Before embarking on my recent trip to Campania, I asked the well-known wine and food journalist, Luciano Pignataro, for some recommendations on interesting little wineries to visit. He replied with a list of about five or six. Three of them were under the heading of Fortunato Sebastiano, a consulting winemaker who comes from the upland zone around Nola and Avellino.
Right away I'll stop the more cynical and hard-bitten among you from dismissing him with, "Oh great, another 'oenologist' who's contributing to the dumbing down and homogenization of Italian wine."
Fortunato isn't one of those winemakers. I admit he has a bit of a rock star quality, but he's the antithesis of the self-involved, rather pompous consulente that you find all too often. He is an upbeat guy who cares deeply about his clients, all of whom are small and far from wealthy, and about the kinds of wines they are able to produce in their respective terroirs.
I would characterize Fortunato and his clients as collaborative artists. Art requires a deep cognitive knowledge of one's tools and medium. It also requires a capacity for surprise and joy. These qualities we found in a number of the wines Fortunato introduced us to.
We spent all of one day and parts of two others with him; on the full day alone he drove us something like 400 kilometers from one part of Campania to another, and I had guilty thoughts at the amount of money he was spending on gas. Together we tasted wines from three of his eight producers, one of which is the fine and well-established Mustilli, who hired him recently to raise their level of quality with his precise touch. The wines we tasted were all clean, clear and highly typical of their varieties. With just one of two exceptions (producer experiments), they were admirably balanced and persistent.
We were particularly wowed by the wines of two producers who live among their small land holdings at high elevations (translation: fucking cold, well over 2000 feet up) in the Greco di Tufo and Aglianico di Taurasi DOCG zones. Their annual production ranges from a few thousand to perhaps 20,000 bottles. Wisely, under Fortunato's direction, they are focused in what they produce. No spumantes or passitos here.
The first stop was the so-called Angela Rosa winery, perched high on a steep mountainside in the
Greco di Tufo zone. I say "so-called" because the nickname of the family is "Angela Rosa", which comes from the name of a female relative (grandmother?). In that particular area families pass down the name of the female matriarch to identify the family; the legal surname is something else entirely. In this case, the farmer who runs the small holding is named Nunzio. I have no idea what his "real" last name is. If you call him Nunzio Angela Rosa, you'll be OK and he won't mind at all.
The Angela Rosa family. Not your baronial winemakers, and a good thing that is
Back to the wines.
In a word: stunning.
There we were, sitting in a freezing dining room open to the chilly breezes and breathtaking views of the vineyards below, drinking tank samples of the new vintage, starting with Falanghina (Campania IGT, 14%), Fiano D'Avellino (DOCG, 13.8%) and Greco di Tufo (DOCG, 13.5%). The Falanghina was good -- roundish, strong, loaded with citrus and pineapple notes, dry and crisp with no sugary droop at the end -- but the Fiano was better and the Greco di Tufo was extraordinary. We sampled the Greco di Tufo 2006, which was already sold out, and it was naturally rounder and more balanced than the tank sample. Lovely stuff. The liveliness and cleanness of these wines were exhilarating. They were centered. They had a clear identity. They were of the place. They couldn't have come from anywhere but here.
The Angela Rosas make a couple of Aglianicos, of which the barrel sample 2007 Taurasi DOCG was already impressive (released in 2010). But the real, exciting story here was with the whites. At prices that would be competitive in New York, these classic Campanian whites were far more satisfying than the big-name wineries' versions, which have been internationalized over the past few years -- too much sugar on the finish, introduction of wood in some form, etc.
I guess the critical test is this: would I spend my own money on these wines? Yes. Would I reorder them? Yes. Would I take them to my host's for dinner? Yes.
*****
After this wonderful tasting we drove and drove to another farm in a slightly less frigid area. We stopped at a compound where several generations of the Boccella family live in close proximity. This setup seems novel to me, but it's common in the Italian countryside, of course. Raffaele Boccella is the winemaker of the family, and on his few hectares he grows Aglianico plus a tad of Fiano. The story here is red.
Boccella's Aglianicos are beautiful. We tasted the Irpinia DOC versions (2007 barrel sample, 14.5%), the soon-to-be-bottled 2006 (14.5%) and the 2005 (13.5%). These unfiltered wines are powerful, tannic, and deep purple in color. The oak was well handled, adding the desired roundness and hint of depths. Strong as they were, the wines didn't seem excessively hot. I suspect they'd retail in New York for about $15 if they were available.
By the way, this one is called "Rasott", meaning "down there" [down the hill] in the local dialect. Luciano Pignataro reviewed it enthusiastically last spring. He called it "the farmer's Aglianico" for all the right reasons.
The Boccella masterpiece was their Aglianico di Taurasi DOCG (2006 to be released in 2010 and 2005 to be released in March). Each of these wines exhibits a complex set of aromas and flavors. Cloves, black pepper, earthiness, a long finish of black cherries -- a clean, pure finish with no hint of off tastes or scents. If you're skeptical about the flavors and perfume of "organic" wine, this will change your mind.
After tasting these wines, we drank. And drank. And ate. And ate. We sat there for roughly five hours while the women of the family cooked foods that came from the property, from the home-made pasta to the tomato sauce to the salads to the various cuts of pork and the free-range chicken. Everything fresh and organic and sumptuous. Despite the very hard work these people have to put into what they eat, they live in a kind of luxury.
The Boccella males -- Raffaele at left
This may be at odds with what I wrote earlier, that Fortunato's clients are far from wealthy. Their quality of life is very high, yet there is considerable sacrifice in achieving it. Raffaele, for example, works as a long-distance trucker to help hold things together. His brother Giovanni works as a lighting engineer for theatrical productions. Everyone contributes.
Aside from the real quality these wines show, it's good to appreciate them in terms of what their makers put into them. This is something that Fortunato's assistance enhances and does not destroy.


I want to go on an Italian farm and have someone style me out! And I also want Fortunato's number... purrrrr.
You want to live the simple life, huh? Complete the American fantasy of the yeoman farmer. I'll start a farm with you if you cook.
Posted by: Lisa Qiu | December 22, 2007 at 12:11 PM
Lisaqiu, I don't want to live the simple life--they tried that on The Good Neighbours in the 70s and it didn't work, even though they had Penelope Keith and Felicity Kendall. Oh never mind, you're too damned young.
I can't cook either. Toast, maybe.
I can give you Fortunato's number. I think he still lives at home, like most youngish people over there, so be careful of the mother.
Posted by: Terry Hughes | December 22, 2007 at 04:02 PM
News flash: Fortunato tells me he has been living on his own for 8 months now.
The real name of Nunzio Angelarosa (spelled as one word) is AURISICCHIO.
Thank you, Fortunato.
Posted by: Terry Hughes | December 22, 2007 at 05:06 PM
Wait, he's wearing a wedding ring in that pic?
I knew that handsome man wasn't a mamosi.
Posted by: Lisa Qiu | December 22, 2007 at 11:07 PM
What great encounters with these farmer artisans of great wines! these people and their efforts of course fall into our romantic american notions of the good, simple clean life (as Lisa points out) who (as you say) attain a sort of luxury in the rewards of their land and hard work. Such authenticity is irresistible. and the wines do sound wonderful. lucky you!
Posted by: fredric koeppel | December 23, 2007 at 10:57 AM
I do feel very lucky to have met those people, tasted their wines and glimpsed into their world for just a while. There are others too, on whom I will report soon.
Right now I have to say that I'm sleeping a lot and taking advantage of the long holiday weekend to recover from all the traveling and feasting...Lent begins early this year!
Posted by: Terry Hughes | December 23, 2007 at 11:10 AM