Muddy Boots

Why everything tastes the same on wine junkets

The whirlwind wine trip of the "Barbera Boys" finishes up today. And when the seven bloggers have time to reflect and compose longer, more thoughtful posts, we'll see what a long half-life their experiences will enjoy. I think it's safe to say that the Barbera d'Asti zone won't be quite the same.

Still, having followed their posts and tweets with keen interest, one aspect of this trip that leaps out at me is the relative uniformity of the wines that have been presented to them. The cries of "too much oak" and "too much tannin" have echoed through each communique. I attribute this sameness to five factors:

1. The selection committee, however composed, has picked wines that they believe will appeal to international (American) consumers.

2. The producers are afflicted with group-think and are convinced that the high-oak, concentrated route is the sure path to success.

3. The same producers are the ones with sufficient clout to get themselves selected. Think intense involvement in the C of C, Rotary Club, Lions, etc., or their Italian equivalents, and you see how small-town networking pays off for the assiduous glad-handers.

4. Fear. A perennial favorite. Along with it, risk-averseness. An unvirtuous feedback loop is established.

5. The exclusion -- or self-exclusion -- of smaller players vastly reduces the chance of tasting wines that don't conform to the prevailing style. Visiting writers receive a fairly representative overview of the zone's production, but necessarily an incomplete one. The prevailing style is consecrated as "official," even to the detriment of the production zone.

I wish I could reveal how going against this grain has benefited Domenico Selections in finding a true gem in Barbaresco, but I won't until the deal has been signed. Suffice it to say that you aren't going to find "hidden" gems by hanging around consortium offices or the local Chamber of Commerce. The quality outriders don't play that.  

 

  

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.

 

What are the 3 noble red-wine grapes of Italy?

 When we were at the International Wine Academy in Rome the other night, Ian D'Agata mentioned the third "noble grape" of the reds of Italy. 

It's pretty obvious that Nebbiolo is one of them. In fact, it's the first one most people in Italy or America will think of.

What are the other two? 

Operators aren't standing by, unfortunately. But Typepad craves to receive your comments.

Grazie, amici. 

 

How to find new producers

Recently an importer of Italian wines told me, "You don't need to go to Italy to find new producers. You come to events like Italian Wine Week. You have friends in Italy who give you tips. Maybe there's an agent or two over there you can build a relationship with."

 

All good points. But they're not enough. You still need to go to Italy and root around the countryside. Here's why.

1. Tasting a sample bottle or two isn't enough. You get an idea of the winery's potential, but you have to go there and taste an entire range and multiple vintages. This is essential in evaluating the property's quality and character over the long haul.

2. Nosing around the countryside can be serendipitous. Sometimes you stop at a trattoria, start chatting with the regulars and pretty soon you've got a couple of names to call, wineries to visit, hidden gems to uncover. Most often they amount to nothing. But sometimes you find rubies.

3. Wine = (land + grapes) + (traditions x people). If you're going to make an investment in a wine, you'd better know the people you're investing in too. Is there a passion for what they do?  How are they doing it? Can you pretty much believe what they're telling you? Will they be easy to work with? Can you trust them to deliver what they say they will? While there's no foolproof way of knowing the answers to all these questions after you've met with them, it's infinitely harder to do if you interact only at a distance.

4. Firm, mutual commitment derives from trust and respect. And a shared belief in the character and quality of the wines.

  
 

I confess that I roll my eyes when people go on and on with the "wine is a living thing" bit. Wine is not a living thing. Just because it keeps changing in bottle doesn't mean it's alive. 

What is alive is the man or woman who made it. The family and workers who support this effort. The relationship these folks have defined with their patch of land and the realities of their locale -- climate, soils, grape varieties, traditions and constraints. This is what's alive. This is what you must know to understand and champion the wines they, and you, love.

 

 

Key West needs our wines!

 
 Strappo has returned from a week in Key West, where below-average temperatures did not prevent him from receiving severe burns on his face. He'd forgot to pack the sunscreen and was too stubborn, or cheap, to buy more until the next-to-last day, when endless pain forced him to fork over too much money for some 30SP.

Aside from that, it was a pleasant enough week. A few beach days were eked out even on a day the mercury only hit 60F, thanks to the intense sun. And it was exceedingly restful; the first few days were spent in a bleary-eyed stupor.

Always a friendly Key West welcome 

As to food, Key West is wonderful for those of you who love deep-fried anything. The best food is local -- grouper or mahi mahi sandwiches, preferably pan-seared and not deep-fried. Drinks are plentiful and comparatively cheap (the food isn't). But the drinks are very weak and leave you feeling bloated but unbuzzed. 

After a while you get tired of watery beer and rum concoctions and yearn for a decent glass of wine.

Good luck with that.

Not every old Conch house has been gentrified (click to see more details)

Every wine list looks like it was dreamt up by the same distributor (who could that be, I wonder?), and it features mass-market California stuff (the same ones you find in the CVS on Front Street), a few Pinot Grigios from the usual suspects, some ultra-cheapies from the Southern Hemisphere -- and that's more or less it. 

Let's put it this way. The best wine of the week was a Louis Latour Pouilly-Fuisse' for $52 at a mediocre but $$$$ fish-and-steak place. 

Key West, you really, really need Domenico Selections wines.

The end of the line 

 

 

 

 

McItaly & the Hoped-for Death of Foodism

Catchy title, eh?

Like most catchy titles, it's quite misleading. I have no intention of being yet another to lament the stupid vulgarity of Italy's ag minister, Luca Zaia, who has launched some initiative, with McDonalds, intended to show that Italy gets the modern world of food, or something. All to give young people the world over a genuine taste of Italy. 

See, they do amazing things like adding Italian cheeses and such to Mickey D's burgers: 

McDonald’s Italia Director Roberto Masi said that the sandwich launched yesterday, which consists of an artichoke spread topped with Asiago cheese, lettuce and, of course, a burger on 100% Italian bread, is already being sold in Switzerland. Next week the sandwich will arrive in France and later it will be sold in Spain, Portugal and Holland.

In three weeks’ time the second McItaly sandwich will go on sale. It will consist of a hamburger garnished with Italian olive oil, grilled onions and smoked pancetta. The McItaly salad contains lettuce, bresaola and parmesan.

You can read the whole article about this laughable program here (in English). 

Another depressing thing from Italy that I saw on Twitter the other day: a link to an article that asked if we needed the food word and concept to parallel that of terroir for wine: Foodoir. Yes, my friends, things have gone too far.

Good, that's out of the way.

I would now like to vent about the follies of foodism -- which I define as an excessive preoccupation with food along with the moral judgments that informs it.

In the last 20 years we have seen a baffling number of "health scares" and fashions in food, most of which have served to 1) cast an admonitory finger at those who consumed "bad" foods and 2) elevate the self-perceived moral superiority of the castigators. And, I suspect, not a few of these high-dudgeon scare campaigns have been concocted by the food industry to pave the way for "new and healthier" products. 

Off the top of my head:

- Coffee, tea and all beverages containing caffeine

- Oat bran, a miracle food

- Bread is always bad. Empty calories. Makes you fat. Right to the hips! Substitute with oat bran muffins, rolls, breads, cookies

- Cholesterol, especially in its bloody form as "red meat"

- High-fat foods, not only salty snacks but, of course, anything made from the flesh of innocent beasts of the field and air (industrially farmed chicken, oddly enough, wasn't a moral problem until comparatively few years ago -- but chickens aren't mammals). Skip the steaks -- and please don't eat veal, ever -- and if you must kill a creature, make it a fish

- Tuna. Not because we're killing tuna, which is deemed to be good for us, but because we coincidently kill mammals

- Fat-free snacks. Yes, they reduce fat intake. But they contain more sugar than fatty snacks, setting up the poor and ignorant to suffer more obesity (if they could be persuaded to buy such untasty goodies)

- Fish. Forget the tuna, there's too much mercury and so forth in it. Plus we're depleting the oceans! Factory fishing boats of all things; did they never read "Captains Courageous" or at least see the film with that marvelous Spencer Tracy? What do you expect, they're Japanese and Koreans

- Canola oil is acceptable for cooking and dressing salads. Nothing else is, including olive oil (monosaturates or some other word that sounds wicked). Must say "polyunsaturated" somewhere on the bottle

-Coffee can actually be rather beneficial for mental function. Astonishingly, researchers have found that it keeps people more alert and able to process complex tasks

- Tea is terrific if it's some milky mess called "chai" (that would mean "tea" in India) and costs a lot more than a couple of cents per ordinary teabags, which are acceptable for down-home items like ice tea

- OK, you can eat salmon -- it's high in this oil and that -- but not the farmed kind, which pollutes coastlines in pristine parts of the world. Anyway, it's cheaper and doesn't taste as good

- Actually, red meat is acceptable because there is now doubt that a high-carb diet is as good for the human body as one rich in meat protein. Even Kate Moss is an omnivore! Until she throws it up

- Alcohol is fine as long as it's red wine and drunk in medicinal moderation. Any more than 2 glasses a day for a man or 1 for a woman -- well, get yourself to an AA meeting, lush

- Canned and frozen foods are wrong. Everyone should go to a farmer's market and buy fruits and vegetables and $6 loaves of artisanal bread. Or at least to Whole Foods despite the company's dreadful right-wing president

- Sorry, turns out olive oil is very very good for you indeed. Something about monosaturates, which help reduce cholesterol. Part of the Mediterranean diet, which permits you to sneak in some of that old enemy, pasta

- Bread is acceptable if it's made of unmilled flour or something, comes in a strange shape and has lots of kernels or husks or something in it. It seems our neolithic farmer ancestors knew something about the benefits of roughage and avoiding polyps. Besides, it's traditional and organic and so on

- It used to be exciting to eat Chilean sea bass, tilapia, mahi mahi and fruits from all over the southern hemisphere. "Globalization" seemed cool, like the @ in your new electronic mail address on the infobahn. These things are now out of fashion for a very good reason: we got sick of them, AND the carbon footprint to get them to our greedy exploitative maws was discovered to be unacceptably high

- Foams were all the rage until we realized they were very expensive AND didn't fill us up. There's a reason the founder of the craze has closed his resto down for a couple of years. Steakhouses are acceptable again if you are one of the few to have an expense account

- Sweets are unacceptable. Junk food. A prime cause of the obesity epidemic afflicting our children and the unmotivated, slovenly, Palin-loving proletariat. Unless they (the desserts, or as we in the know prefer to call them, "dolci") are made from very fine ingredients and come from a chef with a pedigree. Then they are acceptable

- Cocktails are in. Especially if made from fresh infusions of weird herbs and fruits prepared by a mixologist with obscure, costly brands of artisanal booze

- Wine is more popular than ever especially if it's from some obscure place and made from a grape no one ever heard of. Extra cool points awarded if fermented in a buried clay pot or a disused chicken coop. Floating matter and vile smells enhance its charm and discussability   

- One has an obligation to "eat local." It's a moral, planet-saving one that takes, alas, no account of the sufferings of the Chilean farmer who hoed his way out of poverty after living under a brutal dictatorship for about 20 years. In a place like Scotland, this would lead to a year-round diet of haggis and barley soup. In New York City, a diet of park weeds and rats 

Clearly, this doctrine requires more analysis and discussion over pad thai and Alsatian gewurztraminer. 

That sinking feeling

The weather hung cold and gray over northern Italy. Snow lay thick on the ground around Barolo. The weather mirrored the mood of the people, and not least the wine producers.

Aside from the usual suspects -- the rich and connected who generally pay no taxes, shockingly like some in this country -- no one seems to have much liquidity, which is to say money, either to invest or to spend on anything but the bare necessities.

"La crisi" is hitting Italy hard. The boom years are long over -- in the wine sector and beyond. A hopeful headline read, "2010, the comeback year." Not likely.

Forget Italian winemakers conquering China or finding salvation there. What they should be doing is figuring out ways to reconquer the American market. They need new prices (of course), and more. New strategies for self-differentiation and for zonal cooperation. Southerners in particular are too jealous and insecure to band together effectively, as have done many northern Consorzi and associazioni. You can be sure that, as usual, Italian Wine Week will be dominated by big-name regions and appellations from Tuscany north. Yet these very areas tend to offer a less attractive package of me-too wines and unconvincing prices. Brunello or Chianti, anyone?

Let us not delude ourselves on either side of the Atlantic -- 2010 is going to be a tough year. Maybe tougher than 2009.

Italians, you're getting back into Neorealist territory. Survival will be hard. Just don't resort to your old peasant tricks. Keep it (the wine) clean.

Mechanical nightmare

Let's see how frustrating modern travel can be:

1. The car broke down in Piemonte.

2. The BlackBerry shut itself off in Tuscany. When it had rebooted itself the browser was gone, and with it all the bookmarks. Twitter and Facebook, not to mention the august New York Times, were lost to me.

3. The iTouch charger wouldn't charge. No music on the way home. Nothing to drown out the screaming infants or loudmouthed blowhards on the flight home.

4. Worst of all--by far the worst of all--the MacBook Air died in Valpolicella. Caput. Niente. Sad, really. In this modern age you're only as good as your data.  

All of which explains why, gentle reader, you haven't heard much from Strappo in days past. We are forced (oh! the ignominy!) to  use a hotel computer, a clunky PC, that seems like it's running with tin cans and string. And what the hell is this Acer keyboard all about? Scadente.

And it's been freezing, too.

"All you do is complain, Strappo. Has nothing good happened on this trip?"

"First of all," I reply, "it's my Irish heritage to complain about everything. It's the one thing, aside from binge drinking, that we excell in. And, yes, it has been a splendid trip from a wine-searching point of view."

I'll post a couple of interesting tidbits before heading home tomorrow morning.

A presto, amici.

Modern packing

Deep thoughts as we prepare for a wine-sourcing trip to Italy

People who don't travel much -- especially travel abroad -- tend to pack too much. They obsess about every outfit, every sock, every shoe. 

When you travel to Italy in winter, pretty much anywhere in the country, here's a tip: pack as little as you can and make sure it's layerable.

Why?

1. Most Italians dress very casually. Hard times mean more utilitarian clothes. Leave the fancy duds home.

2. It's cold. The houses are ill-heated and the churches and other haunts of turisti are frigid. Hotels are usually OK, B&Bs freezing.

3. It's damp. It seeps into your bones. Wear wool socks and rubber-souled shoes. Take two pairs of shoes, tops. (One pair to wear while the other dries out.) 

The layering is key because it starts out cold in the morning and may be very pleasant by noontime, when you may find a sunny spot to eat in a piazza cafe. Strip off some of the layers before you head into the next gelid, dark church.

A couple of tips for keeping your suitcase smaller/lighter: 

1. They have laundromats. Believe it or not, you CAN wash your clothes over there. Halfway through the trip, whether it's for business or pleasure, wash a load. This means half the clothes to pack and lug around. As to dry cleaning -- take clothes that sort of need it anyway. You'll get the most out of them by the time you get back home. Traveling is a dirty business.

2. Don't obsess over toiletries and minor medications like aspirin, allergy pills, etc. Astonishingly, you can buy what you need for the trip over there. Even if you forget your prescribed medication, it's often possible to get a prescription filled very simply at a farmacia. 

3. Put a change of underwear, socks and a shirt in your carry-on. Just in case your bag's delayed.  But despite the risk of wayward luggage, don't be a jerk -- check your damned suitcase.

I can pack clothes in five minutes -- easy. Remembering meds and toiletries is a little harder for some reason.

But by far the biggest preoccupation for the modern packer is the panoply of electronics, chargers and cords.  

BlackBerry. Ever-constant companion

Italian cell phone. Did you charge it before you left? Like the day you left? 

Laptop. And don't leave the power cords in the airport. 

GPS. Charge and program before you leave home. 

iPod. Especially helpful if you're seated within 20 rows of a screaming brat.

Kindle. Most useful on the trip home.

Camera. Take extra batteries.

Nose-hair trimmer. Ditto.

Getting them all charged and paired with their various cords -- plus enough adapters -- is by far the most stressful part of packing. It takes by far the longest time to do. 

Still. Better these generally useful items than a dinner jacket and all its trinketry.

  

  

 
 

"Tanky" vs. "woody"

Not long ago Jeff told me that a retailer had tasted a Domenico Selections wine and declared that it was "tanky."

"Tanky!" I exclaimed. "What the hell does that mean?" 

Another kind of tanky

A curious comment because the wine is not, strictly speaking, a stainless steel-dwelling wine at all. It ferments in steel and ages in concrete vats. "He said it lacked roundness -- too tannic and rustic," Jeff told me. "He liked the other one though." The other one being the same producer's aged-in-large-wooden-barrels version.

Obviously, the lack of wood was the critical element here. The retailer preferred the oaked wine from the same producer, and from other producers as well. While he was doubtless thinking of the wines' appeal to his customers, the very word "tanky" strikes me as a visceral, personal reaction to a flavor profile that simply isn't the guy's favorite.

Different strokes. 

I for one tend to prefer the "tanky" version of whatever wine is on offer. Less wood, the better. If the DOC or DOCG requirements include aging in wood, I'm going to prefer the wine that has a more integrated wood treatment, where the wood is in the background -- a supporting player, not the scene-stealing second banana. Part of it is from a desire to taste the fruit and the varietal characteristics clearly. Part is it because for me "woody" is as disparaging a term as "tanky" is to someone else.

A Guide to DS Tankiness

So, for the public good, here is a list of the Domenico Selections wines that age in steel and/or cement, touching no wood except on the vine:

Reds

Mustilli Piedirosso

Musto Carmelitano Serra del Prete (the tanky one, which is the one I prefer -- but that's me))

Villa Monteleone Campo Santa Lena 

Whites

All of the I Stefanini Soaves and Spumante

All of the Angelarosa wines

Mustilli Falanghina and "Vigna Segreta" Falanghina

Mazzone Immensus Malvasia

 

Something about Natural

 Domenico Selections has its share of natural wines. Here's a list of the wineries that are either certified biodynamic or certified "biologico" (organic) and on the way to full BD certification -- a process that in Italy takes at least seven years and many many euros:

Angelarosa

Boccella

Mustilli

Musto Carmelitano

Reale

Schiaccionaia

Terra di Vento

Villa Monteleone

Most definitions of natural wine include some or all of the following (from Wikipedia):

• Hand-picked, organically or biodynamically grown grapes.
• Low-yielding vineyards.
• No added sugars, no foreign yeasts.
• No fining or filtration
• No adjustments for acidity.
• No other additives for mouth-feel, colour, etc.
• No micro-oxygenation or reverse osmosis.
• Little or no added sulphite.

While there are some fervent advocates of "natural wine" who expect all of these criteria to be met, in addition to several more, pragmatism and survival must rule. In an exceptionally rainy year it is usually necessary to spray the vines and fruit with copper and sulphur. It's either that and see much of your crop ruined, and with it the ability to make any money or pay some of your debts.

Adding sugar, chaptalization, is widely permitted and has been practiced around the world for a very long time. When the climate was colder, and today in colder zones, chaptalization was essential to make a drinkable product. Remember, too, before the previous century sugar was perceived as a luxury product and therefore a positive good. The taste for bigger, sweet, fuller wines was born out of a predilection for luxury, since sugar wasn't an everyday treat for the working stiff.

As to yeasts, most artisanal producers in Italy profess to use only native, spontaneously occurring ones.   

Some of our producers do fine their wines using age-old techniques like egg whites. Egg whites seem like a pretty natural ingredient to me. Certainly if no filtration keeps the flavor and mouthfeel of the wine more vibrant, don't filter. 

As to additives to enhance the color, mouthfeel and flavor of the wine, I believe it's generally possible to spot them right away. When Italians talk about the good "typicity" of a wine, they are obliquely referring to the true characteristics of the fruit expressed in the wine, without tricks and "makeup." We've been in more than one producer's laboratory -- itself a giveaway -- where the presence of colorants and a raft of other additives caused us to break off discussions and leave right away.

Fortunately, most of our producers are so small that micro-oxygenation and reverse osmosis wouldn't make any economic sense. Not that they'd want to use such techniques anyway. I should hope.

By far the most important factor is, of course, the fruit. "Organically farmed" means no chemical fertilizers, pesticides or herbicides are used. Hand-picking and selection are an important corollary this that. Better, cleaner and less fruit per hectare results in higher-quality wines. 

Or should, given the skill and intuitions of the winemaker. Just as "naturalness" in wine cannot be resolved into a strict dogma, neither can the winemaker's experience in his vineyards, varieties and cellar be reduced to a single formula for good wine whatever its degree of imputed "naturalness".

To read more about "Natural Wine and the Search for Identity," go to this enlightening article on Wine Enabler. 

      

 

 

10 years ahead: Wine trends in America

Today Dale Cruse of Drinks Are On Me posted a link to an interesting post by Jon Bonné in today's SFGate, the website of the San Francisco Chronicle. (Click here for the article.)

In his piece, Bonné lists five trends that he thinks will be most important in the decade ahead. In the setup paragraphs, though, he makes a key point that we all would do well to remember:

More wine is being consumed than ever before - nearly 3 gallons per U.S. adult in 2008, according to data from the Beverage Information Group.

There's something else: a lot of newly minted wine drinkers who grew up with wine-drinking parents.

This is truly something new in American life. And I think it has everything to do with the fifth trend that Bonné observes:

 5. Less is more. Less alcohol (the numbers are already leveling off), less wood flavors, less tinkering. Some of this is a change in taste: more clear fruit than wood, brighter flavors that go with dinner, wines from around the world that fit this bill.

But there's another lesson to be drawn from the recession: Simple winemaking is also less expensive. And all caveats aside about denting the brand - less expensive means more wine sold.

(Underscores mine.)

This "less is more" trend is clearly visible and well under way in a city like New York, and presumably in Bonné's home territory in the Bay Area. These younger wine-drinkers are precisely the kind of people he refers to at the top of the article -- the children of Boomers, whose parents exposed them to wine consistently from a very young age. Unlike their parents, though, the young ones tend to view wine less as a substitute for liquor and more of an accompaniment to food. Hence the "less" -- less wood, less alcohol, less heavy sweetness and less tinkering. It doesn't hurt that the closely related trend to "natural wine" has been strongly tied to "green" values and a sort of civic if not global virtuousness.

In short, they are acquiring, consciously or no, a more European approach to wine. I think this is, by and large, a positive development for both US and imported wines of quality and character WHEN the price-quality ratio is appropriate.

If we unpack Bonne's observation we do see potentially upsetting consequences:

* California's producers have to back off the 20+ year trend toward pricey, overblown wines. This will not be easy to do. Think of Detroit in the face of the serious Japanese challenge of the late 70s and 80s. Instead of doing a good job of making smaller, more efficient cars, Detroit opted for bigger and less efficient trucks. 

* Should California rise to the challenge, eventually many Old World wines that fit the "new" profile will lose their now crystal-clear distinctiveness. The question arises: What will be the basis of their new market appeal? Merely trumpeting their organic farming practices and obscure local grape varieties will not suffice.

In both cases, I agree with Bonné that intense downward pricing pressure, combined with this flight to "authenticity," will separate the sheep from the goats. 

Dilettantes and gentleman farmers, beware.      

Tasting day 1, 2010

This was the day I got to taste a raft of wines from a number of producers from central and northern Italy. I joined Jeff and Ken for a mini-marathon of often gruesome tasting experiences. We whirled and sniffed and washed out our mouths, retasted, repeat repeat repeat, retasted if the wine was promising, and RE-restasted it if we were really intrigued by it.  

After about 25-30 bottles, it came down to two producers and six bottles. Really five. 

You'd think it would be easy to add to a portfolio -- hundreds of producers chase after each importer, or so it seems. But, no. It isn't very easy at all. It would be if we wanted to import mouthwash. But that's another channel of distribution entirely.

 

Adulteration vs Social Progress

Last night I was re-reading the book Falanghina and was struck by a passage from the chapter "History of a Grapevine" by Antonella Monaco, a pioneering genetic researcher in the field of southern Italian grape varieties. She quotes Giuseppe Frojo (pronounced froyo), whose 1876 research sparked a modern system of classification of the varieties. He took a critical view of viticultural and commercial wine practices in that now antique period.

  

And of many interesting passages, this was the one that seemed most relevant to today's situation, even despite all of the vast improvements in viticulture and winemaking since those days under the shadow of phylloxera and the end of the Little Ice Age.  

"Ask me about Falanghina"

...Frojo...deplores the excessive influence on the "...peasants' taste...of the small wine retailers" who not only imposed some characters to the wine [I think this means to say 'particular qualities or characteristics'] that were incompatible with those required by international trade (wines too tannic, loved because "strong" or too acidic, called "razzenti", or too spirituous), but that also lowered their quality, urging to make farmers to make wines "that are easier to adulterate...they prefer to buy the most tannic, spirituous and colored wine." (Page 41)

(Underscore mine.)

Let's take this passage apart, just a bit.

In the 1870s the culprits, according to Frojo, were the small merchants -- both retailers and wholesalers -- who catered to a largely local market. (At that time Naples was by far the biggest city in Italy, the center of a very densely populated urban region.) The peasants -- a key word denoting the almost serflike state of the wine producers -- were led by these supposed tastemakers. As perhaps they needed to be, since, as Monaco recounts, the farmers were guilty of planting too wide a variety of vines, often yielding very inferior fruit and bearing differing traits as to color, taste and ripening times. 

This problem was attested by Columella in the 1st Century AD. But surely the deteriorating quality of the vines that Frojo documented was in part a result of an oidium attack around 1850, during which several excellent varieties were reportedly wiped out. 

All interesting in an academic sort of way. What stood out was the portion that I underlined. The end of the passage suggests a couple of significant things regarding today's wine and its evaluations:

1. The identification of dark, tannic, "strong" wines with "superior" wines seems to have been a constant since the 1870s at least. Unlike oidium and phylloxera, this plaguey preference was not a ruinous American import. It was part of a broader wine culture in Italy and, probably, in much of Europe. Given the much chillier climatic conditions of the era, one can see how higher alcohol, darker, "richer" wines would be sought after. So much wine had to be thin plonk indeed. 

2. The urge to "correct" wine by various means -- adding sugar being the least of the "adulterations" -- was no less widespread than it is today. Technology hadn't yet provided a way to prevent wines from being ruined by bad musts and various fungal contaminations. Today wines are frequently "hypercorrected" in the sense that they aren't usually off or bad, but they are manipulated to acquire a set of desirable marketing characteristics. In 1876 they would doubtless have done it if they'd been able.

3. The big change in the power equation is the increased autonomy of the grape-farmer/winemaker. One hears the same story again and again in Italy and especially in Campania: "We grew grapes for bulk wines for 40 years, but we realized our fruit was too good to sell off like that and we decided to make much better wine with it." To attribute all of this to technology and improved agricultural education is to look at only part of the story. It is evidence of the impressive social, political and economic progress made by the "peasants". And also because in so many families it's the younger generation of women who are taking over the management of the azienda and the making of the wine.

You see, everything in Italy isn't as dysfunctional as the Italians like to believe.  

 

 

Buon Natale ecc.

 
 
 
 It's the most something day of the year. I'm dreaming of a white something.

In New York we will have a white Christmas. Sort of. Greyed with soot and yellowed with gifts from dogs dressed in sweaters and booties. Merry, etc.

Sorry, does one sound jaded? 

One needs little children scooped up into the collective madness that is Christmas. For some of us, that is (sniff) far in the past. 

I for one will go to the movies and eat steak with friends. With much flowing Italian wine. Making merry in our jaded old way. And, you know, happy to be together.

Merry something and Happy the other. Let's leave it at that as we drink oceans of delicious Italian wines.

Ciao e benedetti siate.

Meglio tardi che mai

 "Better late than never"

That was the title of an Italian TV program in the 1960s, which taught the peasant masses to read and write. So there, skeptics, TV does occasionally add to the greater good.

But, honestly, this post has nothing to do with ancient Italian TV shows or the greater good. It has to do with Domenico Selections, "and that's enough for me", to translate a merry little song from the Hebrew.  (We're conscious of being highly multi-cultural this evening. While I'm at it, I'll mention wassail and mince pies -- there, sceptical England's out of the way).

No, this digressive post is about the container of Campanian and Lucanian (Basilicatan?) wine that's just arrived. Faced with the dreadful problem of excessive sales, we were forced to order more wine from three southern Italian wineries last month -- Mustilli, Musto Carmelitano and Boccella. 

Due to the season and several other factors, the wines seemed to take a bloody eternity to get here. 

However, I received glad tidings (God bless us everyone) this evening, ie, all those delicious and compulsively drinkable wines are ready for delivery on Monday. The winter solstice! The commencement of Saturnalia! Eric Hughes's birthday! The second day after Chanukkah! 

Look soon for fortified supplies of Mustilli Falanghina, Vigna Segreta (their single-vineyard Falanghina), Piedirosso (think Campanian Beaujolais); Boccella Taurasi (whoa -- that's all I can say); and more more more Musto Carmelitano Aglianico del Vulture, both Serra del Prete (no wood, aged in cement) and Pian del Moro. 

Gorgeous and, dare I say, hedonistic wines all.

Please pester your favorite wine shop and restaurant to order these bold, beautiful wines soon. 

(Picture from Boccella where they make the Taurasi. Taken down the hill ("rasott") where they make the grand Rasott Aglianico.)

 

  

Wake up and smell the must

 Yet another wine scandal has erupted in Italy. According to a December 10 article in "La Nazione" at Siena, the Guardia di Finanza swooped down on alleged "polluters" of Chiant's integrity, hauled in 17 people, impounded 110 million gallons of vino and are investigating 42 wine companies for their involvement in the scheme. (Read the original story here in Italian.)

The scheme this time involves the adulteration of Chianti DOC and Tuscan IGT wines with outside and/or inferior grapes. As with Brunellogate in 2008, it all boils down to a simple case of greed. Imagine the masterminds as they plotted their way to higher profits and fancier SUVs:

"I got it! We cut our wimpy wine with some full-bodied plonk from Abruzzo/Puglia/Sicily and we keep the price high because we are Chianti/Brunello/Montalcino!"

"That's brilliant! We sell two, three, four times more wine! And those dumb Americans will give it great reviews and -- " 

as they embrace and dance merrily about the room -- 

"We'll get new Range Rovers!"

"I want a suit from Kiton!

"I can get my daughter that chalet in the Dolomites!"

And so on.

For the record so far, not all the people being investigated are from Chiantishire or Tuscany. The preponderance are, but outfits from Emilia-Romagna, Lombardy, Trentino-Alto Adige and Abruzzo are all under the shadow.

Alfonso Cevola, "the Italian wine guy," wrote an eloquent screed about this new imbroglio this weekend. Click here to read it (in English). This could be filed under the heading: "Learn, When will They Ever?"

I bring all this up not to fling more mud at Italian wine producers; some of them have wallowed in the muck quite competently on their own. 

I do bring it up to point out the difference between the malefactors in such situations and the majority of honest producers with integrity. When the facts come out, as they are wont to do in unpredictable trickles, it is clear that big, politically connected outfits are more prone to behave dishonestly than the small, family-run wineries. For them wine is no longer a product of artisanal pride.  It's a commodity viewed with the same detachment bankers use in viewing, say, mortgage lending in the United States. They're amoral and self-serving, and they hurt many innocent bystanders -- not least the honest wine producers -- as their schemes are exposed.

There's been some hand-wringing about the effect this latest to-do will have on Americans' perceptions of Italian wines, and their willingness to buy products that once more have been called into question regarding authenticity and proper value. I believe sales of Chianti and the other implicated appellations will suffer for a while (Brunello and Rosso di Montalcino mainly). Fortunately, though, Italy is a big country, wine-wise, and the place is crammed with producers whose wares are "the real deal."  

Oh and, yes, Domenico Selections brings some of these chicche (pearls) into the United States. The real deal.   

 

 Hat courtesy of the Guardia di Finanza shop in Upper Ruritania

Sign of the times? Yes and no

I pass by this place many times each week -- it's just two blocks from home. Last night I snapped these pix as I was walking home from the subway. I thought, "Well, another one bites the dust. This lousy recession."

For 18 years Vong was one of the major outposts of the Jean-Georges Vongerichten empire  

But things are not what they seem. Another high-profile restaurateur is taking over the space, according to Haute Living (link to article).

According to the HL piece, the lease was up and JGV decided not to renew. Read into that what you will. 

I'm hoping the new resto will be more Italian-wine friendly. 

One thing I'm certain of: it will be at least as punishing to the credit card.

Year One, down the hatch

Yes, friends, it was a year ago today that the first orders were placed for Domenico Selections wines -- by Cool Vines in Westfield, NJ and Frankly Wines in Tribeca.

In those dark, far-off days we were worried about the Future of Our System.  We were -- get this -- happy that the megabillion-dollar bail-outs seemed to be working. An anxious but more innocent time.

Well, the system may still be in rough seas, as we continue the shipping metaphor, but Domenico Selections has prospered, especially when you consider the dismal economic and psychological waters we're still in. We're in a few more states than we were then, working on more. You can buy our wines at a good assortment of high-end restaurants and both small and big retailers.  We have five sales people in the New York metro area hustling and opening things up, with more folks in the queue. The containers from Italy are coming more and more often. 

Darned good for a group that started from zero in the Great Recession. 

To the partners, sales people, producers and customers, heart-felt thanks for this wonderful first year.

And, as they say on the via Veneto, Excelsior!     

Thankful? Oh yeah

Thanksgiving is over except for the gastric distress and the hangover. Quindi it was the best Thanksgiving dinner ever. Good friends, great food, lots of Domenico Selections wines that the guests were clamoring to buy. "Where can I get this, Strappo?"

"Oh," I'd smile bashfully, "here and there."  I told them where to find each one.

I took pictures of our turkey & wine bacchanalia but have been too lazy to download them. Another day.

When it comes to being thankful, I have to say that there's a lot to be grateful for. Next week I'll put up a post dedicated to the company's first anniversary. One cause for rejoicing is the support some fine restaurants have given us, notably the famous Babbo, which has 10 of our vini on their list. (Grazie, Luca.) I'm happy to have them there although, of course, I can't afford to eat in the place.

Curious about which wines? Here they are:

Piandibugnano Nanerone 

Piandibugnano L'Erpico 

La Schiaccionaia Trasubie

Boccella Rasott

Villa Monteleone Campo San Vito Ripasso

Musto Carmelitano Serra del Prete

Cascina Gilli Freisa d'Asti Vigna del Forno

Mustilli Piedirosso

Mustilli Aglianico di Sant'Agata Cesco di Nece

I Stefanini Soave Superiore Classico Monte di Fice