The word "importante" in the Italian wine lexicon

As I wrote earlier today, the Barbera 2010 confab is generating a lot of press that its creators never thought possible, or at least likely. No doubt the assumption was: 

Well, blogging is in. We have to have bloggers. We're hip and with it, after all. It'll be a cinch. The regular American wine press are such pushovers, and in exchange for the all the free stuff and the chance to swan about il Bel Paese, they write the nicest things about our wines. Just think what these nerds from the sticks will write! 

It must have seemed what, in the 80s, was called a win-win-win. I mean, if you get three wins, how can you lose? Right?

As wine-market historians will long note, this event was when It All Changed. For now we know for sure that wine writers may indeed bite the hand that feeds them.  

I can't help it. The Schadenfreude is too delicious. I must savor it. 

Now to the announced topic: Importante

In a post by Saignee, the word important was bandied about quite a bit in a heated confrontation between the bloggers and the producers of the Barbera d'Asti appellation. Saignee's post began with:

What is an “important” wine? Does history and culture deem a wine “important” by the simple fact that a wine is tied to the land and the people that make it? Or is a wine “important” because it is massive, tannic, structured, “bold?”
Yesterday at the barbera meeting we attended two events where the conception of importance was central to the debate that seems to define this event.

Later in this near-brawl:

And then someone asked the question point blank. “Why are you doing this to these wines? Why is there so much wood? Where is the acid, where is the beautiful simplicity of barbera? Are you going so far as to add tannins to these wines?
What can only be described as a shouting match broke out. A sore spot had been touched. These are structured, elegant wines, important wines, the producers protested. 

"Important." I hear about "important" wines from producers all the time, in which case the word is code for "an overpriced, overoaked, overconcentrated mess that was concocted for you wine barbarians in America."  Imagine their outrage when we tell them, "Actually, this isn't your best wine. It's obviously created for the American market, but the market's flooded with such wines. Why would we want to bring them in to fight for shelf space against Argentina, Chile and every other low-priced producing country?"

"But we used only the best new French barriques!"

"I'm sorry. You should have saved your money. We prefer the wine you made in the tank. It actually tastes like it came from here."

And so on. 

Whether the word "important" is meant to delude us or is a form of self-delusion, I won't try to discern. Maybe it's a bit of both. Certainly the desperation of throwing the word "important" around is all too clear. They do it with big, clunky bottles -- "And here our cru is in an important bottle --"

"Why is the bottle important?"

"Well, you see, it's so big and imposing -- so thick. Like for an important wine. Like Burgundy!"

"No one in America cares. Anyway, how long will this wine improve?"

"At least four or five years!"

"Not like a Burgundy. Buy a cheap bottle and put your money in the wine, please."

In the case of fracas in Astilandia, the producers are acknowledging that their traditional wine styles aren't important, that they are destined to be also-rans in the great wine olympiad -- the Jamaican bobsled team of Piemontese wine. You can easily imagine their dark thoughts: "There they are over in Barolo and Alba, raking in the dough with their big-name juice and celebrated terroir, and what have we got? Bupkas! And I spent 60 cents for each bottle!"

It must gall them on the best of days. But on the day of the bloggers it must have shattered many a carefully built house of mirrors. 

The truth will set you free, boys. If you choose to heed it.

 

Comments

[cory cartwright]

It has been an intersting week, to be sure. I'm not sure that anyone was expecting what has happened so far.

My post today, however, is on a winemaker i really dug, so it isn't all negative.

[fredric koeppel]

Strappo, thanks for these posts about the "Barbera 7" and our efforts toward honesty in blogging and honesty in winemaking.

[Strappo]

You guys have called it as you've found it. The good, the bad and, clearly, lots of ugly.

This sort of honest reportage would never have seen the light of day without i bloggher.

Jeremy, you've found your true metier in this whole Barbera 2010 communal-blogging setup. Bravissimo.

[marco raimondi]

I was going to suggest "Barbera" as one of the three (and of course, there are only three, right?) "Noble" grapes of Italy; as luck would have it, it is instead "un vino importante!"

So nowadays, I pass on the $17 Barbera & the $18 Dolcetto & the $15 Valpolicella and reach for the elegant, traditionally made $9 Rioja Crianza, which is neither "importante" nor "Noble" but mighty tasty for the bux!

Buona fortuna....

[Strappo]

Barbera? Really? It's OK but not all that.

You'll be happy to know that producers' prices are falling in Italy -- not everywhere but enough -- to become more competitive.