It’s my first stop in Sicily, and it quickly becomes apparent that this is not at all what I imagined when I conjured up images of the island. We’re staying at Barone di Villagrande, a venerable wine estate on the eastern flank of Mount Etna, with its own special plot of vineyard overlooking Sicily’s eastern coastline at the bottom of the land sloping away before us. So far so good. But it’s raining softly, there is a cool breeze, and the heights of Mount Etna behind us are covered in thick clouds. Fog rolls up from the coastal plain. The landscape is lush and vividly green. I can’t help thinking that I’m back in Vancouver, weather-wise.

It turns out that this is my first lesson in understanding the unique terroir that is Etna. Talking to Villagrande owner Marco Nicolosi, the 10th generation of his family to farm these lands, I learn that, as he puts it “Etna is not Sicily, it is an island. And Sicily is not an island, it’s a continent.” The point he is making is that Etna has its own distinctive climate, very different from the rest of the island. It is much cooler up here on these black lava slopes than the rest of Sicily, and it receives far more rain than other regions. This is especially true of the mountain’s eastern slope, as the rain comes from the southeast, driven by the Sirocco wind from Africa, which picks up moisture passing over the Mediterranean Sea and then condenses as rain as it hits the flanks of Europe’s tallest active volcano.

The resulting wines these vineyards produce are simply exhilarating: fresh, elegant, with lower alcohol, bracing acidity and a ‘cool’ minerality – Etna’s distinctive calling cards. In fact, after tasting my way through Marco’s wine lineup,  including a sublimely complex, evolved Legno di Conzo Etna Bianco Superiore from 2011, I discern an uncanny similarity to the wines of Burgundy. These taut, linear, cool climate wines are the antithesis of the full-bodied, burly wines you will find across the rest of Sicily,  especially Nero D’Avola from the baking southern regions.

The other thing to note right from the get-go is that Etna has its own unique grape varietals: Carricante for the whites and Nerello Mascelese for the reds (along with softer Nerello Cappuccio which, when vinted on its own, is even more Burgundy-like, if that’s possible).

So, a unique volcanic terroir + a particular climate + locally-adapted native grapes = unique wines. That’s the Etna DOC formula in a nutshell. And speaking of which, under no circumstances miss the distinctive cuisine this region has developed using local ingredients, including Italy’s most prized pistachio nuts from the village of Bronte on Etna’s western slope. Pistachios are used widely in the local cuisine. Our dinner at Quatro Archi osteria in nearby Milo the next night includes a delicious pasta dish of papardelle con pistachio ragu. A bottle of I Vigneri Vinupetra Etna Rosso 2014 made by Etna’s wine guru Salvo Foti is sublime – all forest floor, black berry fruits and ethereal, haunting perfumed layers. Does that sound familiar at all? Yup, there’s the Burgundy reference again.

A stay at the gracious, beautifully sited and elegantly appointed Barone di Villagrande estate provides the loveliest of introductions to this mysterious corner of the island. Just don’t call it Sicily, at least not in front of Marco. And don’t bank on using the infinity pool that overlooks the amphitheatre of 50 year old Carricante vines, unless it’s high summer.