A Vertical Tasting of "Torbido!" with Peter Weimer and Romy Gygax of Cascina Ebreo

As if last Friday's dinner at Alto wasn't serendipitous enough for the gathering it afforded of the "Mt. Rushmore of wine bloggers," it also gave me the chance to catch up with a couple of folks I'd last seen when in Piedmont earlier this year.  Did I mention they just happened to be the evening's guests of honor?

What we'd all convened for was the opportunity to taste a vertical of every vintage yet bottled of "Torbido!," the signature wine produced at Azienda Agricola Weimer-Gygax Cascina Ebreo, and to do so in the company of Cascina Ebreo proprietors, Peter Weimer and Romy Gygax.  This was my first time joining company with Romy but I'd had the unexpected pleasure of meeting and tasting along with Peter Weimer when he was invited by his friend, Federico Scarzello, to present Torbido! to a small group of journalists, myself included, who had signed on for a vertical tasting of Scarzello Barolo that had been officially organized as part of the Spring 2010 edition of Nebbiolo Prima.

Peter Weimer, in the Scarzello tasting room in May 2010, and his wife, Romy Gygax.  I somehow neglected to snap a photo of Romy on Friday, so I've borrowed her pic from elsewhere; hope you don't mind, Romy.

Peter and Romy purchased the property known as Cascina Ebreo ("Jew Farm," as DoBi so succinctly translates it), situated next door to Elvio Cogno in Novello, in 1991.  Two years later, they left their home and former careers in Swizerland — Peter, who is German, was an engineer, and Romy, of Swiss descent, a banker — to take up permanent residence at their estate on the Ravera hill above Barolo.  What vines already existed on their property were in such neglect that they saw no choice but to grub them up and plant anew.  Peter, I think, looked at this as a positive, as he would be able to work with his own vines, his own babies, to learn how they grow and behave from youth onward to maturity.  What the couple chose to plant, on their 2.1 hectares of vineyards, were Nebbiolo (1.1 ha), Barbera (0.6 ha), and, nontraditionally for the area, a little bit (0.4 ha) of Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon.

1999 and 2001 Torbido!, tasted in Barolo in May.

In 2006, their first vintage, only a Barbera was produced.  With the 2007 vintage, "Torbido!" was born.  Produced entirely from Nebbiolo grown on the Weimer Gygax estate, the wine sees a vinification and aging regime that, in combination with its origins, should by all rights lay due claim to the title of Barolo.  When Peter submitted a bottle of his 1997 Nebbiolo to the tasting panel for DOCG approval, the panel deemed his wine of very fine quality but too cloudy/muddy (torbido) to meet with the "typicity" for Barolo.  (Peter, who bottles his wines without filtration, thinks the panel members must have shaken the bottle prior to pouring.)  Though given the opportunity to submit another sample, Weimer rebelled, instead personally choosing to declassify the wine to Vina da Tavola status and to name it "Torbido!" — a snub of the nose to the tasting consortium and a statement of pride regarding his own farming and production techniques.  Peter and Romy have stuck with the decision ever since.

Though Peter does not consider himself part of the "natural wine movement," or of any movement for that matter, he does consider his wines to be very natural.  Farming on the estate is entirely organic, with application of some biodynamic practices as seen fit.  Aside from two pumps that are used to move the wines from place to place, no technology is utilized in the winery.  All of Peter and Romy's wines are fermented on their native yeasts and bottled without fining or filtration; the only thing ever added throughout vinification,  elevation and bottling is a small quantity of sulfur dioxide.

Torbido! is produced only in what Weimer and Gygax consider to be excellent years.  The wine — again, it's always and only Nebbiolo — is fermented without temperature control and typically undergoes a maceration of 14-18 days (up to 25 in some years) in tank, with a floating cap and occasional pump-overs.  The wine is then aged for three years in 600 liter tonneaux of French oak, in which malolactic fermentation naturally occurs during the summer following harvest.  After three years, the contents of the tonneaux are blended in inox tanks, where the wine is allowed to harmonize for six months prior to bottling.  Finally, the wine ages in bottle for another two years before being released to market

Weimer and Gygax release "Torbido!" only in what they consider to be high quality vintages.  The wine dinner at Alto presented us with the opportunity to taste every single vintage of Torbido! thus far released: 1997, 1998, 1999, 2000, 2001 and 2004.  I had tasted the 1999 and 2001 vintages during that surprise meeting with Peter earlier in the year and had enjoyed them both for their combination of power and clarity of expression, so was looking forward to revisiting them in the mix with their older and younger siblings.

All of the evening's wines (including a spectacular bottle of 2002 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Riserva "Monfortino") were provided from the personal cellar of Dino Tantawi (at left above, with Peter Weimer), owner of Vignaioli Selection, Cascina Ebreo's US importer.  Dino offered the Monfortino as counterpoint to Peter's "Limpido!" — his doubly-declassified Nebbiolo from the difficult 2002 vintage.  Though the Monfortino was fabulous (no problems for Roberto Conterno in '02), Dino's demonstration wasn't without merit: the 2002 "Limpido!" was showing very well, and a case of it can be had for about the same price as, maybe even less than, a single bottle of Conterno's Monfortino.

The wine of the moment, and my favorite Torbido! of the night, was the 1998, open-knit and giving, all elegance and prettiness, an excellent expression of the sometimes delicate, feminine side of Barolo from the Novello district.  If I were to look at a vintage to lay down for the long haul, it would be the 2004; all primary fruit and coiled up muscle now, the wine shows excellent balance and a fine integration of fruit and wood components, tannin and acidity.  Both the 2001 and 1999 were showing well, very much as I remembered from this spring — the '99 riper and more opulent (and apparently Peter's favorite), the 2001 more tannic and classic in style.  The 2000 Torbido!, though not among my favorites of the evening, was a pleasant surprise; not at all overripe or nearly so developed as many other wines from this dry, hot (and initially severely overrated) vintage, it showed surprisingly bright acidity and chewy tannins.  The only weak point in the lineup, though I didn't find it anywhere near as objectionable as did Brooklynguy, was the 1997.  A tough year for a first release, '97 was another hot, ripe vintage and this, unlike the 2000, has developed notes of advanced maturity and fading fruit along with a corpulence of texture not quite supported by its lower-acid structure; that said, it was the favorite of at least two other guests.

Federico Scarzello, at left, with Alto owner/operating partner Chris Cannon.

In a reversal of good fortune, Federico Scarzello was also in attendance at the Torbido! dinner.  It was no fluke, though, nor entirely a surprise; Scarzello's wines are also imported by Vignaioli, and Federico had led a group through a retrospective tasting of his family's Barolo over lunch at Alto earlier that day.

Federico Scarzello and Peter Weimer in the Scarzello cellar, May 2010.

Though it didn't come up over dinner, Peter told me earlier in the year that, beginning in 2011, he will be handing over farming and winegrowing responsibilities at his estate to Federico Scarzello.  Peter no longer feels up to the rigors of working the fields and cellar on his own.  He now prefers to hand over the reins to a friend — he's known the young Scarzello since 1986, when Federico was still a teenager — rather than to sell to an unknown quantity.  It seems likely that Peter's label and the Cascina Ebreo name will be maintained, with an indication that the wine is produced and bottled by Scarzello; however, the finer details have not yet been determined.

What's most important to Peter is that respect for his land and vines be maintained,  That's something, in turn, I think we can all respect.

Az. Agr. Weimer Gygax, Cascina Ebreo
Località Ravera, 3
I-12060 Novello (CN)
Italia

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1964 Oddero for the Birthday Girl

A birthday celebration for a good friend. Birth year wine, courtesy of her husband. A meal prepared especially for the occasion and the wines by Chef Pierre Calmels at Bibou, one of my favorite restaurants in Philadelphia. Was I to turn down an invitation like that? Hell no! It was an honor and pleasure to join in for the festivities.

While the anticipated bottles of the night waited in the wings, we got things rolling with some fantastic grower Champagne from Laherte Frères (more on that at a later date).

Chef Calmels' trout gravlax — diced, ringed with cucumber, drizzled with basil vinegar, and topped with baby mustard greens — was one of the stand-out dishes of the night and a lovely match with our bubbly. After another course or two (corn soup with duck prosciutto, a terrine of sweetbreads), it was time to visit the birthday girl's wines.

All I can say is, "Thanks, Kelly, for being born in a good year." I'm a year younger (I'll leave the math to you, kind reader) and was not so lucky. In fact, I've yet to even have a wine from my own birth year, generally considered fair at best, more often bad to worse, in just about every wine growing region on the planet.

These '64s from Oddero, though, were drinking impressively well. My pal Bill had picked them up, especially for Kelly's birthday, from a shop that occasionally buys and sells wines from private collections. While the corks in both were showing their age, crumbling upon extraction, both wines were startlingly young in both appearance and structure.

The 1964 Barbaresco, I think we all agreed, was the wine of the night, still showing a dark red, only slightly going-to-garnet color in the glass; a rich, supple texture; and fruit tones that started out surprisingly primary then took on aromas of spice, roses and dried red fruits with air. The '64 Barolo, in comparison, was a touch darker, similarly evolved but much more brooding and animal in its aromas and textures, showing even greater overall youth and, as expected, more muscular structure. Both wines were a joy to experience but both, I feel, could easily have continued to develop for another couple of decades (though perhaps not without being re-corked).

Of the dishes that Pierre matched to the old Barbaresco and Barolo, my favorite was a last-minute surprise: veal ribeye and baby brussel sprouts on a bed of white bean purée and veal jus. Executed perfectly, the dish was a very fine match with the aromatic complexity and mid-life structure of our two Nebbioli.

Having been clued-in to the birthday girl's surprise, I'd brought along a much younger bottle from Oddero, their 2006 Barbaresco "Gallina." You know, simply for academic purposes. It, too, was on a good night, pure and vibrant, as surprisingly approachable in its near-sinful youth as the '64s were surprisingly youthful in their... well, like I said, you can do the math.

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Luna, Nebbia and Alba Over the Bricco delle Viole

Here's a second consecutive post in the déjà vu all over again department. I'm guessing that close to half of those reading this will already have seen the above photo courtesy of my pal Jeremy, who posted it this morning over at Do Bianchi. What can I say? The picture is just too beautiful not to share as widely as possible.

The image was sent to the both of us by our mutual friend, Giuseppe Vajra, scion of the G.D. Vajra estate in Barolo. You really do need to click on the photo to view it in its full glory. I don't often upload photos in unedited/uncompressed format but with this it was a must. Giuseppe snapped the shot in the wee hours of the morning, at 6:35 AM to be exact, on October 5, 2010, from the western slope of his family's plot of the Bricco delle Viole vineyard.

From A Wine Atlas of the Langhe:

"Bricco Viole belongs to the district of Vergne di Barolo and its charming name (literally, 'violet hill') is a reminder of the flowers that bloom here in springtime. And of course, violets are very much part of the aromatic profile of Barolo. This great vineyard can be clearly seen from the road that leads from the centre of Vergne to La Morra."

I love the way Giuseppe's photo gives no indication whatsoever that the terrain is one defined by vines, yet it nonetheless captures the essence of the Barolo landscape. Rugged but peacefully rolling hills and the valleys between them, the fog ("nebbia" — you'll see it in the depression between the slopes when you enlarge the photo) so omnipresent in the area, and the influence of both the sun and the moon on the land beneath... they're all there. The color of the sky, too, is simply enchanting; perhaps closer to indigo than violet on the ROYGBIV spectrum, but close enough to lend a poetic nuance to the photo's subject.

If you've any doubt of what I'm talking about, just compare Giuseppe's wee-hours photo to the mid-day shot directly above, taken by one of my traveling companions, Eric Tuverson, during a visit with Giuseppe's father, Aldo, in February 2006. The perspective is different but the flow, the hills, the essence are the same. Also, bear in mind that Alba, the name of the city central to the overall Barolo zone, literally means "dawn" in Italian. While Giuseppe and Aldo produce a single vineyard Barolo from their plot of Bricco delle Viole, their flagship Barolo, a multi-vineyard blend from parcels in Coste, Fossati and La Volta, is called Albe — "the dawns."

I truly do love Piemonte; there's something about it that just pulls me in, makes me feel rooted, at home. Thanks for sharing, Giuseppe. This is as much your post as it is mine, my friend. Un abbraccio!

Intro only...

Barolo and Barbaresco Reference Tools

Not to beat a cavallo morto but I'm guessing at least a few folks out there are as enamored with — and interested in learning as much as possible about — the wines of Piedmont, and in particular the Langhe, as am I. Following in the wake of my last two posts, which each touched on the wines and nomenclature of a particular vineyard in the township of Serralunga d'Alba, I thought I'd share with you a couple of the resources I find most valuable when researching the wines, wineries and vineyards of the Langhe.

Those who have been reading here for quite a while (and who are in possession of elephantine memories) may recall a short review that I published back in early 2009, when I was hosting "A Passion for Piedmont," a monthly installment of the now apparently defunct meme called Wine Blogging Wednesday. Here's what I penned at the time:

"When it comes to learning about Piedmont wines, Slow Food Editore’s A Wine Atlas of the Langhe: The Great Barolo and Barbaresco Vineyards is a fantastic resource. It’s not exhaustive, by any means, as it jumps straight to the top of the heap, focusing entirely on the Nebbiolo-based wines of Barolo and Barbaresco. More importantly, it focuses on the great vineyards of the two zones and includes in-depth information about the best and most storied producers in each locale, along with excellent photography and useful maps and statistical data."

With one minor exception (which I'll address later), I stand by those words. A Wine Atlas of the Langhe remains one of my go-to reference tools for the Barolo and Barbaresco zones. The book opens with chapters that cover the history of the Nebbiolo vine as well as of the viticultural practices traditional to and required in both Barolo and Barbaresco. From there, the atlas is divided into geographical sections, one for each of the townships or municipalities that make up the overall B&B zones.

Within each section, you'll find an overview of the history of the commune, viticultural statistics, a map of the primary vineyards and, most importantly, a reasonably detailed description, including recommended producers, of each of the named vineyards within the village. At the end of each chapter are short biographical entries regarding "The Greats of Barolo/Barbaresco," iconic producers such as Giulio Mascarello (Bartolo's father), Renato Ratti, Giacomo Conterno... the list goes on. High quality photographs, topical sidebars and points of interest for visitors to the region are peppered throughout.

Originally published in Italian in 2000 as Atlante delle vigne di Langa, then translated and issued English in 2002, there have of course been some minor changes to the statistical information such as acreage devoted to particular vines, but that's a minor quibble. The book remains relevant and a very well written guide. The only revision I'd make to my original assessment is relative to the maps, which, though still useful, are in retrospect somewhat crude and difficult to read. Which leads me to my other recommendation....

* * *

For great maps, one need look no further than the incredible works of Alessandro Masnaghetti. Alessandro's I Cru di Enogea maps are relatively new to me. I first encountered them within a day or two of first meeting the man responsible for them, during my spring trip to Alba for Nebbiolo Prima. He's been working on them, though, since 2006 and they are clearly a labor of love. Not books but rather fold-out maps, each measures roughly 23" x 33" at full spread and folds to the size of a standard European sheet of paper.

On the A-side of each is a highly detailed, easy to read map, color-coded to identify each major vineyard and with a numeric key that indicates the location of the wineries within the covered commune. I've borrowed an image of one of the maps (below) to give you an idea of what to expect, but as with all good maps the true pleasure is in holding them in your hands, turning them to get your bearings.... All you map lovers out there will know what I'm talking about.

Image courtesy of Enogea.

On the B-side of each map is an equally intricate text-based description of the overall commune in question, followed by in-depth details of each vineyard site, including information such as altitude, exposure, primary varieties cultivated and key bottlings produced, as well as small, black and white maps that delineate the ownership of plots within each cru. There are even Google Earth coordinates included for each vineyard, should you wish to get a satellite's eye view of any particular site.

At present, Signor Masnaghetti has eight maps in production for the Langa: five for Barolo (Serralunga d'Alba, Monforte d'Alba, Castiglione Falletto, Barolo/Novello, and the newest, La Morra/Roddi/Cherasco) and three for Barbaresco (Barbaresco, Neive, and Treiso/Alba). He's also produced maps of the same ilk covering Chianti Classico, Bolgheri and the Alto Adige. Something tells me there will be more to come. Though originally published in Italian, all are available in English, translated by Daniel Thomases.

Masnaghetti's maps are not currently available through Amazon, so I can't provide you with a nifty little link for your insta-shopping pleasure; however, many of them are available here in the US via The Rare Wine Company or from K&L Wine Merchants (search: Masnaghetti). Given the quality of the work that went into them, they're a steal at about $9/per. For any fan or budding scholar of the wines of the Langa, consider them required reference material.

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On the Meaning of Pra di Pò and Prapò

While writing yesterday's piece about Sergio Germano's final vintage of his Dolcetto d'Alba "Pra di Pò," I had a question in the back of my mind, one I'd hoped to address but eventually decided to save for another day. (Today, in other words.) That question — What does "Pra di Pò" mean? — is one I'd pondered for many a year yet never truly been able to answer.

Even one of my go-to references for the region, "A Wine Atlas of the Langhe: The Great Barolo and Barbaresco Vineyards," published by Slow Food Editore, sheds no light beyond, "The derivation of this odd name is unknown...". So, what gives? Let's step back and take a look.

Pra di Pò is one of two accepted names, the other being Prapò, for a vineyard located toward the northern end of the eastern slope of the grand hill that forms the commune of Serralunga d'Alba, one of the primary villages of the Barolo region. Already losing you? Yep, I know it's tough to picture the lay of the land without actually standing there. Even Google Maps and Google Earth don't quite do the job, so you'll have to bear with me when it comes to directions and orientation. Or go to Serralunga and see for yourself.

Maybe the above picture will help. It's actually taken not from Pra di Pò but rather from Cerretta, its somewhat more famous neighbor located north and, as the car drives, slightly uphill from Pra di Pò. That's the town center of Serralunga d'Alba, crowned by its beautiful old tower, that you can see at center toward the horizon. Looking straight down at the slice of Cerretta that dominates the photo, were you to walk just past the ridge line that bisects the photo you'd find yourself in turn looking down at Pra di Pò.

Though the aforementioned "Wine Atlas" seems to suggest that "Pra di Pò" is the preeminent name for the site, looking at it from the wine perspective might lead one to think otherwise. To my knowledge, only the Ettore Germano estate, currently via its head man Sergio Germano, uses the "Pra di Pò" nomenclature, and then only for the Dolcetto that, after the 2008 vintage, will no longer be produced. Germano's cru Barolo from the same vineyard site is named "Prapò," as are all other wines I know of that bear the same cru designation, regardless of producer. (If I'm wrong about this, anyone, please let me know.)

For some time now, I've conjectured that the "Pra" part of "Pra di Pò" was a truncated version of the Italian word for meadow: "prato." It wouldn't be the first Italian wine I've encountered that follows that sort of naming convention, "Pradi___," or "meadow of (fill in the blank)." The question remaining — What does Pò mean? — continues to elude me, though. The river Po comes to mind but, though it does flow through Piemonte, it is not visible from Serralunga; an unlikely answer, it would seem.

In hopes of clarification, I turned to my man of the etymon, linguist extraordinaire Dr. Jeremy Parzen at Do Bianchi. Jar had this to say:

"A quick look at all my toponomastic references for Langa revealed only that "the origins of the strange name of this vineyard are unknown." [Sounds like we may be using the same reference manual.]

The philologist in me wants to think that praepositus (Latin, literally, positioned before or first) could be a possible etymon. And likewise, the linguist in me feels obliged to point out that pra di pò could be false etymology.

More often than not, the origins of these names are found blowing in the wind. Because the toponyms usual predate the abolishment of sharecropping in Italy, the ampelonyms commonly evolved through an oral tradition that defies and denies our desire to know the fons origo or original source of the words."

That positioned before or first interpretation made sense to me, as it would seem to be a logical description of the position of Pra di Pò relative to its uphill neighbor, Cerretta, in relationship to the village of Serralunga itself. (Remember the photo above?) The problem is that such an interpretation assumes that Cerretta would have been held historically in some precedence above Prapò, something that I can not attest to prior to the modern era and that could even now be argued.

I've posed the same question(s) directly to Sergio Germano. If he's able to shed any clearer light on the matter, I'll be sure to report back. If not, and until then, I suppose the meaning of "Pra di Pò" will continue to be a mystery of linguistic history.

In spite of all that lack of clarity, there's one thing of which I'm certain. Dolcetti such as those produced by Sergio Germano are a natural match for one of the traditional culinary products of Piemonte: just barely cured salumi. The salume pictured above was made by Sergio's father-in-law and is sliced and served with great generosity, and as a fantastic foil to the wines, in the tasting room at the Germano estate.

Intro only...

Sergio Germano and the Last "Pra di Pò"

Not long after I opened a bottle of Sergio Germano's 2008 Dolcetto d'Alba "Pra di Pò" to serve with dinner on Friday night, poured a glass and took a first sip, I realized something. It might be the last time I'd ever open a bottle of Pra di Pò. I don't just mean of the 2008 vintage. I mean period. No more Pra di Pò.


Dolcetto d'Alba "Pra di Pò," Ettore Germano (Sergio Germano) 2008
$19. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
2008 was, in some cases, a tough vintage for Dolcetto. In this case, it's turned out to be a lovely one, albeit different than in typical years. Usually fairly intensely structured, even quite tannic, at least by Dolcetto standards, Germano's 2008 "Pra di Pò" is very supple, medium-bodied and a good deal softer than I would normally have expected. That easy feel carries with it classic aromas and flavors of dark red, bordering on black, cherry fruit and a suggestion of ripe plums. Not to harp on the vintage thing but this is ready to roll — and a very friendly foil to all kinds of everyday fare — while most past vintages would have been substantially tighter and more tannic at a similar point on the time line. If you're sitting on a trunk full, drink up and enjoy. Just don't look back for more....

For as long as I've known his wines (and longer), Sergio Germano has been producing two different examples of Dolcetto d'Alba. Both Dolcetti are vineyard designated: "Lorenzino," hailing from a west-facing parcel on the opposite side of the hill from most of Germano's "home" holdings; and "Pra di Pò," from an east facing site on the hillside directly below the terrace, and beyond to the right as one looks down from the hilltop, at the rear of Sergio's home and winery.

When I visited Sergio in May, he told me (among many other things) that 2008 was the last vintage for his Dolcetto d'Alba "Pra di Pò." At what point exactly he decided it would be the last I'm not sure, but at some point after harvesting the fruit for the '08, Sergio grubbed up the Dolcetto vines that his father had planted in 1975. Not long after, he replanted the site to Nebbiolo, in keeping with the remainder of his portions of the Pra di Pò (aka, Prapò) vineyard, one of the prime crus within the municipality of Serralunga d'Alba.

If you look keenly, you can see some of the new plantings of Nebbiolo in the picture above, in the lowest half-dozen or so rows at the base of the hillside. When the vines reach production age, the fruit they bear will most likely be destined for Sergio's Langhe Nebbiolo. When they reach greater maturity, the hope is that their fruit will be of high enough quality to merit inclusion in Germano's Barolo "Prapò."

The decision seems simple enough on the surface. Nebbiolo is economically more rewarding then Dolcetto, after all. Just think of the pricing of that Barolo you've been coveting in your favorite shop, then consider that even entry-level Langhe Nebbiolo tends to fetch a slightly higher price than all but the best, most elaborate examples of Dolcetto d'Alba. All of that said, I don't think Sergio would have made the decision — he is a fan and champion of Dolcetto — if not for the fact that he had recently acquired a "new" plot of 25 year-old Dolcetto vines in the Lazzarito vineyard, closer to the village of Serralunga itself relative to the position of the Germano's cantina on the Cerretta and Prapò hill.

I tasted the first vintage of the Dolcetto from that new site, the 2009, from tank. When ready, it will be christened "Pradone." Though a little early to tell, it struck me as similar to Pra di Pò, perhaps with a touch more brightness in the fruit department. Sergio agreed, also calling it "more typical." As much as I'll miss the occasional bottle of "Pra di Pò" — there are no more in my cellar — there will always be new wines, always new friends. I look forward to getting to know "Pradone."

Intro only...

True Wine: Cappellano, Serralunga d'Alba

Today's post is a continuation of my travelogue from a springtime trip to Piedmont and, more to the point, is my contribution to Cory Cartwright's 32 Days of Natural Wine. Be sure to check it out there in its Saignéed form, and to follow along with the full 32 days of action.

Over the course of ten days wandering the Langhe hills this spring, little was spoken about natural wine, at least not with intention. Plenty was spoken about wine, of course. And plenty of wine was tasted, drunk and enjoyed, some of it over the course of visits with dozens of producers, some of it under more clinical circumstances, and some of it, most enjoyably, over meals with friends, some of them with those very same producers.... Whoever it was that first said that Northern Italians are "cold" clearly hadn't spent much time in Piemontese wine country.

Looking back on the contents of the notebooks I filled during the trip, I can't help but notice certain patterns emerge. For some winery visits, there are pages and pages of notes, from tasting impressions to details about vinification, to the specifics of a given blend or harvest. For others, there's surprisingly little, just some basic impressions, or a curious detail here and there. (Heck, there's always at least some detail; it was me asking the questions and taking the notes, after all.)

Maybe the name of a cat....

Marta
Or the provenance of an unusual piece of equipment....

The rather foreboding basket press still used by Augusto Cappellano was originally "rescued" by Augusto's father, Teobaldo "Baldo" Cappellano (who passed away in February 2009), when he spotted it at the local recycling/smelting center and offered a couple of cases of wine in trade for permission to take it home.

Looking back on those notes, I can't help but realize that sometimes the visits where I wrote the least were those that I enjoyed the most, that flowed the most naturally.

No matter how strictly you choose to define it, I'm increasingly convinced that making natural wine — when it's done right, I prefer to think of it as growing wine — is more about following the rhythms of and respect for life and the land than it is about following any dogma, be it a "natural" or more technically proscribed formula.

When I asked Augusto Cappellano, who's now seen 37 years of age, when he got his start at the family winery, he responded that he'd been helping out since he was born (and doing it full-time since 2003). For him, wine growing was simply a natural first step and has continued, over the years, to be a natural progression.

One could argue that my visit, late on a Saturday morning, was a disruption to that natural rhythm. Hail had struck Cappellano's vineyards in Serralunga the day before, damaging as much as 30% of the set (pre-flowering) clusters. Later that same day, Augusto's mother, Emma Orsi, had fallen down a flight of stairs, breaking a tooth and suffering a mild concussion. Yet there was Augusto, pulling up to the winery gate in his muddy-tired SUV just moments after I'd arrived. I was still wondering if I was in the right place but he was ready to roll. For a winegrower, seeing guests is just another part of the natural, daily rhythm, and Augusto takes it well in stride.

Perhaps Augusto inherited that gift for dealing with natural events from his father. In 1989, after a mud slide took out a significant portion of Cappellano's Barolo vineyards in the Gabbuti cru of Serralunga d'Alba, Baldo decided to replant the roughly one-hectare plot with own-rooted vines of Nebbiolo Michet. That's ungrafted vines: "pie franco" or "french footed" as they're often called in Italy and as they're referred to on the label of the Barolo produced from their fruit. Twenty-plus years later those vines are still thriving, unaffected by phylloxera, even though the soil composition in the vineyard (only about 10-15% sand, along with 30% clay and 50% limestone/calcareous) suggests that it should never have worked, at least not for so long.

The pie franco vines, by the way, produce smaller leaves and berries than do their grafted rupestris cousins, yet the pips are the same size. Augusto therefore removes the seeds from the pie franco must after the first three to four days of maceration to avoid over-extraction.

Marta guards the cellar with her life, making sure the mice don't make off with any more of the wine than mother nature already accounts for through evaporation.

Just as there was little acute talk of natural wine making throughout the trip, most producers were also not particularly predisposed to touting the merits of any particular approach when it came to cellar practices. What was practiced and believed would simply emerge, through the course of observation and discussion. At some estates, it was necessary to read between the lines or to probe for detail; at others, not at all.

Though I don't remember the word ever once being used during our visit, the cellar practices at Cappellano fall clearly and firmly in the traditional spectrum. Only a few wines are produced, all of them varietal.

The wines ferment on their native yeasts in a combination of steel, cement and wood tanks and generally undergo a two-to-three week maceration.


Both of the Baroli as well as the Barbera then spend at least three years, usually more along the lines of four to four-and-a-half, aging in old botti grandi, such as the 50hl casks pictured above.


Lest we overly fetishize the big old cask, though, it's important to remember that at a tiny estate such as Cappellano, with only 3.7 hectares of vineyards under vine, flexibility is key. There's not enough fruit produced in that single hectare of pie franco Nebbiolo, where yields naturally average only 16 or 17 hectoliters/hectare, vintage in and vintage out, to fill one of those 50hl casks. So you'll see botti grandi in the cantina, as well as smaller botti, both round and oval. You'll see foudres. And yes, you'll even see small inox tanks and barriques. Sometimes a barrique really is just a barrique, nothing more than a 225 liter vessel made from wood.

Likewise, farming on the property is entirely organic but Augusto still chooses, as did his father before him, to spray copper and sulfur in the vineyards when needed to defend against rot and mildew, both constant threats through much of the growing season in the Langhe.

Every year brings new challenges and new approahes. In 2009, Augusto took a different approach than usual with his Barolo "Rupestris." All of the wine went through its usual two week fermentation and maceration in steel. After two weeks, he moved half the juice from tank to large wooden fermenters (pictured above), put in a cap of skins, let that cap partially submerge, and then continued maceration with no pumping over for sixty more days. Malolactic fermentation occurred immediately following the primary ferment for the two-week batch but didn't occur until a month after the two-week-plus-two-month lot completed its fermentation and maceration.

As my visit drew to a close, we drank a little Barbera and Barolo, including a beautiful 2004 Barolo "Rupestris," poured from a bottle that had been sitting un-stoppered on the tasting table for two days.

And we finished with a vertical tasting of Barolo Chinato — originally invented by Augusto's ancestor, Dottore Giuseppe Cappellano, in the late 19th Century — going back to the 1905.

Hey, I had to sneak a little humor in there somewhere. Really, we just tasted the current "blue label" release; the rest of the bottles Augusto brought out, one at a time and with both loving care and a sense of fun, from the china cabinet in the winery's decidedly old school tasting parlor.


As always, there were things to be understood from the barrel and bottle, but much more was learned about wine, an entirely human endeavor, through spending a couple of hours with a man and his cat.

Intro only...

Elvio Cogno, Novello

Each afternoon throughout Nebbiolo Prima, following the big morning tastings and a quick lunch, attendees had the opportunity to visit one winery, selected from amongst a number of regional producers participating in the daily event program. From the options for day one, I selected the Novello-based estate of Elvio Cogno, a producer whose wines I'd been wanting to get to know better. What better way than going straight to the source?

It was a beautifully warm, sunny day in the Langhe. As we pulled into the driveway at the Elvio Cogno estate, a couple of us were quite tempted to forgo the customary tasting in favor of a dip in the family's infinity pool.

Any thoughts of a dip in the pool were quickly put aside as current winemaker Valter Fissore and his wife Nadia Cogno (Elvio's daughter) emerged and talked to us a bit about the general lay of the land surrounding their winery. With eleven hectares under vine, the winery sits atop the Bricco Ravera hill, just outside of Novello. The Cogno family has been making wine in the Langhe for four generations. The history of the estate itself, though, is relatively recent, going back just to 1990, when Elvio Cogno left his partnership position at Marcarini to purchase land and establish his own estate.

The hilltop town of Novello, with the Maritime Alps in the background — the view to the south from Cogno's patio.

After the quick geography lesson, it was straight to the winery tasting room, where Valter Fissore led us through the entire slate of wines he produces.

1. Langhe Bianco "Anas-Cëtta," Elvio Cogno 2009
   I think it's fair to say that Cogno's example of Nascetta, a relatively obscure vine indigenous to the Langhe, is one of the best known. Of the 4.5 hectares of Nascetta planted in Novello, 1.5 belong to Cogno, and they've produced this bottling, called "Anas-Cëtta," every year since 1994. Varietal examples of Nascetta such as this were admitted to the DOC discipline under the umbrella Langhe Bianco designation beginning in 2004. As of the 2010 vintage, Nascetta will have its own DOC: Langhe Nascetta.
   
   After a one-day cold maceration, Cogno's Nascetta begins its fermentation on native yeasts in steel tanks. After a short period, 30% of the wine is moved to old barriques for completion of its primary fermentation. After six months on the lees, including batonnage, the two batches are remarried and allowed to integrate in tank prior to bottling. In the 2009 vintage, about 30-40% of the wine went through malolactic fermentation. The end result is a wine of medium body and medium acidity, full of pear fruit and a dash of white pepper, and with a very distinct nose of mustard seed, goldenrod and freshly baked whole wheat bread.
   
   
   Valter Fissore in the tasting room.
   
   
   
   
2. Barbera d'Alba "Bricco dei Merli," Elvio Cogno 2007
   The Bricco dei Merli (vineyard of the blackbird) is a 1.8 hectare parcel located just down the hill from the winery. Amazingly, 30-40% of the fruit comes from 150 year-old, pre-phylloxera "pied franco" vines. The wine is aged for one year in a mixture of new, large casks (new casks here always see Barbera first, before being used for Nebbiolo) and older barriques (which are currently being phased out at the estate).
   
   When first poured, the '07 showed very ripe, slightly pruned fruit. As it opened, though, the wine became fresher and, for this taster, much more delicious. Rich yet nervous, full of fresh blueberry and boysenberry fruit.
   
   
3. Langhe Rosso "Montegrilli," Elvio Cogno 2007
   Speaking with Valter, it's clear that "Montegrilli" is his wine — "mio vino," in his words. It is a 50/50 blend of Barbera and Nebbiolo, co-fermented in steel then aged for about a year in 2nd, 3rd and 4th passage barriques. The Nebbiolo in the blend comes from the best of Valter's young Barolo vines where the fruit ripens early enough to be picked simultaneously and co-fermented with the generally earlier ripening Barbera. The wine shows lovely, opulent aromas, brimming with 2007 character (ripe and forward). It drinks much like the Barbera "Bricco dei Merli" but with sterner aromas, firmer structure and more evident minerality.
   
   
   
4. Langhe Rosso "Montegrilli," Elvio Cogno 2008
   If the 2007 version was Valter's wine, the 2008 is clearly Valter's joy. He calls it his Gevrey-Chambertin. The '08 was produced with the same general disciplines as the '07 but saw a less intensive oak treatment, being aged in botti rather than barriques. Bottled only one month prior to our visit, it was already showing beautifully, with very elegant structure and red-fruited and floral aromatics. Fantastically drinkable.
   
   
5. Barbaresco, Elvio Cogno 2006
   Barbaresco is a new venture at Cogno, produced from a leased 0.6 hectare vineyard of 20-30 year-old Nebbiolo vines in the Montesommo cru of Neive. After a 20-day maceration and fermentation with a submerged cap, the wine spent a little over a year in casks of Slovenian oak before bottling. Very nice if somewhat simple in character, this, like the preceding "Montegrilli," was defined primarily by its elegance, putting it in stark contrast with the majority of 2007 Barbaresci I'd tasted earlier in the morning.
   
   
6. Barolo "Cascina Nuova," Elvio Cogno 2006
   Yielding from young vines (6-12 years) in Novello, "Cascina Nuova" is the most approachable and value-oriented of the four Baroli produced at Cogno. Quite elegant, delicate and fresh in style. It ages for two years in large casks, followed by six months of bottle age.
   
   
   The squared-off inox tanks used at Elvio Cogno were designed not only to optimize use of space (think about the shape of boxed wine vs. bottled wine in a shipping container or on the shelf) but also to facilitate the submerged cap method of maceration that Valter favors.
   
   
   
7. Barolo "Ravera," Elvio Cogno 2006
   "Ravera" is a south-facing single vineyard cru of 4.8 hectares situated in Novello. Cogno's 2006, produced specifically from the michet and lampia clones of Nebbiolo, underwent approximately 40 days of maceration, with pump-over for the first 10-12 days followed by 25-30 days with a submerged cap. It was then finished with 24 months aging in botti. Very young, forceful and somewhat closed at present, but very promising.
   
   
8. Barolo "Bricco Pernice," Elvio Cogno 2005
   Another new wine at the estate, "Bricco Pernice" is a two-hectare plot within the cru of Ravera that is planted entirely to the lampia sub-variety of Nebbiolo, with vines ranging from 10-50 years of age. Its name refers to the prevalence of partridges in the area. After a 30-day submerged cap maceration, it spent 30 months in new-to-Nebbiolo casks (used once previously for Barbera, which takes more kindly to entirely new oak per Valter) and another 12 months in bottle prior to release. Riper and with a more baked-fruit aromatic profile than "Ravera" or "Cascina Nuova." Very well done.
   
   
   
9. Barolo "Vigna Elena," Elvio Cogno 1999
   First produced in the 1997 vintage, "Vigna Elena" is named after Valter's daughter who, at age three, drew the picture that has since become the label art for this cuvée. Now nineteen, Elena is a graphic artist whose more recent work includes the label art for "Bricco Pernice."
   
   The wine comes from a one-hectare vineyard of 29 year-old vines. It's produced entirely from the rosé clone of Nebbiolo, of which Valter is a particular champion in spite of it fairly widely being considered an "inferior" sub-variety. As Valter explains, for this cuvée, which he produces only in exceptional vintages, he's looking for a Burgundian sense of elegance, not power. At eleven years of age, it's showing the encroachment of some maturity along with lovely aromatic development yet is still very, very young tasting. There's a whiff of brett but just enough to add some sauvage interest to the wine's overall character. Oh yeah, the technical stuff: 30-day submerged cap maceration, 36 months in 40 hectoliter casks of Slavonian oak and 12 months of bottle age prior to commercialization.
   
   
   
10. Barolo "Ravera," Elvio Cogno 2001
    Valter was particularly keen to show us his 2001 "Ravera" as it had been selected as the top wine out of twelve 2001 Baroli tasted as part of a Decanter master class on the day prior to our visit. The 2001, aged for one year in tonneaux followed by another in botti, showed a more overt wood influence than its younger counterpart from 2006. It handled that wood with no problem, though, exuding a ripe, dark and beautiful nose full of menthol, teak and dark, spicy fruit. Firm, dusty tannins brought it all together on the palate. Very fresh in color and aroma, this should have a long life ahead of it.

After our tasting, Valter led our small group on a quick tour of the family's recently expanded and renovated winery. Undertaking such work in Piedmont, in Italy in general, takes patience beyond the realm of virtue and into that of absolute requirement. Obtaining the necessary work permits and designing all exterior aspects according to historical specifications often makes such projects take years.

At Cogno, that combination of patience and diligent work have paid dividends in the form of a lovely winery space, not overly large but with enough space to allow for plenty of bottle storage and to facilitate comfortable and efficient work flow, from vinification through barrel aging and on to bottling.

As you'll have surmised if you made it through the technical aspects of the above tasting notes, a variety of shapes, sizes and sources of oak wine vessels are utilized at Cogno, ranging from barriques through the foudres and large casks shown in the above picture above. As it seems is the case at so many producers throughout the Langhe at the moment, Valter is moving more and more away from the use of barriques and more toward medium- to large-scale wood.

Valter has come up with a pretty tidy solution for dealing with those small barrels as they rotate out of the production cycle. Barrique stave fencing, anyone?

Some might view that shift as a step away from modernism and more toward the centrist position on the Piemontese stylistic spectrum. More cynical minds might look at it as following fashion. To me, having visited and gotten a closer understanding of the wines, it seems first and foremost a natural step in the ongoing and ever changing, ever cyclical efforts of a man trying to make the best wine possible from what nature has provided.

In closing, this shot goes out to all the friends and associates I've annoyed (and have yet to annoy) by publishing photos of them here at MFWT over the years. That's me with Valter, the Langhe hills rolling to the horizon.


Elvio Cogno
Località Ravera, 2
12060 Novello (CN)
Italia
Tel. +39 0173 744006

Intro only...

On 2006 in Barolo

After spending the first morning-and-a-half of Nebbiolo Prima surveying the 2007 vintage in Roero and Barbaresco, the final two-and-a-half days worth of big blind tasting sessions were devoted to the various communes of Barolo, largely to the 2006 growing season along with a handful of 2004 Riservas. Relative to our Barbaresco days, the challenges presented in the move to Barolo were no less daunting, the pain even more pronounced given the ever increasing muscle of the wines as we moved from the municipality of Barolo on day two through to Serralunga d'Alba on day four. Yet the overall outcome was more satisfying, more complete, more to my liking. 2006 does indeed seem poised to become a classic vintage for Barolo... but let me not get ahead of myself.

As is to be expected, some patterns did emerge over the course of the three days, especially in terms of general qualities and consistency from municipality to municipality. As in my report on Roero and Barbaresco, let's start with a list — yes, the dreaded list — of the wines that most appealed to my senses.


Barolo by Commune (and number of "normale" 2006s tasted):


Novello (7):

• Barolo "Terlo Ravera," Marziano Abbona di Abbona 2006 – excellent fruit and balance, long finish

Barolo (43):

• Barolo, Bartolo Mascarello 2006 (Barolo and La Morra) – wild and quite tannic, bright fruit
• Barolo, Giorgio Scarzello e Figli 2006 – tar, dark flowers, classic color and nose
• Barolo "Preda Sarmassa," Virna Borgogno 2006 – natty aromas, savory touch of brett, good structure and energy

La Morra (42):

• Barolo "Rocchettevino," Gianfranco Bovio 2006 – classic color, pretty nose, sweet fruit
• Barolo "Rocche dell'Annunziata," Rocche Costamagna 2006 – modern style, open, very well done
• Barolo "La Serra," Bosco Agostino 2006 – ripe nose but balanced, long and textured
• Barolo "La Serra," Eugenio Bocchino 2006 – perfumed, forward, fine structure

Verduno (6):

• Barolo "Acclivi," Comm. G.B. Burlotto 2006 – fresh, snappy, very drinkable

Castiglione Falletto (17):

• Barolo "Rocche," Monchiero 2006 – rose, violet, tar... classic wine, cool texture
• Barolo "Enrico VI," Cordero di Montezemolo 2006 – integrated tannins, high acid, elegant

Monforte d'Alba (36):

• Barolo "San Pietro," Tenuta Rocca 2006 – masculine style, sweet mid-palate, grippy
• Barolo "Bussia," Giacomo Fenocchio 2006 – compelling aromatics; long, tannic finish
• Barolo "Big d'Big," Podere Rocche dei Manzoni 2006 – rich, modern style; good oak/fruit integration

Serralunga d'Alba (31):

• Barolo "Serralunga," Palladino 2006 – masculine and a touch sauvage, classic Serralunga
• Barolo "Margheria," Massolino 2006 – big and brawny but balanced, well done
• Barolo "Cerretta," Ettore (Sergio) Germano 2006 – woody but integrated, well balanced, promising

Barolo Riserva (27 overall):

• Barolo Riserva "Preda Sarmassa," Virna Borgogno 2004 (Barolo) – classic color and aromas, surprisingly soft, becoming
• Barolo Riserva "Preve," Gianni Gagliardo 2004 (Monforte and Serralunga) – serious matter, rich fruit, long finish

Virna Borgogno was the only producer to have more than one wine emerge as a stand-out in my notes from the blind tastings at Nebbiolo Prima. In both cases, it was their Barolo "Preda Sarmassa," a blending of fruit from the crus of Preda and Sarmassa that is aged in a mixture of botti and barriques. Both the 2006 "normale" and the 2004 Riserva stood out for their character and expression, displaying fine balance along with a natural aromatic profile that appealed directly to my senses.

In simple terms, I was left with the impression that 2006 appears to have been a ripe but otherwise classic vintage in Barolo, producing a solid number and wide spread of wines that show elegance, power, and potential longevity yet with the possibility of pleasure for those wishing to drink in the near- to mid-term. I never recommend shopping by vintage but, for those for whom that's the easiest approach, you could certainly pick worse years in which to do so.

Digging deeper, the numbers and results above could easily be misleading if taken at face value. The communes of Barolo and La Morra, the largest in the Barolo zone, anted up with the highest number of bottlings so had statistics working in their favor. Indeed, of the 42 wines tasted hailing from La Morra, four of them were compelling enough to be included in my short list of favorites. Aside from those four, however, I found La Morra to be the least consistent of the major communes, the most prone to wines that showed over-ripeness, jamminess, over-extraction and/or a heavy hand in the oak department. The stuffing was there but, in far too many cases, the upholstery was just too flashy.

Over-ripeness seems to have been a common issue in Barolo itself in 2006, as well. While the majority of wines we tasted from the commune of Barolo seemed to be more comfortable in their own skins than did the wines of La Morra, looking back on my notes I find just as many references to alcoholic heat, stewed or over-ripe flavors, and overtly lush, opulent fruit. What was lacking in far too many cases was exactly what this commune is most know for: elegance. That said, the best wines, in particular the three highlighted above, were very, very fine and true to their origins.

Cutting to the chase, if I were forced under duress to pick a commune in which the 2006 vintage found its clearest, most complete voice, my gut reaction would have to be Castiglione Falletto, with Monforte d'Alba running it very close. In both of these sub-zones of Barolo, I found the greatest consistency of expression, along with the finest balance between elegance and power. Stylistically, as can be expected, the wines ran the gamut from old school to centrist to modernist in terms of oak treatment and extraction, but with a high level of success in all categories. Many producers I had the chance to speak with, particularly in Monforte, spoke of 2006 as a great vintage, among if not at the top of their "favorite vintage" list for recent years. I can see why.

Serralunga d'Alba was no slouch in 2006, either. This commune is known for producing the most muscular, masculine expressions of Barolo and that was in clear evidence throughout our tastings. If there's a downside to that, it's that some of the wines struggled to find a balance for all that power. Also, that masculine expression seems to draw to it a high percentage of modernist approaches in the cellar, with many producers trying to tame savage tannins by coddling the wines in newish or smallish oak. Happily, more producers in Serralunga seem to have gotten that balance right in 2006, and the best wines (see the short list above for a few examples) were truly delicious, and just a little more complete from my perspective than in 2004 and 2005.

* * *

Over the course of our four days of blind tastings, human nature inevitably led most tasters back to the same seat each day. That wasn't a bad thing, in this case, as finding a spot that's peaceful and comfortable goes a long way to helping you get through the tough task of tasting 75-85 Nebbioli at a sitting. I was lucky enough to find my spot (the empty chair in the pic above) at a table right next to Kyle Phillips and Tom Hyland, two well-respected journalists and two of the quietest, easiest neighbors in the room. I'm not sure I've ever seen anyone take such thorough, intensive notes in this kind of tasting format as did Kyle. Tom was no slouch, either, and was also good for an occasional update on hockey scores as the Philadelphia Flyers (my home team) and Chicago Blackhawks (his) both made their ways through the NHL playoffs.

Underpinning the innate fallibility and minimal utility of the large blind tasting format when it comes to appreciating or understanding single wines, I should point out (just as an example, not to single out any one producer) that as much as I enjoyed the Baroli of Virna Borgogno in the blind tastings, I liked the other wines from same producer's lineup less when tasted non-blinded at that evening's walk around tasting in the Castello di Barolo. Conversely yet to the same point, there were many cases where wines that I normally enjoy — from producers such as G.D. Vajra, Elio Grasso and Giuseppe Rinaldi in Barolo, and Cantina del Pino and Produttori del Barbaresco in Barbaresco, just to name a few — simply did not show well in the blind tastings. Some of those same wines showed beautifully, though, when tasted in situ during other portions of my trip.

Painful as was the experience of tasting all those wines in such quick succession, and as futile as it may seem in the context of true wine appreciation, I do think that the insight provided in this context in terms of the big picture understanding of vintage and commune serves a crucial function and was one of the most important aspects of Nebbiolo Prima. Personally, I'm happy to have seen some old favorites emerge among the highlights, and to have discovered some new producers — and opportunities for further exploration — along the way.

Intro only...