.
BY MATTHEW STOWELL
On Theodoros Fikardos’ first day in the army, back in 1976, an officer asked if anyone was interested in attending confectionary school. The young conscript’s hand shot up.
“Why?” demanded the officer, suspecting a shirker from scruffier duties.
“Because when I finish the army I want to start my own confectionary business. I’ve worked in a confectioner’s since I was twelve, and …”. Before the boy could complete his sentence he was dispensed to a hotel for training.
At that point, it was unlikely that Theodoros had ever heard the word ‘entrepreneur’, but it was the beginning of his career and a foreshadowing of the self-starter spirit that would eventually lead to his ascendancy as one of the most successful independent winemakers in Cyprus.
True to his word, just a few days after completing his national service, Theodoros found, bought and opened his own confectionary. The success of this sweets shop led to his opening a restaurant, Leonardo, and the success of the restaurant—along with his propitious marriage to Ellie, whose family had a few grape vines—led to his single-minded venture into winemaking.
Cypriots are well known for their entrepreneurial talents and savvy business skills, but Theodoros is an anomaly in that he accomplished much of his success without the advantage of family inheritance or government assistance. It has been his straightforward pluck and sincerity that have helped him turn the slimmest of opportunities to his advantage. He’ll be the first to tell you that for the past 24 years he has benefited enormously from the unflagging inspirational and pragmatic support of his wife Ellie, but if there is a Cypriot businessman who is a better embodiment of the Nike slogan, “Just do it”, we haven’t met him. Example: when Theodoros decided to take the plunge into winemaking on a large scale, he didn’t run out and buy a half dozen giant fermentation tanks. He worked up a design, bought huge sheets of stainless steel, hired a welder and built them himself! “I was crazy then,” he laughs. “I wanted to do everything.” Yes, he was crazy—crazy like a fox. At production figures of 250,000 bottles a year, he’s still using those tanks today, though he has since added much state-of-the-art equipment from Italy and Greece.
Meeting Theodoros in person is a lesson in humility. You feel immediately he’s a straight shooter. Contrary to what one so often finds in successful chiefs of industry, there is no swaggering façade of self-importance. You won’t hear him speak about money or boast about the value of his business or acquisitions. He is a simple, honest man of Cyprus with a passion for what he does and a healthy curiosity not only about wine and food but for life in general.
While he was a restaurateur he began to appreciate and learn about wine. He talked to knowledgeable customers, professional gourmets as well as winemakers about the distinctive qualities of various wines. In France, Italy and Greece he further educated himself as he visited vineyards and wine merchants, tasting and gathering information along the way. He also bought some how-to books on the subject to familiarise himself with the purely technical aspects. By the time he decided to make his first barrel, using grapes from wife Ellie’s land, he had a clear idea of what he wanted. Although he considered himself a mere hobbyist, his first effort turned out quite well—at least friends and family told him so—and the enthusiastic reception encouraged him to make more. The next year he made three barrels. And in the process, he made an important discovery: he had always enjoyed the creative end of kitchen and restaurant work, but he found that making wine was something he truly loved. He also discovered that he was good at it.
In 1990 he and Ellie produced 15,000 bottles of Mavro, Mataro and Xinisteri. Some winemakers—the Kyriakides brothers at Vasilikon come to mind—find success and contentment by concentrating on two or three wines only. Theodoros, however, has an active curiosity and wants to try everything. If it doesn’t work—like the Reisling he experimented with then abandoned—he leaves it and tries something else. Presently, he is making 15 to 17 different labels; even he isn’t certain of the number. His main concern, in addition to keeping consumer cost at an affordable level, is to offer a wine for every taste. As he sees it, his job is to satisfy the customer, and if the majority of customers prefer a wine that is less oaky, less complex and therefore easier to drink, that is what he will make. He used to mature his Shiraz, Lefkada and Maratheftiko in oak for a full 16 months. Now, responding to the public’s demand for younger reds with less tannin, he barrels them for eight to 12 months only. He also employs a “free-running” method in which the wine in progress is not forced and bruised as it moves between stages of the process. The resulting wine has a cleaner taste that better expresses the pure essence of the grape.
For his range of white wines, Theodoros aspires to bring out the clear, crisp flavour of the fruit and the terroir, or character of the land, that produced it. He’s not trying for complexity in his Xinisteri and Chardonnay. They should go down easy, without any rough edges, but you should always be aware of the distinctive qualities of each blossom harvest.
At present, the grapes in Fikardos wines are from growers in the Tsada/Kallepia region. However, land has been purchased in Pano Arodes in the Laona area, and Theodoros hopes to start cultivating his own vines there and to build a new winery as well.
That is, if he doesn’t build a rocket ship first.
