Revisiting the Men of Monforte

When last I visited the cellars of Elio and Gianluca Grasso in Monforte, they had just begun an immense, elaborate engineering and architectural project. Their plan: to excavate a tunnel deep below their estate on the Gavarini hillside to provide ample space for barrel storage and, thereby, to open up space in their winery for freer, easier movement in the vinification stages of their wine producing regimen.


Four years later, the barrel chais — pehaps chasm would be a better word — is complete. And it's magnificent. It's more than just eye candy, though. When there's more time to write (meaning, when I get back to the US), I'll fill you in on all the details and share some more photos of my visit with the Grasso family.

That's all for now.... I'm off to the third day of Nebbiolo Prima. A blind tasting of 75 Baroli from the communes of La Morra, Castiglione Falletto and Verduno. And that's just the morning session.

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Southern Exposure

Rémy Charest, author of The Wine Case, is today’s host for Wine Blogging Wednesday #55. He’s asked participants to consider the question of North vs. South in writing about two wines made from the same grape but hailing from different locations, one more northerly than the other. You get the idea…. I decided to take a slightly different approach.

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Have you ever found yourself enticed by the idea of a “bargain” Barolo? (Yes, I’m writing about Piedmont again, just like for last month's WBW.) Ever wondered what the difference is between those two theoretically regal Piedmontese reds sitting next to each other on the shelf, one priced around $30 and the other over $50? If you have, then you know there is a wealth of possible answers. One of the most meaningful, though, happens to be one that I’m guessing might not come immediately to mind: exposure. Not brand exposure, mind you, but vineyard exposure – the position of a site on a hillside and its correlating exposure to the sun’s rays.

You see, Nebbiolo, the noble grape from which Barolo must be produced, is notoriously difficult to grow. Nebbiolo is a very geologically demanding vine, performing best in soils of calcareous marl like that found in Barolo and Barbaresco. It’s also a late ripening variety, requiring a long growing season and plenty of sunlight to achieve full, natural ripeness. In a region as northerly and cool as Piemonte, that means exposure is key to success. Without a south or southwest facing vineyard, it’s all but impossible in typical vintages for Nebbiolo to attain the ripeness necessary for the production of natural, expressive Barolo. It’s no coincidence that the most privileged vineyard sites throughout the communes of Barolo are highly sought after, the land highly expensive.

Sergio Germano, standing atop the hill above his portion of the Cerretta cru in Serralunga d'Alba. It's mid-February and there's nary a trace of snow below, while the vines opposite his hillside are still blanketed with white.
Stand atop any of those south facing, vineyard dominated slopes and look across the valley to the opposite facing hillsides. You’ll almost always see more vineyards. And in many cases, those sites also fall within the geographical boundaries that allow them to produce wines called Barolo. The land on those northerly facing slopes will be less expensive, and all too often owned by less than completely conscientious growers. The fruit on those vines, if they are Nebbiolo targeted for the production of Barolo, is unlikely to ever achieve the levels of ripeness necessary for the natural production of Barolo.

That doesn’t preclude the wines made from those sites from being called Barolo. But it does greatly increase the likelihood that those wines are being made in the winery more than grown in the vineyard, achieving their expected impressive stature more through manipulation than natural fruit maturation.

Just something to think about the next time you find yourself pondering that 91 point, $27 Barolo. How do you feel about risk exposure?

A similar view, pictured on the same day, this time in Monforte d'Alba. In the foreground is Elio Grasso's plot of Ginestra "Casa Maté," fully melted; across the valley, snow covered vineyards owned by other Barolo growers.

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WBW 54 Reminder #2 (including a bonus point challenge) and a Delicious Barbera

The two week countdown has begun for the 54th edition of Wine Blogging Wednesday, which will be hosted right here at MFWT. Just in case anyone missed the original announcement, this month’s topic is “A Passion for Piedmont.” All you have to do to participate is to pick any wine – red, white, rosé, bubbly, sweet… you get the picture – from Piedmont (the northwestern corner of Italy that is, not the middle of North Carolina), try it, write about it and report on your findings. Having your own blog makes it easy but is absolutely not a requirement. You’ll find a more complete description of how to participate back in my original announcement. I’ll post the instructions again as our date – Wednesday, February 18, 2009 – draws nearer.

Castiglione Falletto is just one of the many beautiful hilltop villages in Piedmont's Barolo zone. (Photo courtesy of Alastair.)
I also promised/threatened to issue a bonus point challenge or two as our deadline draws nigh. Just what those bonus points will be worth remains to be determined but, at the very least, you can rest assured that they’ll move your report to the head of the class when I publish the summary of participants. So, without further ado, the first “Passion for Piedmont” bonus point challenge is:

Drink a red wine and a white wine, both from Piedmont and both from the same producer.

Sounds easy enough, right? I don’t hear too many wine bloggers complaining about second bottles. But remember, Piedmont is red wine country. White wines are certainly produced but are fewer and further between than their red brethren. Half the challenge will be in the shopping alone. So get to it. I’ll be interested to see what you find.

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I’ve already been doing a bit of Piedmontese practice – with wines, that is, not the local dialect. For no particular reason, the focus of late has been on Barbera. Here’s a quick note on one that really grabbed me by the bootstraps.

Barbera d’Alba “Vigna Martina,” Elio Grasso 2006
$36. 14.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ; and Martin Scott, New York, NY.
Elio Grasso’s Barbera is made from the fruit of a single vineyard, fermented in steel and then aged in French barriques (half new and half one-year-old) for one year, followed by a minimum of eight-months aging in bottle prior to release. In addition to the wine’s single vineyard origins, it’s really the use of small (and especially new) French oak barrels (as opposed to steel-only or larger casks of Slavonian oak) that would lead some to brand it as “in the modern style.” The structure of Grasso’s Barbera, however, is more than up to integrating and balancing with that oak. In a good vintage it can be quite age worthy and will be outlived, in fact, only by the estate’s bottlings of Barolo. (The label image above is borrowed from the 2001 vintage.)

When I first tasted the 2006 upon release, roughly six months ago, it was tough. Tight’s not the right word; it was disjointed, awkward and ungiving, even if all the parts seemed to be there. Only six months on, it’s quickly coming into its own, showing beautiful concentration and presence. It’s already eaten up the oak, which has left only a nuance of toast and spice, nothing at all to interfere with, much less mask, the wine’s expression. Barbera’s fruit-forward nature is all there, with plums, blueberries and blackberries in spades, but there’s also force and substance. Just as the wine is handling its oak, it’s also carrying its naturally high acidity with ease, showing not a hint of Barbera’s tendency toward tanginess. At the same time, it’s that acidity – along with gentle but perfectly balanced grip – that lets the wine carry its weight and frame with grace. This one’s a baby right now, but already a pleasure to drink.

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Dolcetto d'Alba "Dei Grassi," Elio Grasso 2006

Dolcetto seems to be one of those varieties, much like Cabernet Franc, that gives wines that people either love or hate. I’ve yet to find many if any folks who are simply lukewarm about either. In both cases, I think the negative end of the response scale stems from the challenging aspects of the wines. Intense, occasionally weedy aromatic nature along with a sometimes prickly or lean texture can make the wines so “different” that some just can’t embrace them. For me, the love comes from the fact that both, when produced without a lot of fiddling around, give very characterful, food-friendly wines.

The typicities of Dolcetto, exemplified by soft tannins, low acid and aromas of cherry and tobacco, can make it easy to spot in blind tastings. I’m not sure I’d have easily picked the new vintage of Elio Grasso’s Dolcetto d’Alba “Dei Grassi,” though. It’s particularly dark garnet, almost purple, in the glass. While cherry is present on the nose and palate, it’s a much blacker, sweeter tone than I usually expect, reminding me a bit of Häagen-Dazs’ classic cherry vanilla ice cream. Same, too, of the tobacco: less dried smoking tobacco, more sweet cherry chewing or pipe tobacco. Suffice it to say this is ripe wine.

I opened it on day one to go with simple pasta with tomatoes and basil – a combo I often like with Dolcetto d’Alba for the interplay between the sauce’s high acidity and the wine’s low acidity. Explosive fruit and large mouthfeel made “Dei Grassi” a bit domineering though, while the brightness of the sauce brought out a tinge of heat in the wine. Two days later, the Dolcetto had rounded to a creamier texture with softer tannins. Sweet, black cherry fruit persisted, with hints of ripe blackberry and slightly raisined notes showing through. It paired much more happily with buffalo burgers and roasted sweet potato fries; the protein and richer flavors of the dish helped to balance the wine’s vigor and dissipate its heat.

This is absolutely tasty if somewhat atypical Dolcetto. There are more tannic examples out there but few with this level of richness. It would be a good choice for those with tastes for boisterous flavors looking to explore a wine usually known for a more delicate, medium-bodied delivery. In addition to burgers, it should pair well with carne cruda, sausages, grilled white meats and rich mushroom dishes.

$17. 14.5% alcohol. Natural cork closure. Imported by Petit Pois, Martin Scott and others.

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Men of Monforte

Tasting the 2003 Barolos of Elio Grasso recently, the first thing that struck me was their amazing restraint. In and of itself, that restraint should be no surprise. Grasso is not a particularly modernist producer. Most Piedmont fans would call him a “traditional centrist.” Big, in your face color and texture are not overtly sought nor highly prized. 2003, though, was an incredibly hot and dry growing season in Piedmont, much as it was in Western Europe as a whole. Many wines, whites and reds both, suffered from the heat, showing high, often out of balance alcohol, lower than typical acidity, overripe aromas and over-extracted colors. The elegance and typicity of Elio’s Barolos in such a difficult vintage bespeak not just skilled winemaking – that’s self-evident in all of the estate’s wines – but also great farming. Knowing the man – men, actually – behind the wines, it’s no surprise.

I had the pleasure of visiting the Elio Grasso estate, located in the beautiful hills of Monforte d’Alba, during a trip to Italy in February 2006. After a nail biting descent down an ice covered dirt road, we were greeted at the winery by Elio’s wife, Marina Grasso. Marina informed us that Elio and their son Gianluca were both out at a business meeting with the engineering and architectural teams working on a new underground cellar for the estate. Marina wasted no time in getting us started at the tasting table, graciously walking us through – “Prego! Prego!” – the current releases of their Langhe Chardonnay, Dolcetto d’Alba, Langhe Nebbiolo and Barbera d’Alba.

As Marina moved on to pouring the family’s Barolos, the sound of gravel crunching under wheels alerted us to the arrival of Elio and Gianluca. Sure enough, a few minutes later we were joined by Gianluca who, after greetings and introductions, launched right into a detailed explanation of the special characteristics of each part of their property and the corresponding wines. There was a time when Gianluca, like many sons and daughters of the next generation, was unsure that he wanted a future as a farmer, as a winemaker. Over the last few years though, he’s not only accepted the role but embraced it. As we walked through the cellars and then the vineyards, his knowledge of each barrel and each plot became incredibly clear. As Gianluca talked to us about farming techniques, about the rigors of both the 2002 and 2003 growing seasons and about the fantastic vintage just past of 2005, we began to wonder what had become of Elio. He had returned from town with his son but we had yet to see him.

It wasn’t until the absolute end of our visit that Elio finally appeared. As we turned the switchback out of the Grasso’s driveway toward the road, a portion of the Vigna Martina plot, previously hidden, came into view. There was Elio, the patriarch, pruning shears in hand, working his vines. He’d returned home, changed straight away into his work clothes and headed directly out to the farm, a man at one with his land. Having met both of the Grasso men before, I know that they hold the utmost respect for other producers who do great work in the vineyards and then let their wines speak for themselves. It’s the ideal that Elio – and now Gianluca as well – strive toward. And it’s the only honest way to make great wines in “bad years.”

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Recommended reading:

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