June, in the Langhe, is the month when every day seems to change the face of the vineyard rows: it is the perfect time to rediscover a few words from the Piedmontese dialect that still colour the days of those who live and work the land.
At the beginning of the year, we talked about January and February among pruning, reflections and ancient trades in dialect, while in spring we followed the rebirth of the vineyard through shoots and first blossoms. June marks an important transition: the vine stops being merely a promise and begins to become structure, direction, destiny. This month, too, we take you with us into the vineyard, to discover vineyard work, updates and… plenty of curiosities about the Piedmontese language!
The Piedmontese dialect between courtyard, family and vineyards
Talking about dialect in 2026 may almost seem like an old-fashioned whim, something anachronistic and folkloric, capable of bringing a smile to those who read or listen: some expressions have sounds that, perhaps, to an untrained ear, may seem almost funny.
And yet, not so long ago, in our countryside, this was the language of everyday life: Italian — unlike today — was the language “for outsiders”, to be used only when someone foresto, a stranger, arrived. In those moments, people would make an effort to adapt, mixing words and hybrid constructions, with a few hesitations and a few mistakes. It was the arrival of television that encouraged the spread of Italian as the national language, used in everyday life, while at the same time marking the gradual abandonment of dialect, which was sometimes undervalued and considered “unsuitable” for daily communication. 
June in the vineyard: rapulin, paluc, bric
June in the vineyard is a month of intense work and careful observation. Vegetative growth accelerates impatiently: the shoots stretch from evening to morning, as if the night itself were not enough to contain them. The rapulin — the small grape clusters grow before our eyes, numerous and promising, the first outline of a future bunch, from which our wine will originate.
At the paluc — the end post of the vineyard row the roses bloom, imprecise yet much-loved indicators of the vineyard’s health, offering at a glance a sense of how the season is progressing. On the hills of the Langhe, the rows on the bric — the hilltop enjoy a privileged exposure: the sun arrives earlier and lingers longer, while the air remains a little cooler.
The rain and fioca — snow that fell abundantly in the first months of the year have left us with water-rich soil, ready to sustain growth: it is precisely from this delicate balance that the typical feeling of June in the vineyard is born. The season has taken shape, but it has not yet been fully written. 
Dolcetto (duset) and the character of the hills
At the top of the bric lies our Dolcetto, one of the grape varieties that best expresses the landscape of the Langhe and the relationship between vineyards and hills. Legend has it that the name comes from duset, meaning “small rise”, referring to those gentle undulations that make the hills seem drawn rather than sculpted.
Others believe the name evokes a sensation more than a place: a sweetness that is not sugary, but one of character, drinkability, and gentle roundness, which for generations has been attributed to this wine, the prince of mealtime pairings in homes and osterias.
An uncertain origin but, perhaps precisely for this reason, even more fascinating, and one to be discussed together, while enjoying the coolness of the first summer evenings and sipping a good glass of our Dolcetto.
June vineyard work: cingolo, sapel, causagna
June in the vineyard is also the time for secondary tasks, those that often go unnoticed but make a difference to the quality of the grapes. Armed with a tracked tractor, one crosses the sapel — the small drainage channel that runs at the bottom of the courtyard — and climbs along the causagna — the headland, that narrow path that both separates and connects the vineyards, until reaching the top of the bric.
By June, flowering has either finished or is coming to an end, and the vineyard enters the fruit set phase, in which not all flowers will become grape clusters: it is a silent, almost invisible, yet decisive moment. Much of the grapes’ destiny is decided right now, while the plant, in great secrecy, chooses where to invest its energy, encouraging — or discouraging — the growth of one small cluster at the expense of another.
Our work in the vineyard focuses mainly on sucker removal, shoot management and controlling vegetation, allowing the rapulin to grow in balance, well-ventilated and protected. Only in this way can they grow into large, juicy and healthy bunches. 
Saint John, herbs, giuanin and the heart of summer
Finally, taking a look at the farming calendar and its festivities, we remember the celebration of Saint John at the end of the month: a recurrence made of bonfires and herbs gathered during the night, the result of ancient beliefs and stories — these too, more often than not, handed down in dialect. According to popular belief, in fact, it is traditional to gather a mix of herbs at sunset on 23 June, then leave them to macerate in a basin of water outdoors throughout the night. Exposed to the moon and the dew, the water becomes “charged” with magical virtues and can then be used on the morning of 24 June to wash the face and hands, as a sign of purification, health and good fortune.
Because June, in the Langhe, is never just a month: it is a passage, a bridge between the promise of spring and the fullness of the summer to come. And while the vineyard rows close into a dense, continuous green and the work among the vines becomes more precise day after day, those observing from afar already know that the season has entered its most vital phase and that the real work has only just begun.