mondosapore

9 Aglianici di Salerno

Most of the big guns in Aglianico are aziende whose vineyards are inland and upland -- especially in the rugged zone known as Irpinia, which encompasses most of Avellino province and parts Benevento.

The Province of Salerno isn't exactly a viticultural wasteland, either, and the critical and popular success -- "popular" as in ka-ching ka-ching -- of wineries like De Conciliis prove that Aglianico has a full and happy life outside the Taurasi hills, thank you very much.

I've written before that the coastal and inland typologies of Aglianico (and other Campanian varieties) are both distinct and valid.  The nine I tasted just a while ago are clearly of the coastal typology -- generally softer, less hard and tannic at the outset, and gorgeous with fresh red fruit scents and flavors.  Within today's selection, of course, there were wide variations, which is hardly surprising given the fact that this province covers fully the entire southern half of Campania.  It's a big and varied area.  

Before I share my meagre tasting notes with you, I must remark again how wonderful it is to see young people -- still in their 20s -- heading up the wineries.  Maybe Daddy or Mummy owns the joint, but young Chiara or Francesco runs the show.  Even though Italy seems to be lousy with oldsters leaning on canes as they hobble up steep declivities, a high proportion of young people are taking over wine.  Perhaps more down here in the Mezzogiorno because the old guard hasn't the same stranglehold as in more evolved regions to the North.  There are new things under the sun.

  

 

I can't bear these crowds: Aglianico tasting, ably led by a lonesome Maria Sarnataro, a newly minted sommelier.

There were more producers here than anyone.

The good, the very good and the bland.

Sorry for not editing.  You want it fast or you want it good, huh?

1. DE CONCILIIS DONNALUNGA 2007

 Strong black cherry perfume and taste, dark ruby color, a layer of oak that's not too intrusive.  Suave and modern.  Commercial but not a sell-out, know what I mean?

2. BARONE PIETRALENA 2008

Understandably still closed, this wine promises to be a knockout.  Lovely acidity, lots of brightness, a little luscious than the De Conciliis but it will, possibly, become easier to drink through a long meal.

3. CARMINE BOTTI 2004

A bit of the lusciousness of #1, very good structure, same DOC as Bruno De C's wine, as you can easily tell.  What a difference some age makes.  Very long and nuanced finish.  The young lady from the azienda joined Maria and spoke about the wine.  She was impressive as was the wine.

4. ANTONIA RIZZO FIIX 2007

Very peppery, "nervous."  Lovely bright red fruit tastes.  Also plum notes as the wine opened.  Most individual character so far.  Very long finish.  Barriques but second passage.  Wood comes on a bit after a while, although it's never excessive.  Good stuff.

Party nite in Alphabet City

Click to get the illustrated summary of a balls-out tasting on Avenue C last night...

Sediment? I love it!

I know that some people see sediment in their wine glass and go "eek!"  I know that welcoming sediment in your glass (if not your mouth) is somehow rather old-school. 

Well, what the hell, I'm old-school.  I'm old, so of course I'm old-school.  A couple of my favorite Domenico Selections, er, selections throw quite a lot of sediment.  One is Reale's Cardamone 2006 and the other is Boccella's Rasott Aglianico 2006, which has only recently started to throw a sediment.  ("Son, you are now a man."  A sort of vinous bar-mitzvah, eh.)

So, we have established that I like sediment in me vino.

Here's part of what is written about sediment in the Oxford Companion to Wine:

Sediments in bottled wines are relatively rare, and usually signal a fine wine that has already spent some years in bottle. So unaccustomed have modern wine consumers become to sediment that many (erroneously) view it as a fault. Many winemakers therefore take great pains to ensure, through clarification, stabilization, and filtration, that the great majority of wines made today, and virtually all of those designed to be drunk within their first few years, will remain free of sediment for at least a few years. Wines designed for long periods of bottle ageing, on the other hand, frequently deposit crystals of tartrates, white in white wines and dyed red or black in red wines. Red wines, in addition, deposit some pigmented tannins that are the result of phenolic polymerization. The heavy deposits in bottles of vintage port are a particularly dramatic example of this phenomenon. Winemakers deliberately leave more tartrates and phenolics in wines designed for long ageing in bottle so that they are able to develop the compounds that constitute bouquet. A bottle of wine containing sediment needs special care before serving.

(Gay color emphasis mine.)

OK, I've prejudiced the discussion.  

Still, what is your Position on sediment in your wine?  Inquirin' minds wanna know.

   

Vinitaly, days 1 & 2

The old soldier has risen from his bed of pain and staggered forth with his merry band on days 1 & 2 of the Grande Fiera del vino.  It's been a very busy and highly productive fair so far, despite the wretched health of your 'umble servant.

I've another appointment in a few minutes so will keep the commentary, and also the "witticisms," to a minimum.  I'll let the pix speak for themselves, mostly.



 Aristide & Lizzy plotting world marketing domination at the press room












Sandro Cavicchioli, enologo of the fantastically alive Francesco Bellei spumanti and Lambrubscos

















One of several stunning wines made from the Sorbara grape




















Italo Sobrino Cascina delle Rose of the Asti zone.  Serious Barberas and Barbarescos. 

















Italo's hand and some of his wines.  The hand of his wife, Giovanna Rizzolio, is evident in these elegant wines as well.

Report: Today's Gambero Rosso Tre Bicchieri Event in New York, NY

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Supercrowded as always.  Some producers had either run out of wine or left their table by 6:30, several even sooner.  I got the impression they were saving themselves for Vinitaly.

I was there for the press briefing at 3.  There were fewer print journalists than usual and more bloggers.  The main benefits: no waiting in line and a first shot at the wines.

As usual, many more reds than whites had been awarded Tre Bicchieri.  The whites that I tasted seemed to have a narrow range of flavors and textures, as if one person had done all the tasting/judging.  Not true, of course, but it struck me that way.  There was far more diversity among the reds with regard to types and flavor profiles.

Last year I focused on the South.  This year, the North.  With of course a few in between, especially Abruzzo e Marche.

In truth I went less to taste than to observe and schmooze.  I saw a number of the usual suspects -- writers/bloggers like Koeppel (OK, so he's an accredited print journalist too), Italian Wine Guy, East Village Wine Geek, Dr. Vino and the contrarian Alice Feiring.  IWG asked me to taste a wine that Alice liked very much, one of the few.  Too barnyardy for me, ergo right up Alice's alley.

I chatted with some interesting and very engaging producers, including Stefano Illuminati, Ruggero Brunori (a neighbor of the Trevisanis and a good friend of the irrepressible Adriano Liloni), and the elegant, beautiful Elisabetta Foradori, whose Teroldegos I admire.  She said, "I put all my passion into my wines."  I replied, "It shows."  The wines mirror their maker; she looked and spoke as I would have expected after drinking her wines.

SECOND IMPRESSIONS

Accordini Il Fornetto 2000

Verona, August 2006

It seems like a hundred years ago, my first trip to Verona and my first encounters with people who are now my fast friends in the wine world, like Elisabetta Tosi and Giampiero Nadali.  It was a trip and an encounter that actually did change my life.

One of the most memorable and pleasurable of my wine encounters back in August 2006 was a visit to the Stefano Accordini winery.  Guided by Lizzy (Elisabetta's nom de bloggeuse) we met Daniele Accordini, one of Stefano's sons, who is the winemaker.  (Later, at Merano, we met his brother Tiziano, who manages the winery and handles marketing.)

The Accordini operation is quite small and very typical of the best artisanal wineries in Italy:  family-owned and run, with each decision taken requiring the all-out support and work of the members of the family. 

I mention all this because last night we finally drank a bottle of Il Fornetto Amarone 2000 that we bought at the cantina that seemingly long-ago August.  We had dinner with Ken's sister and brother-in-law, with whom we shared part of our month-long stroll through Italy that summer. 

But before I share with you our impressions of the "Il Fornetto" crû that was not, I confess, stored in optimal conditions, let me republish the original post of that visit with Daniele, who has also been the oenologist for the Valpolicella "cantina sociale" (co-op), which has produced some exceptional wines under his aegis.  I have added new comments and notes, which appear in brackets [ ]. 

Pedemonte (VR), Monday, August 14

Valpolicella. 

Quick, what do you think of?  Chances are, you think of an insipid light red wine from Bolla.  Or you may confuse it with its even more insipid cousin, Bardolino. 

Yet the Valpolicella region of Veneto, in the Northeast of Italy, has been transforming itself no less than the wine-making areas of southern Italy.  Recioto, the traditional dessert wine of the area, gave rise to the potent Amarone, and Amarone gave rise to Ripasso (a cheaper, morefood-friendly version of itself).  At the same time, the increased attention to quality has led to the planting of vineyards higher and higher into the hills and mountains around the valley, with lower yields and Guyot vine-training to bring the quality improvements home. 

This reinvention has been a necessity for the reasons all too familiar with the Italian wine scene: thousands of small to medium sized producers, a staggering variety of grapes and styles -- and a maze of labels and names that's hard for Italians to understand, let alone a wine retailer in Wisconsin or a consumer in Connecticut.

The variety of wine types and names is a double-edged sword, a marketing nightmare but a dream for people like me who love to explore "new" producers and discover great wines.  After all, as Aristide tells the people we meet in the cantine that we visit, "Terry Hughes è l'ambasciatore del vino italiano in America." (Your humble servant is the ambassador of Italian wine in America.)  Well, I do what I can.  It's a task that I've assumed with passion and a sense of long-term commitment.

Anyway, as your diplomatic presence in Valpolicella, ladies and gentlemen of the United States, I am happy to report on a most extraordinary find today, not three miles from where I am typing out this post, overlooking the valley and the mountains of this renascent denominazione di origine controllata. 

Thanks to Lizzy and Giampiero, we met with Daniele Accordini of the Azienda Agricola Stefano Accordini for what was supposed to be a brief tour and tasting.  Almost three hours later, during which time Daniele's son was repeatedly sent by his mother to find out exactly when his father was coming to pranzo (the big meal of the day, just as it was in America when I were a wee lad), we had run through seven wines, including a barrique tasting of the 2004 Amarone (an experiment with American oak!).

Daniele, the winemaker or enologo, and his brother Tiziano run the firm now.  Their total annual production is about 60,000 bottles [which is more or less the maximum a small family-run outfit can make].  This makes them a respectable player in Italy, artisanal in nature but commercially viable, which is apparent in the use of expensive new French barriques and their own bottling facility.  This Accordini firm (there are several in the area with the same surname) has a healthy export market to the US (especially California and New York), Russia, Norway, Switzerland, Belgium and Japan. 

Daniele talked at length about his firm's push for improved quality as expressed in -- what else -- terroir.  They began with land in the valley, have gradually moved up into the hillsides and are now acquiring more land in the nearby mountains.  The 2004 Amarone that we barrel-tested came from a new vineyard at 500 meters.  Of course, yields are lower up there, but the vines are less subject to botrytis (not the good kind, as he explained).  And as everywhere, Accordini is moving from tendone to the Guyot discipline of vines.  Lower yields, higher quality fruit.  [Raisined fruit was not a problem in the rainy 2008 season but may have been in previous years, though altitude and cooler nights should have minimized the problem].

I won't spend time transcribing notes or describing impressions of all the wines we tasted; suffice to say that it was the full range of wines from the region, from a basic and rather acidic Valpolicella Classico to Ripasso and so on up to two levels of Amarone.  I'm going right to the top wine, their cru (Il Fornetto), the firm's "super-Amarone."  If Amarone in general is the economic salvation of Valpolicella -- as it should be at US retail prices of at least $50-60 and up, way up -- then Accordini's Il Fornetto is an apotheosis. 

As with all Amarones, this one hit the nose with characteristic but unusually intense coffee and chocolate aromas.  At 16% it seemed a little too at first.  Overwhelming.  But with time, as it opened up, every sniff and taste revealed new flavors, new depths, more smoothness.  Raspberry.  Anise, a little.  Cherry, of course.  A thought I even detected a hint of mint, although I didn't want to say so aloud.  However it opened up in perfume and flavor, it was always rich, concentrated, powerful yet balanced.

I wish I were the exquisite tasting writer that Frederic Koeppel is, because he would have been able to write a precise sort of rhapsody about this wine.  I can tell you that all of us were stunned by its intensity and depth, its long long finish and its ability to develop in glass.  As we drove back to Lizzy's house, she told us that Daniele Accordini is known and respected locally for his consistency and high quality Amarone, even in difficult years.  In really bad years, of course, he doesn't make an Amarone at all.  He is also the president of the local cantina sociale (co-op) and of the regional association of winemakers.  With all those commitments, it's no wonder that, as Lizzy said, "His wife is a saint."

What food would best go with a wine of this power and character? 

The food of good conversation with friends.  As Daniele himself said, "This is a wine fuori pasto -- outside of meals -- for friends to share slowly and talk about.  A vino di conversazione."  I'd have to agree.  For a terrific food wine, I'd pick his "Passo", a ripasso, over his other Amarone.  The Passo has some of the same characteristics of a full-blown Amarone but at about a quarter the price.  (12 euros vs. 60 euros for Il Fornetto and 25 euros for the "basic" Amarone at the cantina; double those figures for retail sales in Italy.  God knows what they are in the States.) [I've seen most bottles of Il Fornetto priced at about $200 in the New York area.]

...Il Fornetto was a strikingly individual wine of great character.  Unforgettable and unique...

How many Italian varieties have you tasted? (Redux)

A year ago I wrote:  How many Italian varieties have you tasted?

At that time I was able to list 85 without too much trouble.  Your comments, dear readers, added several more.  I added a few myself even without your valued input:

Rossese
Sylvaner
Muller-Thurgau
Pinot grigio
Teroldego
Frappato

Which brought the total to 91. (Deletion of "Roero," a sloppy error pointed out by David Rodriguez, brought it to 90.)

Here were your adds (the ones which I had actually tasted):

Ciliegiolo
Zibbibo
Carricante
Erbaluce
Ruche'
Grecanico
Cortese
Rebo
Tocai friulano
Moscato giallo

That nets out to 100. 

But wait -- there's more!

Since the original post last March, these are grapes I tried for the first time:

At that time I was able to list 85 without too much trouble.  Your comments, dear readers, added several more.  I added a few myself even without your valued input:

Rossese
Sylvaner
Muller-Thurgau
Pinot grigio
Teroldego
Frappato

Which brought the total to 91. (Deletion of "Roero," a sloppy error pointed out by David Rodriguez, brought it to 90.)

Here were your adds (the ones which I had actually tasted):

Ciliegiolo
Zibbibo
Carricante
Erbaluce
Ruche'
Grecanico
Cortese
Rebo
Tocai friulano
Moscato giallo

That nets out to 100. 

But wait -- there's more!

Since the original post last March, these are grapes I tried for the first time:

Read this

.

High in the Avellino hills. Near Santa Paolina

I've said it many times, Fredric Koeppel writes the best wine reviews, anywhere.  Period.

I'm delighted to report that he's turned his precise yet sensuous writing style to some of the Campanian gems from Domenico Selections on his widely read site, Bigger Than Your Head.

Here is the article:  click here, damn it!

Le variazioni

Yesterday's Amarone lunch, featuring Sandro Boscaini of Masi, was pleasant and informative.  I sat with Tyler Colman, aka Dr. Vino, and we had a good chat about one thing and another.  As ever, Tyler took copious notes.  As ever, I took none. 

I have mixed feelings about many of the Amarones that were open at the tasting.  The wildly varying styles and organoleptic profiles served to restrict the very name of Amarone to a technical term, restricted, that is, to a specific methodology of appassimento (partially drying grapes for greater concentration), attracting a small amount of botrytis, rendering the first pressing of said grapes into the must that will be named Amarone, etc., etc.  Any mutual resemblance was quite absent.  Many of the wines were indistinguishable from ripasso (second pressing of said grapes), or in some thin acidic instances, from a rather full-bodied Valpolicella Classico. 

 

Photo from Veronissima

Boscaini diplomatically, as his playful title "Mr. Amarone" required, criticized the relentless expansion of the Amarone zone and production levels* over the years as well as the impossibile explosion of alleged ripassos, which simply could not be produced in such large numbers if they were legitimate second pressings. 

The other thing that struck me was the rhapsodic way in which a number of attendees were describing -- and heartily drinking -- the older Amarones available to us (back to 1972).  Maybe I'm just a slob or a barbarian, but I found many of those older wines to be distinctly underwhelming.  Tired, rather flabby.  I much preferred the newer ones, whether from 2004 or 2001 -- at least they had some life to them in the form of a balanced acidity and fruitiness.  And they actually complemented the food, which yesterday consisted of a polenta, a fowl risotto and other hearty cold-weather plates.  The younger wines' acidity balanced out the rich heaviness of the yummy grub. 

But I never cease to be amazed by the cult -- no, the fetish -- of the old in wine, especially in Italian wine.  Italy is the country where people drink even the big reds quite young, and, you know, "bring on the tannins."       

* In the linked article posted by Jeremy Parzen, Franco Ziliani shows no such restraint.

Domenico Selections Website: Live at Last!

Domenico Selections dot com.

We asked for something simple, clean, functional.  With a warm, sunny look.  Suggesting Mediterranean light and vitality.  Free of red-white-and-green clichés.

Yes, we do have the useful traditional map of Italy with clickable regions where we have producers.  Short but sweet regional intros - not the standard boilerplate, either, but a personal viewpoint based on our experiences and observations.  Ditto the producer profiles.  Short, factual wine spec sheets.

And watch this site grow. More producers are on the way.

Still missing: the Muddy Boots blog.  Soon, kids, soon.  And the listing of where you can find the wine, mainly because this is in flux. 

Bookmark this link.

Baci per May Matta-Aliah, who designed the Domenico Selections corporate identity program as well as the site.  She is the owner of Red-Dot-Solutions here in New York. 

Strappo, whore of self-promotion

As if you hadn't suffered enough, you have two opportunities in the next two days to encounter Strappo in the more or less real world.

Photo: Strappo in a sniffing pose.

Spectacular event numero 1:

Pouring at Frankly Wines, 66 West Broadway, in warm and sunny Tribeca.  Strappo will be on hand to pour a couple of his authentic yet absurdly inexpensive wines from 5:30 to 7:30 tomorrow -- Friday evening.  The lovely and talented Christy Frank will chaperone.

Spectacular event numero 2:

Strappo will dispense his usual "wit" and wine "humor" with the easily inebriated Jon Krasney and Gorgeous (aka Heather) on WMTR-AM somewhere in North Jersey.  (All I know is, it's a long long walk from the subway.)  The show is "Krasney on Everything Financial", 9:30 - 10:30 am.  WMTR is at 1250 on your low-tech AM dial.

Monday's tasting: 4 out of 5 ain't bad

This past Monday Jeff Mazen and I tasted a raft of wines from five Italian producers.  The producers, some of whom have been represented in the United States in the past, ranged from Piemonte to Emilia-Romagna, Campania to Sardinia.  We very much liked the Piedmontese wines, about which I've written little or nothing.  Sad to say, we were again underwhelmed by the Sardinians. 

A very pleasing discovery was Cascine delle Rose, a small, organic winery in the commune of Barbaresco.  Their total production is only 18,000 bottles -- 1500 cases -- per year.  Cascina delle Rose (which I translate as "Rose Farm") makes five wines:  a Dolcetto DOC; a Langhe Nebbiolo DOC; two Barberas, one a cru, both DOCs; and a Barbaresco DOCG.  Actually, I was given this lead some months ago by Doug Cook, the polymath behind the best wine search engine anywhere, AbleGrape.  Giovanna Rizzolio and her family are good friends of his; in fact, they'll be visiting Doug on a tour of the US late this month. 

I see roses

The Barbera that we opened was a bad bottle.  It wasn't corked but it was wooly-tasting and made me wonder if all the wines were similarly flawed. Fortunately, no.  The two others we had were lovely.

The Dolcetto d'Alba 2006 (13.5%) had an earthy, cherry-scented nose, and these characteristics carried seamlessly over to the flavor.  It was clean and balanced, neither thin nor bitter on the finish as so many Dolcettos can be. Depth and complexity, development in the glass.  This struck me as an elegant Dolcetto -- an adjective that doesn't always modify "Dolcetto." At a franco cantina (ex-cellar) price of 4.35 euros, I estimate that it would run about $18 - $20 retail here.  Not the cheapest or the most expensive Dolcetto but definitely top-rank. As Jeff exclaimed on re-tasting a few hours after the first sip, "It's got everything!"

The Cascina delle Rose Barbaresco 2004 (14%) was a cru from the Rio Sordo ("Deaf Creek") vineyard.  The first thing that struck us about it was its almost brick-orange color.  Gorgeous.  The nose was complex and so interesting you could spend 15 minutes happily just sniffing the aromas of earth, wood berries both red and dark purple, and that suggestion of tar and spring flowers.  After a few hours it had opened up quite a bit and menthol notes came through.  The 2004 vintage was a marvelous one, and this Barbaresco was delicious corroboration.  Fine stuff.  At an ex-cellar price of 14.35 euros, I'd guess it would retail for something like $40 - 45 in the New York area with sufficient discounting by the producer.  The wine tasted sassy, young, and it will no doubt improve for at least five years. 

Paolo Conterno was the other Piedmontese vineyard whose wines we tasted on Monday. 

Conternos are thick on the ground in that part of the world, but over here Paolo Conterno isn't one of the wineries you

Tasting dinner good. Wines not good.

When I visit my daughter at Thanksgiving or Christmas, I like to take her to a nice place for dinner.  One of the few places that's open on such days down in Richmond, Virginia, is the Hotel Jefferson.  It's quite an  example of fin-de-siècle opulence in a city that an Italian reviewer of a Patricia Cornwell mystery once termed opulenta ma provinciale.  How wise of our reviewer.

The first time we went to the Jefferson for Christmas dinner, just two years ago, the menu was exciting and innovative and the wine list imaginative.  It included a couple of Virginia wines which, I think are the best made in the eastern United States, or at least they give New York State a hell of a run for their money.

Calamine lotion a flaw?

Briefly, I must ask a perplexed question. 

Is the scent of calamine lotion a flaw in a wine?

Let me explain.

A producer in Piemonte sent a couple of samples.  I opened the Dolcetto last night and sipped it at opening and at intervals, with dinner too, for several hours.  The wine's depth and character were powerfully evident.  It was intriguing.  But I was slightly put off by a whiff of calamine lotion, a smell that dissipated somewhat over the course of the evening.  I just uncorked the bottle, and it remains.  It seems integral to the fruit, which is bluely berry-y, to coin a lovely phrase.  Odd.

Now, granted, this impression could be and probably is due to a personal quirk or the fact that I haven't felt too well since yesterday afternoon.  Perhaps a little gastrite, as they'd say in Italy. 

What I'd like to know is: does this particular aroma occur to anyone else when tasting and drinking wine? 

And if not, how much time have I got left?

Quickie: Paolo Conterno "La Ginestra" Barolo, 1997

I had been hearing about Paolo Conterno's Barolos and other wines for a while.  In fact, they were highly recommended by Jo Cooke of Wine Spectator, whom I met at a great party near Grosseto with Gianpaolo Paglia back in September.  I tracked down a bottle of Paolo Conterno's non-Riserva Barolo, La Ginestra, at De Vino this week.  Here's a brief diary of what I found.

My Daily Wine

"A foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds."  -- Emerson

Emerson.  Big drinker

When I read about the wines that a lot of blogging buddies drink, I feel sick with envy. Expensive, old-vintage, storied wines -- they drink them every day, or so it seems.  My daily wine experience is a tad different, I assure you.

I'm always casting about for reasonably priced and reasonably good wines that won't break the bank. In this I'm a lot more like Dr. Debs ("Good Wine Under $20") than Jeremy Parzen ("Do Bianchi") or Doug Cook ("Able Grape"). Jeremy and Doug seem to drink sensational wines with depressing frequency.

The situation, for me, is a little more complicated than it used to be.  Now that "my" wines are at long last about to land in the US, I feel that looking on the shelves for "good Italian wines under $20" would be an act of betrayal, or sheer stupidity.  I love these wines and expect to buy a good amount of them for household consumption...at cost -- that's the law, and we'll need our samples to be used as samples. 

Plus, you know, one needs a break every now and then.  My break from Italy is usually wine from France.

To my mind France provides some of the best bargains in wine, especially red wine.  The price/quality ratio can be superb.  And though I like the tannic wines of the southwest, the ones we agree on at home are from the Rhone Valley. 

Lately we've been drinking three that range from good to very good.  Two retail for about $12-13 locally, the other for around $10.  Even in somewhat straitened circumstances you can afford them by the case.

Belleruche is a good basic Cotes-du-Rhone made by M. Chapoutier.  It's a 50/50 Grenache/Syrah, and the 2006 stands at a strong 14%.  A pleasant drink that is harmonious and fragrant when you open the bottle, although it tends to fall apart after an hour or two.  Imported by Terlato. 

Very good value is found in Les Abeilles, a CDR from Jean-Luc Colombo.  The producer's web site informs us that the grapes are "Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre.  Old vines, minimum 25 years."  Tasty and not too manipulated for a wine that sells for about $10.  Imported by Domaine Select.

Then there's the CDR from the celebrated Eric Guigal.  His base 2004 CDR offers sensational quality for the price ($11.99 at the none too cheap shop across the street).  Excellent fruit, weight, balance and sheer drinkability at 13%. We bought half a case for a birthday dinner party a few nights ago, and it was a big hit.  This is about as close to a no-brainer for an everyday red as you'll find.  Imported by Classic Wine Imports.

Memorability

Sometimes you drink a wine that rivets your attention as you drink it.  It opens you up to new possibilities not only of taste and character but of a region or a grape.  Or, in this case, a blend of grapes. A blend of some grapes, indeed, which I have recently scorned.  (Love it, folks: me hoisted on me own petard.)

I first had this wine just about a year ago at the urging of Gabrio Tosti of De Vino on the Lower East Side.  I loved it and wrote about it on these hallowed digital pages. 

I've had it several times since then, and each time I've been impressed by the wine's depth and complexity -- at a moderate price.  It also does a fair amount to rehabilitate the lowly reputation of wine from Latium, which is too often identified only with the inconsequential wines of Frascati in the trattorias of Rome.

Further, a friend had a big birthday a few month ago and with Gabrio's help I put together an all-Italian wine list for the party.  This white was a big part of the order, and I hear it was a very big hit with the guests -- people who are usually, I think, more comfortable with French wine than with Italian.

This wine is composed of a blend of 50% Verdicchio, 25% Trebbiano Toscano and 25% Grechetto.  It has just 12.5% alcohol, which makes the wine mild and easy to drink on its own or with food; and it has a specially deep, almost nutty flavour that calls to mind the Arbois gems of Jacques Puffeney. The colour is correspondingly deep and golden, and perhaps a tad cloudy.  The farm is run on organic principles, with the wine's seeing minimal sulphur or filtration.  This is as far from an "international" or standardized wine as you can imagine.  At the same time, I do not believe that it's an acquired taste, as my friends' responses told me.

Any guesses as to the identity of this wine?  I did post something about it. 

Hint: the son of a very well-regarded winemaker from central Italy is the enologo behind this one.  Bravo!

I blurt

The greatest thing about "owning" a wine blog is that you can really blurt and bltch about anything you want.  People can stay away in droves, or they can comment and be either supportive or violently hostile -- fine, whatever.  As you will.  Sirrah.

As you may discern, I've drunk un pochino this eventide. I guess the dead giveaway is "this eventide."  But I care not a fart, as Chaucer wrote, and I shall begin by telling you that I had a few of my favorite summer drinkies before dinner, Gosling's rum and tonic with a whole lot of lime squeezed in.  Refreshing and intoxicating.  (We need to expunge the wine & spirits world of the temperance/connoisseur thing and admit we like to get a good buzz going.  Wot?)

Next, with dinner and, yes, a bit before, I had an interesting Greco di Tufo DOCG.  This one is from one of the big dogs in Campania -- Mastroberadino, their Nova Serra 2005.  Note the year.  I bought the bottle across the street ($22.99), where the sun strikes all afternoon and the shop's temperature must hover at 100F.  Not a great vintage, and not a nouveau one either.  Yet the savory deliciousness of this bottle hints at the age-worthiness of this wonderful grape.  No matter that this slightly aged wine is a bit oxidized (not that there's anything wrong with that -- some of my favorite whites are oxidized). 

Indeed, this fine white displays all the usual virtues of a Greco di Tufo (my favorite white grape from Campania) -- a wonderful balance of fruit and acidity, a lively tinge of spiciness on the tongue.  In short, it's a wine that I call "compulsively drinkable."  Which means a) that it's very good and b) I'm not sharing this bottle with anybody.

I'm still drinking it.  Nice.  Very very nice. 

And by the way, they haven't dumbed this Greco down for the export market like Feudi di San Gregorio has done. More power to you, Mastroberardino.

Steinerism at work

I think the philosophy, if that's what it is, of Rudolf Steiner is, as they say hereabouts, is meshuganah. But how you explain the excellent results of one of Steiner's most ardent and incomprehensible disciples, Nicolas Joly?

Joly, as purloined from Wine & Spirits.  I think he's saying, "Alors, mon gosse, I can't deal with an Aries."

I don't.  I shan't pretend to.  I am not up to the task.  I am, in fact, unworthy.

Yet I am indebted to the king of chiming tasting notes, Fredric Koeppel, for leaving me a bottle of Joly's Coulee de Serrant 2000 (13.5%, 100% Chenin Blanc, official grape of Chenonceau) in my fridge while he used this fallow apartment a couple of months ago.  We had the wine with a pork loin, roasted simply with some rosemary and served with sweet corn -- and it was wonderful, especially complimenting the pork with the deep, layered sensations of anise and ginger and violets and all the savors of the earth, no doubt including those famous buried cow horns. Astor Wines talks about pear and such in the 2002 -- and it costs 80 bux.  Eeyah!  The 2000 seems to me to be no fruit salad.  Something altogether more complex and deeper and more darkly mysterious.  More, please.

I am drinking the remaining vapors of the bottle e'en as I type.  I want more, so much more of this elixir.  Lovely, lovely.  Mishigass or not.

Sweet oregano: Wine surprise in Friuli

I met Marco Sara at the Terroir Vino event in Genoa, was impressed by his three dessert wines, and was eager to visit him and his family at their place in Friuli.  I headed up there this past Wednesday and toured his vineyards, saw something of the very pretty area north of Udine, and met Sandra and Pietro, Marco's wife and two-year-old son.  I also met Marco's cousin, his mother, Sandra's mother -- it's that kind of place.

Sandra and Marco at a cafe in San Daniele, prosciuttoville.  Young as they are, they've been together forever and seem like an old married couple.  A happy one, amazingly enough.

I also tasted and retasted the wines.  I'll publish some detailed notes before too long, but I thought I'd treat you to a few pictures and overview comments first.

Marco currently has about 5 hectares, 12-13 acres, of land.  Some of it, including a plot that he believes has huge potential for his sweet wines, is being prepared for planting in the spring.  His holdings, piecemeal like so many in Italy, acquired plot by plot, are between about 125 and 300 metres in elevation.  The soils tend to be argillous-calcareous, the better to hold the moisture on very steep hillsides facing SE to SW as well as provide a basic minerality that is needed in a good dessert wine.

Marco told that this Friuli is the dampest part of Italy.  I can well believe that, since the oppressive humidity we experienced in his area was on the level of New York in August.  In this environment, where the day may start clear but clouds up by afternoon or evening, the noble rot (botrytis) can take hold in especially muggy seasons, like this one.  The best sweet wines of Friuli do indeed benefit from noble rot, including some of Marco's.  Savorgnano, the little town where he lives, is at one of the northernmost wine-producing zones in the region.  A bit farther north and all you see are cornfields -- Friuli is as corny as Kansas. 

Marco at new planting area.  The terraces have been there since the 1950s.  He uses native grape varieties -- Tocai Friulano, Picolit and Verduzzo.  He is adding Riesling to enhance the Tocai's acidity in future vintages.

The humid weather this year has created some problems for the vines.  Still, Sara uses only copper and sulfur, in as small amounts as feasible, to fight mold.  Anti-hail netting is essential here. The one good thing about having scattered plots of land is that a hail storm won't wipe you out; the hail is usually too localized to damage an entire zone.

Marco, who speaks the local dialect more readily than he speaks Italian, has named all three of his wines in Friulian.  In ascending levels of quality and price, and descending production quantities, they are