many wineries still measure themselves against international benchmarks, that confidence stood out.

And it led us to Strumyani.

“Some partnerships begin with shared values.”

A Valley With Deep Roots

The Struma River Valley is one of the oldest wine-growing regions on the Balkan Peninsula. Stretching through southwestern Bulgaria, it has been producing wine for centuries, shaped by a combination of Mediterranean influence, limestone soils, mountain air, and a climate uniquely suited to viticulture.

This is where Damyanov Winery was born.

Located in the village of Strumyani, at approximately 350 meters above sea level, the winery works with vineyards planted on predominantly limestone soils with some clay, most of them facing south toward the sun.

The conditions create a distinctive micro-terroir that reveals itself differently in every variety grown there, whether international grapes such as Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon or local varieties deeply connected to the valley itself.

At Dieci, we often speak about place. Not because it is fashionable, but because place remains one of the few things that cannot be copied. You can replicate a recipe. You can imitate a technique. You can purchase the same equipment. But you cannot reproduce a landscape.

The wines of Damyanov remind us of that truth.

The landscape behind every bottle.”

Three Generations

Wine and vineyards have been part of the Damyanov family story for generations.

The story begins with Prokop Marinkov, a participant in the Second World War who returned home and established vineyards after the war. The responsibility later passed to his son-in-law, Yanush Damyanov, a respected school director, public figure, and honorary citizen of Strumyani Municipality. Today, Vladimir Damyanov and his family continue the work, cultivating the vineyards and operating the family winery.

What resonates with us is not simply the continuity itself.
It is the commitment required to maintain it.

People often speak about heritage as though it is automatically passed from one generation to another. Vineyards teach a different lesson. Heritage survives only when somebody chooses to continue caring for it. Every generation must decide whether the work is worth carrying forward.

The Damyanov family made that decision repeatedly.
And because they did, the story continues.

“Heritage survives through people.”

Less Is More

The modern world rewards scale.

Larger vineyards.
Larger harvests.
Greater efficiency.
Greater production.

Damyanov has deliberately chosen another direction.

The family practices natural farming and relies heavily on manual labor. Their vineyards, many of them between fifty and sixty years old, receive individual attention throughout the season. Quality comes before quantity. The vineyard dictates the rhythm rather than the market.

This philosophy is summarized by a simple principle that appears repeatedly in conversations with the family:

Less is more.
Less intervention in the vineyard.
Less intervention in the cellar.
Less manipulation of the final wine.

At Dieci, this approach feels familiar. Much of our cooking follows the same logic. The objective is not to demonstrate how much can be done to an ingredient. The objective is to reveal what was already there.

Whether in a vineyard or in a kitchen, restraint requires confidence.

“The vineyard sets the pace.”

Broad-Leaved Melnik

Every producer has something that defines them.
For Damyanov Winery, that identity is inseparable from Broad-Leaved Melnik Vine.

Ancient, indigenous, and found only in the Struma Valley, this variety occupies a unique place in Bulgarian wine culture. Attempts to cultivate it successfully outside the region have repeatedly failed. It belongs to this landscape in a way few grape varieties belong to any place.
The grape is challenging.

It ripens late, often reaching full maturity in October or even November. It requires patience and introduces risk, particularly as weather patterns become increasingly unpredictable. Yet the Damyanov family views those challenges not as obstacles but as part of the grape’s identity.
Their commitment goes beyond production.

They see Broad-Leaved Melnik as one of the varieties most capable of representing Bulgarian wine internationally. It is not difficult to understand why. The wines possess elegance, freshness, remarkable aging potential, and a personality that cannot be mistaken for anything else.

At Dieci, where we constantly search for ingredients and products that speak clearly of their origin, Broad-Leaved Melnik feels especially important. It is not simply a wine.

It is a story that could only have come from one place.

“A grape inseparable from its landscape.”

Beyond Comparison

One of the most refreshing aspects of Damyanov Winery is that it refuses to chase imitation.
Their Merlot does not aspire to become Bordeaux.
Their Cabernet Sauvignon is not trying to reproduce another region.

Instead, the family uses these international varieties to express the character of their own micro-region, often blending them alongside local grapes to create wines that are distinctly Bulgarian while remaining internationally understandable.

This approach mirrors something we believe strongly at Dieci.

The future of Bulgarian gastronomy will not be built by becoming a copy of somewhere else. It will be built by understanding what already exists here and presenting it with confidence.

Damyanov understands this.
The wines do not ask permission to be Bulgarian.
They simply are.

“Expression over imitation.”

At The Table

A partnership between a winery and a restaurant should be about more than logistics.
It should be about alignment.

When Anna Chiarini selects wines for our pairings, she is not simply looking for technical quality. She is looking for producers whose values complement the experience we want guests to have.

Damyanov fits naturally into that ecosystem.

The wines possess freshness and structure that allow them to accompany food without overwhelming it. More importantly, they carry a sense of place and authenticity that reflects the broader philosophy of Dieci. They are the result of patience, observation, and respect for nature—qualities we strive to honor every day in our own work.

When guests encounter Damyanov wines in the dining room, they are not simply tasting a bottle.
They are tasting a family story.

A valley.
A landscape.
A tradition that continues because people still believe it matters.

“The meeting point between vineyard and table.”

Looking Forward

There is a famous story that Winston Churchill received hundreds of liters of Melnik wine every year in London.

Whether remembered as history or legend, it reminds us that the wines of the Struma Valley have long been appreciated beyond Bulgaria’s borders.

Today, families like the Damyanov’s continue writing the next chapter.

Not by preserving the past unchanged.
Not by chasing trends.

But by carrying forward a tradition while remaining open to the future.
That balance may be the most impressive achievement of all.

At Dieci, we are proud to share their wines with our guests, not simply because they are excellent, but because they represent something we value deeply: the belief that the future becomes more meaningful when it remains connected to its roots.

https://damyanovwinery.com/en

By Dieci Boutique Restaurant.

A century ago, children entered this building carrying notebooks. Today, travellers enter carrying reservations.

The purpose has changed. The act of gathering has not. That is the strange beauty of old buildings. They outlive the intentions of their creators. They survive governments. They survive economic systems. They survive wars. They survive generations. They witness lives that will never meet one another. And yet they continue serving the same fundamental purpose. Bringing people together.

The building that now houses Dieci Boutique Restaurant was not designed for gastronomy.
It was designed for education.

More than one hundred years ago, it served as the village schoolhouse of Devino. Children sat where diners now sit. Lessons were taught where wine is now poured. Conversations about arithmetic, history, and language once echoed through the same walls that now host conversations about food, wine, memory, and place.

When we first encountered the building, we did not see a restaurant. We saw continuity.

A Village That Most People Miss

Devino is not a destination that appears on most international travel itineraries. It does not possess grand monuments. It does not attract tour buses. It does not compete for attention. In many ways, it represents the Bulgaria that exists beyond the guidebooks. Quiet. Rural. Unhurried. Authentic.

Its population is small. Its pace is gentle. Its silence is profound.

To some observers, these qualities might appear limiting. To us, they appeared liberating.

Modern hospitality often gravitates toward places where attention already exists. We chose a place where attention had to be earned. That decision changed everything.

Because when guests arrive in Devino, they are not arriving by accident. They arrive intentionally. The journey becomes part of the experience. The village becomes part of the story.

The Children Who Came Before

Every old school contains invisible layers of memory. You cannot see them. You cannot measure them. Yet they remain present.

Imagine the children who once entered this building during the early decades of the twentieth century. Many would have arrived on foot. Some from neighboring farms. Others from nearby homes. Their lives were radically different from ours. No internet. No smartphones. No social media. No modern conveniences. Yet their aspirations were familiar. They came seeking opportunity. Knowledge. Possibility. A future larger than their immediate surroundings.

Those children could never have imagined a fine-dining restaurant.

Nor could they have imagined guests arriving from distant countries to dine within these walls.

And yet there is something deeply fitting about the transformation. Education and hospitality share a common purpose. Both expand perspective. Both encourage curiosity. Both invite discovery. The building continues teaching. Only the subject matter has changed.

“These walls remember more than we ever will.”

Restoration Versus Reinvention

When old buildings are restored, owners often face a temptation. Erase the past. Modernize everything. Create something entirely new.

We resisted that impulse. The objective was never to erase history. The objective was to reveal it.

The schoolhouse already possessed character. It already possessed authenticity. It already possessed meaning. Our responsibility was not to replace those qualities. Our responsibility was to preserve them.

Every restoration decision was guided by a simple question: Does this respect the building?

Not: Does this look luxurious?
Not: Will this impress visitors?
Not: Will this photograph well?

Respect came first. Everything else followed. Because true luxury begins with authenticity.

And authenticity cannot be manufactured.

Why Place Matters

The modern hospitality industry sometimes treats location as logistics. Accessibility. Visibility. Foot traffic. Convenience.

We see location differently. Place shapes identity.

A restaurant in Paris becomes part of Paris. A restaurant in Tokyo becomes part of Tokyo. A restaurant in Devino must become part of Devino.

The landscape matters. The people matter. The climate matters. The silence matters. The isolation matters. The seasons matter. Even the limitations matter. Without Devino, Dieci would not be Dieci.

The restaurant’s philosophy emerged directly from the environment surrounding it. The village did not merely host the project. The village helped create it.

“Place is not background. Place is ingredient.”

The Babas and Dyados

Every village contains a living archive. In Devino, that archive exists within its people. The Babas and Dyados. The grandmothers and grandfathers. The elders who carry stories that never appear in books. Their knowledge is practical. Seasonal. Agricultural. Human.

They understand weather patterns. Planting rhythms. Preservation methods. Local ingredients. Village history.

Many of the insights that influence Dieci originate from conversations rather than research papers. A recipe. A technique. A memory. A story. A forgotten ingredient. A local tradition.

The Babas and Dyados have become accidental collaborators. Not because they work in the restaurant. Because they help preserve the cultural ecosystem surrounding it. Their knowledge connects past and present.

Food as Preservation

One of the great paradoxes of gastronomy is that innovation often depends on memory. The most interesting ideas rarely emerge from nowhere. They emerge from reinterpretation.

At Dieci, many contemporary techniques are applied to historical foundations.

Fermentation.
Preservation.
Drying.
Curing.
Pickling.
Seasonal planning.

These practices existed long before modern gastronomy. The restaurant simply approaches them through a contemporary lens. The Bulgarian tradition of zimnina provides a perfect example. For generations, families preserved food to survive winter. Today, we preserve ingredients to capture flavor at its peak.

The motivation has changed. The wisdom remains. The schoolhouse embodies the same principle. A historical structure serving a contemporary purpose.

The future often begins with remembering.”

Why Guests Come

At first glance, the existence of a destination restaurant in a tiny village seems improbable.

Why would guests travel so far? The answer is surprisingly simple. Meaning.

The modern world offers convenience everywhere. Meaning is rarer.

Guests travel because they seek experiences that feel genuine. Specific. Human. Rooted. Memorable.

They are not merely purchasing dinner. They are participating in a narrative. The schoolhouse matters. The village matters. The producers matter. The wines matter. The journey matters.

The combination creates something impossible to replicate elsewhere. And replication is increasingly common. Authenticity remains rare.

“Some journeys are measured in meaning rather than distance.”

One Hundred Years From Now

No building lasts forever. Eventually every structure faces the same reality. Time wins.

But before that happens, buildings can accumulate remarkable lives. This schoolhouse has already lived several. Educational institution. Village gathering place. Historical landmark. Restaurant.

What comes next? We do not know. Nor should we. The future belongs to future generations.

Our responsibility is simply to care for the building during the chapter entrusted to us. To add value rather than extract it. To preserve rather than diminish. To contribute rather than consume.

If someone enters this building one hundred years from now, we hope they feel what we felt when we first discovered it. Potential. Character. Possibility.

“Every generation becomes a temporary steward.”

The Legacy We Hope To Leave

Restaurants often think about legacy in terms of awards. Recognition. Rankings. Prestige.

These things may have value. But they are temporary.

A deeper legacy exists. A restored building. A preserved tradition. A supported producer. A remembered village. A protected landscape. A guest who leaves understanding Bulgaria differently than they did before arriving.

These contributions endure. The schoolhouse taught children for decades. Today it teaches guests. Not through lectures. Through hospitality. Through food. Through wine. Through place. Through memory.

One hundred years later, the building continues fulfilling its original purpose. Helping people understand the world a little more deeply. That may be the most beautiful form of continuity imaginable.

“The lesson continues tomorrow.”