Mavrotragano — μαύρο, black; τραγανό, crisp — takes its name from the firm, crisp texture of its tiny, thick-skinned berries. It is native to Santorini, the drowned volcano of the southern Cyclades, where vines have been worked for some three and a half thousand years.
For most of the twentieth century it was a footnote: a few scattered, half-forgotten rows among the island's famous white Assyrtiko, too shy-yielding and difficult to bother with. By the 1990s it had dwindled to a near-relic. Its return is recent and deliberate — the work of a small circle of Santorini growers, above all Paris Sigalas and Haridimos Hatzidakis, who recognised one of Greece's most serious red grapes and replanted it vine by vine.
Today Mavrotragano is scarce by nature and prized by design: low-yielding, deeply pigmented, built to age, and made in genuinely small lots. It has become a benchmark for what indigenous Greek reds can be.