Antiquity's white survivor. Fiano is plausibly the apianum of the Roman authors — the "bees' grape", its flesh so sweet the hives besieged the harvest — and its name and home have scarcely moved in two millennia: the hills of Campania, above all around Avellino.
Its low yields nearly killed it. In the twentieth century growers abandoned it wholesale for more productive vines, and it survived in the hazelnut hills of Irpinia as scattered old plots until a handful of houses replanted it in earnest. Modern Fiano di Avellino justifies the rescue: hazelnut, pear, honey and a thread of smoke over a mineral spine — one of the few whites of southern Italy that genuinely improves across a decade in bottle.