Forget the usual suspects. Jima is proof that serious Greek wine doesn’t need a postcard address. Panos Tzimas runs the show — DipWSET, chemist, teacher, and the kind of guy who prunes his vines by hand and still has energy to experiment in the cellar.

The vineyards are split between Arta’s heavy clays, Zitsa’s old Debina and Vlachiko slopes, and a wild 7-hectare plot up in Konitsa where snowmelt cools the vines until late spring. Different soils, different altitudes, one obsession: keep things clean. No chemicals, no shortcuts. Just biodiversity, cover crops, and old-school hard work.

In the cellar Panos is restless. Stainless steel for precision, amphora for texture, oak when it matters, long macerations if the fruit can take it. Every wine is a numbered “Day” project — limited, unpredictable, impossible to confuse with anyone else’s.

And through all that, there’s a thread: Panos’s own class. Calm, precise, never loud — and his wines carry the same quiet authority.