Polish Wines Make a Splash in Ireland: A New Frontier for Wine Lovers
A Wine You Didn’t See Coming…
Picture a wine glass fogged gently at the rim.
Now imagine it filled not with a familiar Bordeaux or a confident Chianti, but something unnamed. Unexpected. Cold-born and wild-hearted.
It smells like memory.
Tastes like geography.
It’s Polish. And it’s showing up on Irish shelves with the quiet insistence of something meant to be found.
This isn’t just about wine.
It’s about rebirth.
It’s about what grows when no one expects anything to.
It’s about how something soft can still speak loud.
Forgotten Roots, Fermented Dreams
Once, long before the steel gray of war and the hush of Soviet rule, Poland was a winemaking country.
Not famous for it. Not loud about it. But steady.
Vines were first planted in the 10th century by Benedictine monks, rooted in the hills of Sandomierz and Zielona Góra. They pressed juice in candle-lit cellars. They tended vines with blistered hands. By the 14th century, Polish wine flowed through noble houses, peasant tables, and sacred rituals.
But then came war.
Partition.
Occupation.
Communism.
Grapevines were torn up for grain.
Wine was deemed bourgeois.
Vodka took the throne.
By the 1980s, Polish wine was almost myth. A whisper in the soil.
But vines are patient.
And roots remember.
The Polish Renaissance (in Bottles)
After the fall of the Iron Curtain, something quietly miraculous began.
Farmers who had never grown grapes before walked their land again…this time with wine on the brain.
Some were engineers. Some bakers. Some teachers.
None of them had oenology degrees.
What they had was land.
And hope.
Wineries began to appear again…Winnica Turnau, Dom Jantoń, Don Charbielin, Srebrna Góra.
And while their first vintages were humble, something sparkled beneath the surface.
Today, Poland has more than 500 registered vineyards, and they’re not just experimenting. They’re winning awards. They’re finding rhythm.
And in 2025, some of those bottles made it across the sea to Ireland.
Why Ireland?
The Irish palate is changing. The boom in natural wine bars, wine education courses, and curious consumers has created a soft landing pad for wines that once might have been dismissed.
Enter Maggie Domaradzka and Maja Ignaczewska: two Polish-born wine professionals who saw the opportunity not just to import bottles, but to change minds.
They hosted tastings in Dublin apartments, paired Solaris with Irish goat cheese, poured sparkling Seyval Blanc beside soda bread.
They didn’t sell wine.
They shared stories.
And people started listening.
Regional Revival: A Taste of the Land
Polish wine isn’t one thing. It’s a country of many accents. Each region brings something different to the bottle.
Zielona Góra (Lubusz Voivodeship)
Known as the wine capital of Poland, this western region has sandy soils and sunny slopes. It was once part of German winemaking territory before WWII, and today, it’s reclaiming its legacy.
Think crisp whites and elegant pét-nats.
Silesia
This southern region has a touch of altitude and a lot of soul. Here, red grapes like Pinot Noir and St. Laurent thrive in mineral-rich soils left behind by ancient seabeds.
Expect forest-floor notes, black cherry, and wines that taste like autumn.
Subcarpathia
Near the Slovakian border, this highland region produces deeply aromatic wines. It’s home to tiny producers and a growing slow wine movement.
These wines hum with mountain energy: wildflower, citrus, clean air.
West Pomerania
Close to the Baltic, this region gives us wines kissed by salt and wind. Solaris thrives here, along with a few brave experiments in Chardonnay and Riesling.
It’s a coastal dream in a bottle.
The Bottles Making Noise (Quietly)
Dom Jantoń Blanc de Blancs NV
Type: Sparkling | Grape: Seyval Blanc | Price: €50
A citrus-drenched ballet of green apple, lemon zest, and minerality. Fermented in bottle. A whisper of toast from lees aging. It’s like Champagne’s thoughtful cousin who reads poetry and doesn’t post on social media.
Pair with:
Oysters, salted crisps, or quiet confidence.
Turnau Solaris 2023
Type: White | Grape: Solaris | Price: €44
Solaris is sunshine bottled. Pear, elderflower, crushed lemon balm. Bright but grounded. This wine walks the line between exuberance and discipline.
Pair with:
Herb-roasted chicken, grilled haloumi, or any lunch where you need reminding that good things are real.
Don Charbielin St. Laurent 2024
Type: Red | Grape: St. Laurent | Price: €53
A red with shadow and shimmer. Dark berries, black tea, wet stones. It opens like a confession. Complex but never showy.
Pair with:
Glazed pork, wild mushroom risotto, handwritten letters.
Vineyard Stories: People Behind the Pour
Winnica Turnau
Baniewice, West Pomerania
Started by cousins with more ambition than capital. Their Solaris is now a benchmark for Polish white wine. They believe in low-intervention winemaking, and letting the land speak.
Winnica Srebrna Góra
Just outside Kraków
A vineyard that exists because of monastic heritage. It’s nestled below a 16th-century monastery. They make Pinot Noir that tastes like candlelight and devotion.
Dom Jantoń
A family business that once sold only juice…until one son said, “Why not ferment it?”
They now make some of the most compelling sparkling wine in Poland.
The Climate Twist
Here’s the strange irony: climate change has helped Poland’s wine industry.
Where once it was too cold to ripen grapes properly, now there’s enough heat.
Enough light.
Enough frost-free days.
But this benefit comes with guilt.
Because it’s not a blessing. It’s a byproduct of destruction.
Still, the growers don’t waste it.
They work with what they’ve been given, and they don’t take it for granted.
A Sommelier’s Secret Weapon
Irish sommeliers are starting to whisper:
"Try the Solaris. Trust me."
Because these wines (especially the whites!) offer acid and structure and story.
They're food-friendly.
Budget-friendly.
And they let the sommelier shine.
You don't just drink them.
You discover them.
Other Reads You Might Like
For the Curious Collector
If you're curious about Eastern European wines, this book is filled with maps, tasting notes, and vineyard lore. A beautiful addition to any wine lover’s shelf.
Polish wines don’t come from legacy or luxury.
They come from hands that hoped.
From mistakes and frost and second chances.
And now they’re arriving in Ireland, shy but proud!!
They bring something we didn’t know we were missing:
A sense of newness.
A reminder that wine is still allowed to surprise us.
So the next time you see a label with a name you can’t pronounce, don’t skip it.
Pick it up.
It might not be familiar.
But it might become unforgettable.
