Barel Winery

Chris Vannoy
5 days ago
5 min read

A Meadow Memory: Rediscovering Barel Winery and the Charm of Barel Winehouse

Barel Vineyard and Wine House / Bag Evi

It was late summer of 2022 when I first steered my car off the main highway from Istanbul and down a rural road that curled away from the Marmara Sea. What awaited me was not just a winery, but an experience—one that quietly shaped how I would come to think about Turkish chateau-style estates. Barel Winery and its Bag Evi (Winehouse) restaurant marked one of my earliest visits to a vineyard where wine, food, and setting fused into something more lasting than just an afternoon’s pleasure.

Arriving at the Winehouse Hidden in a Meadow

From the moment I parked the car, I thought hmmmm this is unique. You don’t walk straight into Barel; you descend. From the lot, a gentle slope leads downward into a cool, green meadow flanked by trees and vines. At the bottom lies the Bag Evi—an open-air restaurant surrounded by nature, where tables are shaded by leafy canopies, and the breeze carries both the scent of grilled lamb and the whisper of sea air. This descent into the landscape—literal and emotional—set the tone.

The setting is pastoral but precise. There’s a cultivated order to the grounds, yet nothing feels forced. The atmosphere is genuinely relaxed, ideal for long lunches and generous pours. It was here I first tasted how a well-run wine estate could welcome guests not only with glasses of Syrah or Montepulciano but also with notable food in an outdoor orchard-like stillness.

Barel Winery Rooted in Proximity and Possibility

Barel Winery is the closest estate-style winery-restaurant to Istanbul, nestled in the hills outside Karaevli and edging toward Tekirdağ, though it doesn’t quite reach that more famous wine corridor. This geographic position is quietly strategic. At just 70 to 90 meters elevation, Barel benefits from a mix of influences: the tempering proximity of the Marmara Sea, a relatively cool winter that grants the vines dormancy, and a warm summer that allows for gradual ripening but protected from overheating by Marmara breezes.

The soil is a complex patchwork—calciferous and loamy with pockets of clay—offering structure and drainage, particularly favorable to red varieties with long maturation cycles. While not mountainous, the gentle rise above sea level provides enough elevation to delay harvest and deepen phenolic development in the grapes, a crucial factor for age-worthy reds.

Barel Winery's Portfolio with Personality

Wine bottle with a white label displaying "Domaine Borel," "reserve," and grape varieties. Elegant design with a brown wax seal.

What stood out to me then—and remains notable now—is the breadth and depth of Barel’s varietals and blending programs. This is not a one-grape winery. Instead, Barel experiments and refines with a boldness rarely seen in such proximity to Istanbul.

Their Syrah Reserve stands tall with 12 months of aging in both French and American oak, clocking in at 14% alcohol and showing impressive structure and spiced depth. The 10th Anniversary Syrah Reserve, a special edition from over 20-year-old vines, goes a step further—aged 14 months and limited to just 580 bottles, it’s a collector’s bottle that is at the top.

But Barel is not only about Syrah. The Rapiska, an assertive blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah aged 12 months in French and American oak, caught my attention on that first visit for its finesse. A wine with bold tannins but integrated acidity, it walked the line between Old World restraint and New World ripeness.

Similarly, the Lima (Cabernet Sauvignon, 13.5% alcohol, French oak-aged for a year) offered a more classic Bordeaux profile, with blackcurrant, cedar, and a firm yet drinkable structure. Both wines were later recognized by Turkey’s Sommelier Selection—testament to their balanced and considered winemaking.

One of the more surprising wines was Gunn—a Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah blend aged eight months in Hungarian oak and grown at 90 meters elevation. With 14% alcohol, it was punchy but smooth, and like the others, it benefited from oak aging that was confident but not overbearing.

Wine bottle with a purple and white label reading "Lima" and "Bairrada" in elegant script, showcasing an ornate border design.

Then there is the rare pleasure of Gamay—a grape scarcely seen in Turkish vineyards. Barel is among the few producers exploring its potential, it is a welcome departure from the more commonly grown varietals. The novelty of tasting Turkish Gamay in the shade of an Anatolian vineyard underscores Barel’s spirit of experimentation.

For those drawn to Italian varietals, the Montepulciano & Sangiovese blend offers something unique: 13% alcohol, aged 6 months in French oak. The wine shows the plummy, leathery notes of Montepulciano rounded out by Sangiovese’s acidity. It’s a reminder that Turkish terroir is capable of accommodating varietals beyond the French palate. Yet, I think Barel is more successful with their French varieties.

Barel's Aged Ambitions

Oak aging at Barel is not an afterthought—it’s a philosophy. Unlike many boutique Turkish producers who stick to a single cooperage style, Barel experiments broadly with French, American, and Hungarian oak. Each imparts a different character—French oak gives finesse and spice, American brings bolder vanillin sweetness and coconut, and Hungarian offers a midpoint of warmth and structure.

They offer both a Reserve series and a more accessible standard line, allowing for layered expressions of the same varietals. Their Cabernet Franc, aged in Hungarian oak for 12 months at just 12.5% alcohol, is another standout for those who appreciate a leaner, greener edge in their reds, and another example of why this grape seems especially well suited to Turkey.

Their Merlot is also worth mentioning—13% alcohol, aged 10 months in both French and Hungarian oak. It’s plush but not flabby, balancing red fruit with earth tones in a way that invites pairing with food. Likely benefitting from the clay soils.

Barel Winery's Whites and Rosé

Though reds dominate their portfolio, Barel’s whites should not be overlooked. The Fumé Blanc, aged six months in oak, carries a rich mouthfeel, while still holding onto its herbal, citrus core. Their Chardonnay (12% alcohol) is crisp and clean—more French than California, but well-suited to Turkish mezze tables.

As for rosé, the Barrel Vineyards Rosé, which struck a balance between floral and fruit, with enough acid to stay crisp even on a warm spring day.

The Table Beside Barel's Vines

Of course, wine alone is not why Barel has remained in my memory. The food at the Bag

Evi restaurant was—and continues to be—a revelation. Nice food served at tables overlooking vines made for a holistic tasting experience. The ingredients were local, the execution refined but not fussy. Each dish elevated the wines, and the wines, in turn, gave depth to the dishes.

The restaurant setting enhances Barel’s identity: a winery that is as much about pleasure and setting as it is about technical viticulture. It offers something rare—a complete, immersive experience just an hour from Istanbul.

I’ve since visited dozens of Turkish wineries, but Barel was memorable. It wasn’t just the wine, or the food, or the setting—it was the way they all converged to signal that Turkey’s wine potential was deeper and more ambitious than many realize.

Their commitment to multiple varietals, diverse oak aging programs, and a restaurant with notable food make Barel both a serious wine destination and a place of joyful return. It is a place where memories are fermented as carefully as the wine itself—one where every sip takes me back to that meadow descent, that shaded table, that late summer afternoon that started it all.