Boccella’s 2006 Campi Taurasini “Rasott”

After the veritable flood of provocatvive remarks (more like a drizzle really…) that came crashing through the gates in response to Thursday’s post on the ethics of accepting wine samples for review, today I’ll get right down to business.

After digging around for historical information about the relatively new Italian wine designation of Irpinia Campi Taurasini, I can more than sympathize with Il Signor Cevola’s frustration over the lack of a central repository of information on Italy’s DOCG system. If you think it’s tough digging up info on the 40+ Italian DOCGs, just try doing the same for any of the hundreds of Italian DOCs. If there’s an authoritative, up-to-date source on the web, I couldn’t find it. Let me know if you can.

At any rate, here’s what I was able to cobble together, using my far less than utilitarian grasp of the Italian language and stopping a step or two short of the outer limits of my patience.

Irpinia was first proposed as a DOC zone in 2003 and ratified as such in September 2005. The designation "Campi Taurasini," one of several subsets of the broader Irpinia DOC, is specific to Aglianico based reds from the “Taurasian Fields” – my translation, feel free to improve upon it – in the hills east of Avellino. The delimited area is inclusive of the entire Taurasi DOCG zone plus seven additional communes. Wines from Campi Taurasini, as with Taurasi, must include a minimum of 85% Aglianico, with allowance for blending other “non-aromatic” local red varieties. The nine-month aging requirement for Campi Taurasini, however, is considerably shorter than the obligatory three years for Taurasi. Wines can be released to the market as early as September 1 in the year following the harvest.

Campi Taurasini “Rasott,” Azienda Agricola Boccella 2006
About $22. 14.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Domenico Selections, New York, NY.
Per the Domenico Selections website (importer Terence Hughes sent me two sample bottles for review consideration), Boccella’s Campi Taurasini is varietal Aglianico from young vines planted in limestone and clay dominated soil at 800 meters altitude. The Boccella family farms organically and bottles their reds without fining or filtration.

That latter factoid presents itself quite clearly (unclearly, actually) in the glass, as a fine cloud of particulate matter hangs in liquid suspension, giving a slightly murky appearance to the wine’s otherwise deep blackish-red hue. Initial aromas of cherry fruit, tobacco and cedar unfurl to scents of blackberries, grapiness and, with more time in the glass, a touch of pruniness. In the mouth, sweet red fruit hits first – dried Montmorency cherries in particular – laced with herbal flavors of rosemary and bay leaf. There’s an edge of grape and wood derived tannins that call out, along with that cedary oak influence, for pairing this wine with grilled red meats. The wine handles its relatively high alcohol (14.5%) well; you’ll know it’s there via body and texture but there’s no hint of heat on the finish. Surprisingly fresh, medium acidity helps the whole package along and actually helps make it more food-friendly. In spite of the meat pairing suggestion above, I found it perfectly viable alongside pasta with a sauce of tomatoes, onions, ceci, olive oil and rosemary – a touch big-boned perhaps, but it still worked.

Will I be running out to buy a truckload? Probably not. But I’d happily order a bottle were I dining in a Southern Italian restaurant savvy enough to give it a place on its wine list. It’s a solid wine that gets extra marks from me for its freshness and persistence.

Faults? It’s facile enough to demonize filtration for potentially robbing wines of some of their natural character but here’s a case where I think a light filtration might have been to the wine’s benefit. Aside from that, I really have to stretch to find anything at issue.

Why am I going looking for faults rather than simply being open to noticing them? The quandary I mentioned in my procedural post of Thursday turns out to have what may be an unexpected twist. Rather than being kinder or gentler to a wine because it was received as a sample from a friend, I found myself being even more intensely critical than usual. In that context, I’m glad Terry sent two bottles – I told you he’s a smart guy – as the second bottle didn’t just show better than the first, it also gave me the opportunity to relax into the tasting experience, to get to know the wine better, to accept its bumps and wrinkles as a natural and complementary part of the whole.