In Rajac, close to Negotin in eastern Serbia, traditional wine cellars – known as ‘pivnica’ – are integral to local wine culture and heritage. Thanks to a new Association, Mladi sa Rajačkih pivnica, their future is in safe hands.
By Ian Bancroft
Down the bunches slide, gravity doing its work, onto a conveyor belt where they would be sorted by hand. The soft landing maintains the integrity of each grape, ensuring their insides aren’t exposed to the elements. It is a therapeutic process for the winemaker and the onlooker, a patient but necessary first step.
Here in Rajac, close to Negotin in eastern Serbia, traditional wine cellars – known as ‘pivnica’ – are integral to local wine culture and heritage. There are some two hundred stone houses, most boasting a wine cellar.
Thanks to a new Association, Mladi sa Rajačkih pivnica (which translates as ‘Young People for Rajac’s Pivnica’), their future is in safe hands. Jelena (pivnica Zagorac), Marko (Tenuta Est), Smiljana (vinarija Raj), Nemanja (pivnica Butke) i Kristina (vinarija Dalia), the brains and inspiration behind the Association, speak with one voice. ‘We were inspired by the pivnice themselves and the fact that they remained forgotten and left to the ravages of time’, the Association tells me, adding that, ‘our region has been a wine-growing area for generations, and in the last few years the tradition has begun to die out’.

Photograph: Filip Paraskević
Negotinska Krajina is one of Serbia’s most prized wine regions, with a heritage stretching back to Roman times. The pivnice were constructed at the beginning of the 19th century on Beli brega, above the village of Rajac, a village that the Association describes as the only one ‘in Serbia that was built as if only wine lived there.’
Many refer to them as ‘pimnice’ as opposed to ‘pivnice’, as the latter can also refer to a place where beer is brewed. Furthermore, locals often ‘butchered’ the letters ‘v’ and ‘m’ was often ‘butchered’, to use the Association’s terminology, adding to the confusion. But the Association insists that those referring to them as ‘pimnice’ are wrong, that ‘the original name is with a V.’
‘The pivnice were built from sandstone that the locals quarried from around the village’, the Association explains, ‘every house in the village built its own pivnice on the hill’. Their purpose was clear – ‘the preservation, production, and storage of wine’. Their uniqueness is such that they have long been a considered a candidate for UNESCO World Heritage Status.

Photography: Branislav Nenin
The pivnice’s golden age was during phylloxera, which devastated vineyards throughout Europe. Winemakers searching for an area similar to Bordeaux eventually stumbled upon the unaffected region of Negotin. ‘They found themselves in the cellars of Rajac, paying for 50-litre barrel of wine with a Napoleon ducat’, the collective memory of the Association recalls, describing it as a ‘prosperity that hasn’t been repeated to this day’.
That it is young people demonstrating such initiative may come as a surprise to some, until you hear the strong sense of place that guides their philosophy and approach. ‘We grew up with wine and vineyards, it was natural for us to feel the need and duty to do something to preserve them from oblivion, and at the same time use the enormous potential of the terroir’, the members of Mladi sa Rajačkih pivnica reflect.
Even though many pivnice have been abandoned or converted, a number still exist today. And even if they ‘do not fulfill their primary purpose today, they stand as a cultural monument of a people’, the Association insists. For the Association and its members, preserving such cultural monuments is deemed essential for upholding the identity and culture of the country and its people. In their case, it is ‘the identity of the people from whom they came’ that they fear losing. ‘Young people must know their origin’, they conclude.
For these are more than simply constructs, they are places of purpose and meaning. A sense of tradition imbues each and every stone. It is an atmosphere of authenticity conducive to wine drinking. In such spaces, I have tried in the company of good friends bottles that rarely tasted the same when opened back in Belgrade.

Photograph: Branislav Nenin
The pivnice have a renewed purpose thanks to Mladi sa Rajačkih pivnica’s commitment to winemaking, with the redevelopment of viticulture in eastern Serbia one of their primary objectives. ‘Young people are here to continue viticulture, the art of winemaking, and the preservation of the beerhouses themselves’, they declare unequivocally.
Developing sustainable vineyards can provide livelihoods in what they term ‘a somewhat forgotten part of Serbia’. Mladi sa Rajačkih pivnica plan to plant as many vineyards as possible focusing on local forgotten varieties. ‘Dr. Miroslav Nikolić from the University of Belgrade, a native of Rajački pivnice, is currently doing very interesting research related to the old domestic variety Prokupac, in cooperation with the faculty of Rioja, where they made fascinating discoveries’, they tell me with contagious excitement. Research is also being undertaken into other unique varieties such as Bagrina, Crna Tamjanika, and Začinjka.
They are experimenting with new and old approaches to winemaking, including, ‘champagneization, petnats, carbonic, and crazy blends’. They have playful and artistic labels, and are open to collaboration with other winemakers.
‘The idea is also to attract more young people to engage in viticulture and winemaking, organic production, and also to export wines in order to represent our region and abroad’, they conclude. It is a vision that is both tangible and realistic. As much of Serbia’s cultural heritage is left to decay, the example of Mladi sa Rajačkih pivnica is one to which others will hopefully aspire.
Ian Bancroft is a writer based in the Balkans. He is the author of a novel, ‘Luka‘, and a work of non-fiction, ‘Dragon’s Teeth – Tales from North Kosovo‘. Follow Ian on Twitter @bancroftian.




