Article by Adam H. Callaghan | Photography by Adam H. Callaghan and Jonathan Gobbi | Published February 6, 2025
In the middle of dinner at Oukan, a Japanese-inspired vegan fine-dining restaurant in Berlin, the sommelier brings out shallow, bone-white bowls filled about halfway with brilliant magenta liquid, a striking contrast to the dark and moody setting inspired by Buddhist monasteries. He displays a bottle of wine for consideration: Cinque Campi Fuorleggero, an elegant, fruity pét-nat rosé Lambrusco, Italy’s famous sparkling red wine made from a grape of the same name. The presentation is intriguing in its unfamiliarity. Why the bowl?
A Versatile Vessel
Cup your hands to catch some water from the faucet. That shape, says Jonathan Gobbi, who studied sculpture before getting into wine, is likely what inspired the humble bowl. Combining simplicity, durability, and the versatility to hold food and drink, the earthenware bowl predates the cup, let alone the wine glass, and would once have been a standard serving vessel for beverages, especially for anyone who couldn’t afford a dinner set with specialized functions.
The ample opening of a bowl also means our lips are shaped differently than when we drink from a glass. “This allows, for example, more air inside our mouth, which helps the flavors to open up,” Gobbi says. And unlike, say, raising a Champagne flute, whose narrow opening limits olfactory interplay, “already in the moment of bringing the bowl to our mouth all the perfumes are generously coming to our nose.”
As Oukan’s wine director, Gobbi appreciates the chance to surprise diners with this tradition from his birthplace. He grew up near the western edge of Emilia-Romagna. The only region allowed to produce Lambrusco stretches from his hometown of Piacenza to the Adriatic Sea. Gobbi first encountered the practice of drinking wine from a bowl as a kid, going with his grandfather to an osteria, a casual neighborhood restaurant focusing on wine with some basic food like pasta and cured meat with bread. His grandfather would gather with friends to chat, play cards, and drink wine from a bowl.
The bowl — which has different names in different dialects: “scudlein” in Piacenza and “fojeta” in Parma — was simple white ceramic, much like the cups Japanese masters use to judge green tea so as not to muddy the color of the liquor. The wine bowls were relatively thick and broad, close to five inches across, unlike those delicate tea cups. “Typically, you would hold it with three fingers on the lower part, the index finger around the side, and the thumb grabbing the border and partially inside,” Gobbi says. “Often, the end of the thumb will touch the wine and get stained in red. It’s mandatory to suck it afterward to not waste any precious drop.”
He’s seen a similar custom in Normandy, a part of France famous for its hard cider — like Lambrusco, Cidre de Normandie is a sparkling wine that’s pretty simple and straightforward, low in alcohol, and rooted in the region’s tradition. The bowl seems like the perfect tool for such a situation. “If you are working in the fields, it doesn’t matter if you are harvesting grapes or picking apples; you want your wine fresh and easy, and the risk of breaking a glass is too high,” he says. So you use a bowl.
Wine and Soup Belong Together
In Emilia-Romagna, the wine served in a bowl doesn’t have to be Lambrusco, but it often is, given that Lambrusco is the regional wine. It also goes great with soup — not only alongside it, but in it.
At the osteria, Gobbi saw his grandfather and others adding wine to their soup, sometimes a splash, sometimes a generous pour. It would usually be a rich, clear broth made from vegetables and meats like beef and chicken, served with a kind of ravioli made of egg dough filled with slow-cooked beef stew. Known as “Anolini in brodo,” this dish is a beloved staple of Sunday dinner and festive occasions like Christmas. A dry, tannic Lambrusco adds a grippy texture to the liquid, “and at the same time, it’s a good pairing for the meaty filling,” Gobbi explains. Modena, also in Emilia-Romagna, refers to a similar technique as “bevr’in vin,” where a bit of tortelli or broth is served in a bowl with wine.
While the practice never died out entirely in Emilia-Romagna as it did in many places, it faded over time, especially during the 1990s and 2000s, Gobbi says, giving way to glassware when everyone wanted to be seen as fancy and international rather than rustic and provincial. In recent years, however, the wine bowl has made a comeback, driven by a growing desire to preserve the local culture and celebrate traditions. Gobbi has stumbled upon it at restaurants such as Osteria d'una Volta in the heart of Piacenza, which serves wine in plain white bowls with a stubby base alongside typical local cuisine. There’s something “primitive, simple, and beautiful” about using a bowl this way, Gobbi says. Whether at a cozy osteria in Italy or a chic dinner destination in Berlin, “It’s somehow warm.”
