Christopher Terrell would like to broaden San Franciscans’ knowledge of the Republic of Georgia, the tiny Caucasus nation that found itself in a disastrous war with Russia this summer. This former Soviet republic, Terrell will tell you, can claim to be “the cradle of wine”—perhaps the first patch of earth on which man fermented grapes, some 8,000 years ago. He will also tell you that the Georgians, having shaken free of the infamous Soviet Five-Year Plans that stressed quantity over quality, are making some very good wine these days.

Terrell, a 28-year-old entrepreneur, wandered across Georgia a few years ago to learn about the country’s wines. He dodged men with guns, hung out with locals, and fell in love with Georgia’s wine country, a geography of rolling hills and staked-out vines every bit as lush as Napa’s, but with far less traffic. Back in San Francisco, he perceived a market (you can find Georgian wine only at a few delis out in the Richmond), so he’s building buzz for his first two locally distributed wines, a white made from the rkatsiteli grape (akin to pinot grigio), and a red made from saperavi, a tannin-heavy varietal that most closely resembles malbec.

So far, so good: The Marina’s Bin38 wine bar, the Biondivino wine boutique in Russian Hill, and Oakland’s À Côté restaurant now carry Terrell’s wines. (Eventually, he also plans to open a winery in Georgia.) Of course, it can be difficult for a newcomer to gain traction in the wine-saturated Bay Area market, but Terrell isn’t worried. As he puts it, “You go into a restaurant and try to sell them another Australian shiraz, and they’ll say, ‘There’s nothing new here.’ But Georgian wine comes with a story.”