Muddy Boots

One glorious bottle

Jeff took this shot too. On this trip we were treated to some interesting wines. We had this one and a '96 Gaja Barbaresco. Guess which one blew the other out of the water?

Cell phone shot. 1981 1961 Borgogno. Still a supple young beauty
 

Tuscany in the first days of March

Domenico Selections' Jeff Mazen took these pictures as we drove through Tuscany. The earth was coming alive. Click on the images to view them larger.

These are creatures the Italians call "ships"

 
 This is a straightaway in rural Italy

 You too can rent this. Agriturismo at Casale Pozzuolo

There's gold in them thar hills

 
"A.A.D" = Atto a diventare (meant to become) a DOC Montecucco wine. It can't be labeled as such until the local appellation commission tests and approves it.

Steed at rest. Grosseto.  
  

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. 

 

Terra di Vento: Sulphite-free zone

This morning we met with Roberto Nicodemo of Terra di Vento and his enologo, Fortunato "Lucky" Sebastiano. We tasted the new wines and talked of the future. Based on what we tasted, the future looks bright indeed.

 

Roberto Nicodemo & a bottle of his Aglianico, Petrale

Terra di Vento is located where the Salerno coastal plain ends and the Picentine mountains begin. From the property you can see the Mediterranean and part of the Amalfi coastal region. This nearness to the open water moderates the climate, assuring cooling breezes in summer and mild ones in winter. Since Terra di Vento means "land of wind," you might guess -- correctly -- that the constant circulation of air cuts the risk of mold and mildew to just about nothing. 

This pleasant exposure is one of the factors that encouraged Dr. Nicodemo to take the winery to biologic (organic) certification. 

The other major physical factor for taking this path is the unspoiled nature of the soil on the 160-acre property. It has been farmed for centuries but never subjected to the abuses of modern chemical pesticides and fertilizers. 

There are more than physical or material factors in every important decision, of course. Roberto's grandmother farmed many of these acres herself, and his mother was raised there. There is a strong emotional bond, a desire to commemorate the lives and hard work of his family and the others who worked beside them on this earth. 

This factor, a spiritual one, has impelled him to make Terra di Vento a biodynamic farm in all the things that it produces, with wine and olive oil only two of the most prominent. BD certification is a long, expensive process -- so much so that some people who could qualify don't bother to pursue it. This is something that Roberto is deeply committed to, along with an educational and cultural component; Terra di Vento is already a venue for local artists, farming tutorials for kids, equestrianism, and new agriturismo facilities tucked into and over the fields and vineyards.

With all this in mind we tasted one of Dr. Nicodemo's favorites, a rosato made of Aglianico. The 2009 Tecla Madre -- named for Santa Tecla, the frazione where his grandmother was brought up and worked, and Madre Terra (Mother Earth) -- is a stunningly beautiful rose'. Light cherry-red in color, it has both loads of fruit and the structure to keep it lively and fresh for several years. The wine has a clean, long finish. 

The sample bottle of 2009 Fiano, which is still in tank and wood (7% in acacia), is clean and fresh as a sea breeze with delightful citrus and tropical fruit notes that do not cross over the line to heaviness or sweetness. Honey on the nose. A delightful summer white, whether on its own or with light salads and seafood dishes.

Finally, we tasted the 2007 version of our best-selling red, the Terra di Vento Petrale, which is 100% Aglianico. Cleaner and brighter than the 2006, its fruit gradually revealed itself in the glass (the wine started out rather cold), more structured and tannic and more nuanced than the 2006. The 2007 growing season was hotter than 2006 in the Colli di Salerno zone, yet the wine's balance impressed. With some time in glass the Petrale 2007 opened up with scents and tastes of purple fruits. It revealed new depths to us. 

Oh yes, and these vintages have no added sulphites. A very small amount occurs naturally. But if you are one of those who fears and/or loathes them, the Terra di Vento wines are surely ones you must try.

  

Pretty posh: International Wine Academy

Last evening we went to a tasting at the International Wine Academy in Rome. The theme was (I paraphrase) "Good wines for under 15 euros." (If only Dr. Debs had been there!) 

Under the bilingual leadership of Luca Azzellino and Ian D'Agata, we tasted some interesting wines that we had never heard of and others which can be found pretty widely in the Untied States. It was a nice mix of whites, reds, traditional styles and more modern, fruit-forward ones, and various regions of Italy. 

A couple of standouts, to me, were a white made from Nuragus, Salnico, made by the Sardinian producer Pala. Another was a dry muscat from Valle d'Aosta, Chambave Muscat from La Crotta di Vegneron -- its powerful aroma of white peaches promises a sweet wine, but on the palate it surprises you with a minerality and balance that make it compulsively drinkable. These were just two of the eleven wines that showed some of the rich variety of Italy's wines.

It's worth making a trip to the Wine Academy just because of its setting, a very posh one. The entrance is on a little side street, just to the right of the Spanish Steps (as you go down), but you can go up the elevator to the top, where you find yourself outside the super-posh Hassler Hotel. In fact, the Wine Academy has four rooms to rent (three gorgeous, one definitely not), which are managed by the Hassler. It ain't cheap, but it's a lot cheaper than paying for a rom at the Hassler itself. 

The Wine Academy has a restaurant, also managed by the Hassler.  You get the advantage of their kitchen and the Wine Academy's cellar. Meno male! 

40 miles of bad road

That was the title of a very old Dwayne Eddy song. (Oh shut up, whippersnappers.)

That's roughly what we traveled over today in deepest Tuscany -- 40 miles of rutted, muddy, kidney-bruising dirt roads to reach a couple of cantinas that are sooooo off the beaten path it's surprising the people who run them don't believe that Garibaldi is still uniting Italy. 

As the famous guidebook says, Vaut le voyage. We found two properties that make very small quantities of really elegant wines, among which we found Brunellos and even a Cab-Merlot blend that was more truly Bordelais than any of the stuff I've ever seen from Bolgheri and environs. Balance, elegance and a very judicious use of oak, along with excellent aging potential -- these qualities were shared by all the wines, different as their territories and grapes were. As always, opening prices are high; as usual, the winemakers are sitting on cellars-full of wine that simply must move, as much to make cellar space as to generate cash. 

So far, then, this trip has yielded two new producers, two very possible ones -- and there's more to come. 

Vaut le voyage.

Tuscany, Day 291

We left Grosseto in warm sunshine and the glow of yesterday's success in finding a splendid new producer of extraordinary Sangioveses (no details now, save that these people do so many of the right things in the vineyards and leave the wine pretty much alone in the cellar except for racking a few times). We had a tasting in a remote eastern part of Chianti and then, after having filled the tank to the tune of 52 euros, ground to a complete stop on the A1 autostrada south of Florence as we made our way to the thriving burg of Bucine. 

This, mind you, was the second breakdown of an Avis rental car in two trips. Another Italian make -- the first was an Alfa, this one a Fiat Croma. Yes, Fix It Again Tony. FIAT. The clutch failed. We were excitingly close to mammoth tractor trailers whizzing by at about 120 kph. I was on the phone with Avis employees (training motto: Just say no) a great number of times, losing my good manners in the language less of Dante than a howling member of the cursing classes.  

Then the carro attrezzi (flatbed) came and we got to ride high as pimps in the car, on top of the flatbed. The driver had to drive about 30 minutes south in order to turn around and take us to the Incisa toll plaza a little south of Florence proper. When he passed through the toll booth we too had to hand over our toll ticket and pay a euro for the less than 3 km we actually traveled under our own power. 

The rather arrogant toll-taker looked angry when I said, as I glared down at him from atop the flatbed, in a voice dripping with cold sarcasm, "E' stato un gran piacere." It's been a great pleasure.

A van driver was waiting for us at the Incisa exit. We transferred a shamefully large number of bags and wine samples to the van, which I wished we could rent, and went all the way to the center of the city to pick up the new car. That was 65 euros, which of course Avis paid for. (I should have asked for the one euro toll too.)

Then we had to double back to the ratty southern fringes of Florence, where we got a last-minute deal at a Sheraton. Cheap rooms with points; at 22 euros the slow Internet connection costs almost as much as the room. Where it's 100F and the toilet doesn't flush after you've deposited your used cinghiale.  The life of a commercial traveler, ladies and gents.

Speaking of cinghiale -- I truly love wild boar, occasionally. I've discovered that I don't much care for it every day, not to mention twice a day. Yes, between Sunday lunch and Monday dinner we devoured the tuskèd suine three times. I could still taste it until we stopped for a light lunch (a pound of pasta) at a roadside dive today at 2 PM. We resorted to club sandwiches tonight. 

What's that? "How could you?" After 10 days in Italy you begin to dread the obligatory prosciutto crudo and cheese plates, panini and all the rest of it. The big courses. You crave to snag a fast sandwich and continue on your merry way. 

More Tuscany tomorrow and then, I think, to Rome for a meeting and summative work, which will include a tasting of various samples collected on the way. Then Naples, then Friuli, then the glamorous Marriott near the Venice airport and, at last, slushy New York. 

By the way, in Tuscany the almonds are blooming, the vineyards are speckled with wee white flowers and quindi I am definitely not fed up enough to recite "Oh, to be in England!" or even "The Sidewalks of Noo Yawk." Magari!

Which is as good a way as any to say fuhgeddabaddit in Italian.

   

 

  

Almost live from Barbaresco

It's been too long since I've updated you on our sipping progress in Piemonte. The past few days have been a whirlwind of visits and tastings, all the while using the agriturismo of the fantastic Giovanna Rizzolio and Italo Sobriano (whose winery Cascina delle Rose makes lovely Barbarescos in small quantities). These people have a heart-wrenching story behind them -- I won't go into it here -- but let's just say that, for once, the underdogs persevered despite powerful and exceedingly arrogant adversaries in the wine world. 

Giovanna Rizzolio of Cascina delle Rose at Vinitaly last year. "Cascina" means farmhouse. "delle Rose" = of the roses. You could translate the name as "Rose Farm" in English. I can affirm that there are lots of rose bushes here.  

Domenico Selections is in the process of signing up a producer from this area, one whose tiny production has to be allocated to Hong Kong, Italy, Sweden and (soon!) the United States. This young man of 32, whose enologo is a very famous one in Piemonte, has been working in the vineyards and making wine most of his life. 

He makes four wines: a Dolcetto that beats the pants off any Dolcetto I've tasted in a long time; a Barbera and a Barbera Riserva that, to me, redefine the potential of Barbera (I say that because it's never been a particular favorite of mine); and a stunningly good Barbaresco that is thrilling even in its youngest barrel samples. All combine superior quality with prices that are highly affordable. When the contract's been signed, I shall tell all. This guy has quite a story to tell. 

We're off to Tuscany tomorrow. We have a ton of appointments all over the southern half of the region -- Bolgheri, Maremma, Chianti, Montecucco. 

We'll tune in again from Tuscany or, failing that, Rome late next week.    

  

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.

 

 

More funny winemakers' tricks

We were speaking today with a small producer in the Valdadige, the long narrow region that extends from the suburbs of Verona up into Trentino. This guy makes Pinot Grigio with a couple of clones that are well-adapted to his area. We were talking about America's insatiable thirst for this wine, which is represented by dozens of labels in any decent-sized wine store. We discussed at length the astonishing popularity of a wine that almost tastes like water (with a color to match). At one point, the winemaker told us, "Well, of course, most of it isn't really Pinot Grigio. If you gathered up all the Pinot Grigio we make up here in Northeast Italy, it would fill only about two containers. All the big brands -- ALL of them -- dump in plenty of Trebbiano Toscano, Chardonnay, whatever they have left over. As an example he mentioned Santa Margherita: "40% Pinot Grigio and no more.

"You could just write 'Grigio' on the label and they'd sell it."

This is, of course, completely in line with the ancient if not honorable wine maker's/merchant's tradition of extracting as much value out of his wine as possible -- all the better if he can palm off a cheap, inferior wine as something a little better and/or, as I write this laughing, "more authentic." Yet, as the "scandals" of the past couple of years have shown us with Brunello and Valpolicella, cheating the consumer and making monkeys of the wine press is a well-developed sport.

Speaking of the wine press, could it be that their gullibility (and/or their complicity) in these cute games is the real reason they take so much heat from bloggers and most people who are serious about wine? And one of the main reasons their clout is declining so precipitously?

As to the producers: enjoy it while it lasts. If nothing else, changes in fashion are going to make your financial woes even worse than they already are.

 

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.

Panna!

Panna means "cream," as in the famous panna cotta. It also means "breakdown," as in a car's ceasing to function. In the snow and the cold far from a suitable replacement.

So far none of the former, too much of the latter. After a scary 80-mile drive in dense fog (that's why it's called nebbiolo! the grape of the fogs!) on Monday night, on top of jet lag and so on -- with the transmission of the nifty Alfa station wagon skipping ominously with every shift of the gears -- the car completely died Tuesday morning, just a quarter mile from the intended destination. Don't get me started.  

I can tell you it's freezing in Piemonte. Seriously cold. One winemaker said, "Cold is good for the vines. It kills all sort of little pests." 

So we can safely assume that Barolo and area should be pest-free for a decade or two at least.

How do all those palm trees you see around Piemonte survive? I ask the locals and they don't know. I mean, it was recently almost zero Fahrenheit this month. Snow lies thick on the ground in towns like Barolo and Bra, and they look more like upstate New York than "sunny Eeeetaly." About as lively this time of year too. Deadsville, man. Nothing is open. Sensible people stay home and watch quiz shows hosted by the winsome Carlo Conti. (This last is a joke. This guy is like a nightmarish cross between Howie Mandel and Bob Barker.)

We've tasted many good-to-marvelous wines. Unfortunately, it may all come down to "let's make a deal." Interesting point: you taste so much during the day, all you want at dinner is a Coke or a beer. A beer. Then bed as early as possible.

Next up a minor detour of 4-5 hours to the Maremma, then Veneto. The new car (a Fiat Bravo of all the damned things) seems to be functioning well. It even has 6 gears, which leads one to hope. vroom vroom -- in little letters.

   

 

A visit with a winemaking friend

Jeff and I spent a night at Gianpaolo Paglia's house in the Maremma at mid-harvest.  Everyone was very busy, but our friend GPP is a gracious host and took out some time to chat, taste and take us to dinner.  

His winery, Poggio Argentiera, produces wines that rely heavily on local grape varieties -- Morellino (a subtype of Sangiovese adapted to the hot, dry Maremma climate and sandy soils) and Ansonica as well as compatible "imports" such as Cab Franc and Syrah. 

 

Poggio Argentiera (loosely translated, "silvermine hill") covers 22 hectares/55acres. This is Podere Keeling, the vineyard named for Justine Keeling, Gianpaolo's wife

We tasted the full array of Gianopaolo's wines.  The older vintages had lots of power -- were rather New World in style, the "big reds" in particular. The new vintages keep the power but embrace elegance; they are much more balanced, interesting and satisfying. His base white, 80% Ansonica and 20% Vermentino, "Guazza" (Dew) is crisper and more refreshing than before. 

With his cellarmaster and second in command, Antonio Camillo, Paglia makes a couple of extraordinary wines, one a Sauvignon Blanc ("Alture" or Heights) that is about as far from the overly aggressive New Zealand style as possible, but clearly not French either. The other is a compulsively drinkable Ciliegiolo with the brand name "Principio" (Beginning).  A damned auspicious one at that.

Here are a few photos of the visit to Gianpaolo's.

  

Gianpaolo keeps Jeff informed

In this beautifully composed shot, you will see Antonio Camillo as he flees from the American paparazzo

Gotta have the product shot.  "Bucce" (Skins) is a new entry, 100% Ansonica which spends 5-6 days touching its own skins and 18 months on the lees in cement and large oak.  Big, tannic, complex, intriguing.  

A peak experience in Modena

On our last stop before heading to Rome for the flight home, Jeff and I stopped at an enormous wine installation outside Modena.  We were there specifically to discuss the wines of of producer whose methode Champenois Lambruscos make the designation "Lambrusco" seem pathetically undescriptive and unjust.  (Made from the Sorbara subvariety, not the more common Grasparossa.)

We had tasted the wines at Vinitaly.  We liked them then and loved them now.  Stay tuned for further developments.

The CEO, heard that we have our wines in several Mario Batali restaurants here in New York.  He insisted on taking us to lunch at Hosteria Giusti, an old and very small restaurant in the center of Modena, since the late Adriano Morandi and Batali's father struck up a friendship many years ago, and it is been carried forth by the younger generation.  Here Matteo Morandi runs the place with the kitchen magic of his sister Cecilia and especially his mother Laura.

You enter the restaurant through the salumeria ("Enogastronomia Famiglia Morandi"), which faces the arcade running down the length of the street.  The enogastronomia is a small jewel of the finest foods of the region -- the best salamis and prosciuttos, cheeses, breads, wines, olive oils, Modena vinegars -- and the aromas are intoxicating.

You step past the counters, down a couple of steps, zigzag a bit and find yourself in a traditionally-decorated Italian dining room. (Heavy on the lace.) Roughly 14-16 people at a time eat as well as anywhere in Italy, I imagine.  

The walls are lined with relics of old vertical tasting dinners -- Ch. Petrus springs to mind -- and old pictures of Modena and the Morandi family. 

By the way, there is another entrance, outside of which is a tiny courtyard area for drinks. The name of the street is Vicolo Squallore -- Squalor Lane.  If this be squalor, roll me in muck.

The meal was by no means one of those gut-busters that Italy so often presents to you at midday.  But it was probably the most satisfying meal either Jeff or I had ever had.  The starter was a small zucchini stuffed with pork and parmigiano, delicately spiced, prepared in a big padella (skillet).  The cotechino fritto with zabaione, which is featured in one of Batali's books, is a stunning marriage of savory and sweet -- and, by the way, a superb pairing with the most fined of "our" producer's spumantes. 

Aside from the spectacular "home cooking" (which it is if your mother is a culinary genius with her pick of the best ingredients anywhere), the warmth and good humor of the Morandis made a marvelous meal an unforgettable experience. 

Matteo was proud of the Batali connection and noted that several of his family's recipes had shown up on Mario's menus. "We are collaborators," he beamed.

By the way, Hosteria Giusti is booked till February at this point. Reserve your part of the table, hock your diamonds and GO. Telephone: +39 059222533

Buon rientro

Good to be home

The recent trip alternated between frustration and delight, depending on the Wow Factor of the wines we found. Between us Jeff and I dipped into five regions' wines. As he says, "You have to kiss a lot of frogs" -- before you find your prince.  

Frogs there were aplenty. The worst wines we tasted were pretty awful. How anyone imagines a market for such stuff, I'll never understand. 

Yet there were enough pleasant surprises to keep us forging onward. We were given a couple of very simple and low-cost wines, red and wine, from a producer in the Montecarlo area near Lucca.  Amazing price/quality ratio. Very cheap wine but excellent for by the case or by the glass sales.  Decent everyday vino.

Some excellent stuff from a winemaker up in Veneto. A good Pinot Grigio is something that, frankly, we need for our portfolio: shelf space and cashflow. Jeff found a very good one. And a still Durello! Who ever heard of such a thing? 

In Marche -- well we ran the gamut from expensive plonk to reasonably-priced wines of real character. Both the reds and the whites are interesting and toothsome. (Can one say "toothsome" with reference to wine?)  

And in Emilia-Romagna (at Modena, hometown of Pavarotti) we had a peak experience of sorts concerning both wine and food. More about part of that on mondosapore within a day or so. 

 But now we're back and the haunch of the selling season is here. We have lots of new stuff to peddle and are pumped about that. For the moment, forgive my jetlag...

10 days, 300 wines

Not really. We really have 9 days in Italy and will taste the juice of at least 30 producers between us, Jeff and I. We don't usually do drive-bys although this time we've asked some producers to send samples to where we'll be staying a few days near Lucca. Then we split up and hurtle through the country to different regions. 

The aim of all this running around is, of course, to find good wines that will enhance our portfolio. And any we agree to take on won't be available in the USA for a minimum of six months. We've got used to the excruciatingly slow process, but we don't exactly love it. We can't blame government bureaucracy for most of the delays -- very often it's us and the producers slowing things down together. 

1. We don't submit labels for approval fast enough. The producers don't get the labels to us fast enough. Our logistics/compliance company, like, forgets stuff. Getting corrections can take weeks when it should take a day, maybe.

2. We don't like the pricing and terms.  The producers don't like them either. It can be like a war of attrition to come to an agreement.  After a couple of iterations if there's no agreement, we walk away. That's become a simple way of indicating our displeasure. It may or may not get the producer back to the negotiating table. Believe me when I tell you we always have a backup producer to resort to.

3. We tell the producers when the target shipping date is. Quite often they view the schedule in Italian and not American terms. Hey, people, we have seasonal timetables over here, and it's a lot more cutthroat than in Italy. When we say it WE MEAN IT. Get the finger out, will ya?

The upshot of all that means some wine takes a very long time to get here -- when we can fit it into another container, for example. If it's something very seasonal like a rosato, we don't order it till the next year. And no one is happy about that.

On the domestic front...

We'll have some great news soon about one or more new states where Domenico Selections wines will be found. It's a damned good sign for a start-up importer in the midst of the Great Recession. 

Going home

My other home, I mean

I was last in Italy just a few months ago.  No, two-and-a-half months ago, to be precise.  I miss it greatly, even if I do NOT miss the discomforts of constant traveling.  But oh, the food, the wine, the people, the pretty old towns, the ugly edges of the cities, the language, the bitchy shop personnel, the herds of bovine tourists -- I miss it all.

Next month Jeff Mazen and I are heading back to Italy to visit some winemakers and, we hope, find some new producers to represent here in the US.  First we head to Tuscany to meet with an up-and-coming consulting enologist, then we'll split up and cover different territories.  Before we leave the land of the Etruscans, I hope we see our buddy Gianpaolo Paglia of Poggio Argentiera. 

I'd love an excuse to visit Sicily, though I suspect the Marche will be more in my itinerary; I do go for those rossi piceni and rossi di Conero.  (NB:  It's pronounced CON-ero, not CoNEro, which sounds like pseudo-Spanish.) 

And maybe I'll get to Urbino at last.

  

      

Angelarosa 2008s: First tastes

May 13, Santa Paolina (AV)

Last week I made my way down to the province of Avellino from a couple of stops in Tuscany.  My first stop was with one of our producers, Azienda Agricola Angelarosa, which is headed up by a long-time grape farmer, Nunzio Aurisicchio and his wife, Flavia.  The main reason for my brief visit: to taste the new vintage of their excellent whites, none of which were in bottle in early April at Vinitaly.  They still aren't, but what I tasted a week ago is pretty much what will be in bottle after the first of June. 

Last year was an interesting one in terms of weather in almost all of Italy.  In Campania they had none of the problems of early-season cold and incessant rain, which plagued many northern zones.  There was a cooling trend with rain late in the season, however, which complicated the maturation of the fruit and the harvest.

As a consequence, Nunzio's 2008s are quite different from the 2007s, a hot year that made the wine quite striking -- perhaps a little too much so for some.

Since I'm not one for long, highly descriptive tasting notes (I usually steal Ken's -- but this time he was at language school in Montepulciano), I'll give you what I have.  I can contrast the two vintages effectively, I think, so if you've tasted any of these wines before, or if you know the production zone and varieties, well, you have some basis of informed comparison. 

By the way, almost none of these wines touch any wood.  (The last wine is the sole exception.)  Their varietal character is strong and focused.

FALANGHINA L'AMBRIANA IGT 13%

Still lovely, floral with excellent fruit, varietally true.  Less highly perfumed than the 2007.  This is 100% Falanghina.

CODA DI VOLPE 13%

This wasn't bottled as a 100% varietal last year; it was added as a tiny (<10%) component to the Greco di Tufo.  This has a wonderful saline, mineral quality which, no doubt, contributes to a slightly bitter finish. There's a varietally typical zip of spiciness at mid-palate.  Highly interesting, rather unusual to have in purezza.  I'd like to import a small amount but hesitate -- it will be a hard sell. 

FIANO DOCG 13% 

This is an extraordinary vintage for Fiano.  This one is profumato, more floral than most Fianos. Absolutely wonderful and varietally true -- just better than the average Fiano.  The 2007 was restrained and correct, this one is more full and vivid.  Wow.

GRECO DI TUFO DOCG 13% 

This is always Angelarosa's best wine, their calling card.  The 2008 is much more delicate and less aggressive than the 2007.  Greco di Tufo can be hard to take unless you're a hopeless fan.  This one should have more appeal.  Clean, elegant, sfumato (nuanced) and elegant.  (I had to say "elegant" twice.)

GRECO DI TUFO TARDIVA VENDEMMIA DOCG

This is an experiment.  Nunzio harvested these grapes 5 days after the others, let them rest on the lees for several weeks and has fermented and stored the juice in acacia botti.  The wine is scheduled for bottling in the autumn and will be released in about a year.  Now a deep golden color, you can definitely taste the special flavor of acacia in this wine.  It was interesting but I'll have to wait and see if the wood retreats to the background, as it should.  I'll keep you posted.