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...

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...

The Big Blind is Over

Ah, the pleasures and pains of blind tasting. I can still feel them.

I've actually returned to home turf now, but I originally started this posting three days ago, mid-way through the fourth and final day of Nebbiolo Prima. The last of the morning blind tasting sessions had just ended and I got a good start on putting the following thoughts in place; however, a lack of spare time and even greater lack of consistent Internet access made it impossible for me to finish until now. In any event, there's no mistaking it: the practice of tasting 75-85 Nebbiolo-based wines per/day, whether from Roero, Barbaresco or Barolo, is painful. Literally painful. I think I lost about half of my gums over the course of the four days of Nebbiolo Prima. Probably a meaningful percentage of my tooth enamel, too.

Blind tasting in such a large, intense scope is entirely different from sitting down with a few friends and a few wines and really getting to know them. It's possible to get a big picture take on a vintage and on the differences and consistencies (or lack thereof) from village to village. Trying to really understand any one, much less each, wine, though, really is impossible. It astounds me that some people actually were assigning points on a 100-point scale to these wines. Impossible. Points aside, the best I could do was try to give an honest and personally meaningful reaction to each wine I tasted, to jot down a few notes on each, and to keep a short list of the handful of wines that most interested or inspired me on each day.

One of the positive outcomes of an important albeit mostly complicated, painful and unpredictable format like this is the possibility of discovering new wines. Wines that you or I may have otherwise not considered or even come across. Such was the case on days three and four of the event, when the wines I'd selected as most complete and personally compelling both came from producers with which I had previously been unfamiliar. The 2006 Barolo "Rocche" from Monchiero and 2006 Barolo "Serralunga" from Palladino were both fantastic wines — balanced and elegant, drinkable yet ageworthy, and expressive of both place and character. Does this mean that I can now wholeheartedly endorse the wines of these two producers? No, but it certainly means that I'll be on the lookout for these and any other wines they both produce, for further investigation and with the hope of similar results.

One of the true pleasures of such a format is that it can also provide an occasional reassurance that you're not fooling yourself into thinking you like something (as opposed to actually liking it). Though I can't say that I identified the 2006 Barolo "Cerretta" of Sergio Germano blind, I can say that it was on my short list of favorite wines from our final day of tasting (which was devoted entirely to the Baroli of Monforte d'Alba and Serralunga d'Alba). It's a wine I've enjoyed year in and out for the last decade, and my reaction to it on the day was a pleasing reassurance that a true wine lover never tastes entirely in the blind.

Intro only...

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.

* * *
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.

Intro only...

For No Particular Reason

Ever have one of those nights when you just feel like getting together with friends and opening up a few interesting bottles?

Rheinhessen Riesling trocken “Von der Fels,” Keller 2002
$20 on release. 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
I’m pretty sure 2002 was the first release of Keller’s “Von der Fels” (“From the Rocks”). Even though I have only a couple of bottles, I felt it was about time to check in on one. I’m glad I did as it’s in a really good place right now, just starting to bridge into the development of some tertiary characteristics. Very fresh and prickly, still showing some residual carbon dioxide when first opened. It quickly rounded out and took on depth and richness with aeration. White peaches laced with lime zest, orange oil and honeysuckle hit the front palate, while a touch of oiliness and salinity follow. This is bone dry but completely physiologically ripe Riesling, loaded with palate staining fruit that shoots sparks across your tongue. With yet more air, rainier cherry fruit and intensely concentrated, almost sour minerality develop. Tremendous length. Lovely wine.


Arbois Pupillin Chardonnay, Emmanuel Houillon (Pierre Overnoy) 2006
$28. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
This showed big time sulfur/struck match aromas when first opened. After a quick and vigorous decant, it became clear that the wine was in a pretty severely reduced state. It showed much better on the palate, though, where I initially found flavors of apple cider and an element that reminded me of Junmai Daiginjo sake. Coming back to it fifteen minutes later, the nose was still full of totally reductive funk. But the wine had gotten even tastier, showing ripe red apple fruit and notes of cinnamon dusted pastry dough. I still had a hard time getting past its nose. Maybe it’s just too young yet, or needs a few hours (or days?) in the decanter.

In the context of my recent posting on wine naming conventions, how does one handle Houillon’s wines? All the bottles name Monsieur Houillon, while one bottle makes no mention of Overnoy, one names Pierre Overnoy and another is labeled as Maison Pierre Overnoy. Meanwhile, there is no visible differentiation in appellation or wine name from bottling to bottling; technically they are all just called Arbois Pupillin. Only different colors of sealing wax (not pictured), used in place of capsules, seem to differentiate one cuvée from the next: pale yellow for the Chardonnay, marigold for the Savagnin and red for the Poulsard.


The de rigueur shot of orange wine, sharing the counter with a Baltimore icon.

We never quite got around to opening Houillon’s Poulsard. But his 2004 Savagnin (the orange wine in the above photo), which had already been open for at least three or four days, was still quite interesting, offering up a nose full of Manzanilla and candy corn aromatics, finished off with tongue-twisting, gripping acidity.


Nahe Monzinger Frühlingsplätzchen Riesling Kabinett trocken, Emrich-Schönleber 2001
$15 on release. 11.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Our brief detour into the Arbois didn’t prevent us from taking pleasure in trying this alongside the Keller. The eye alone, given its deeper golden appearance, was enough to show that this has traveled further along its path of development. But it still has plenty of stuffing and potential. Can there be such a thing as hedonistic Kabinett trocken? This would seem to suggest so, as it offered up voluptuous scents and flavors of clove-poached pears, fresh baked apple pie a la mode and peach cobbler. Did I mention that this is completely dry? And that it paired seamlessly with saba (mackerel sushi)?

This bottling doesn’t exist in the Schönlebers’ lineup any longer, replaced along with their other dry Kabinetts by the non-Pradikat “Mineral.” And wines at the quality level of this and “Von der Fels” no longer exist at these price points ($15 and $20, respectively). Can you hear that? It’s the sound of my teardrops hitting the floor.


Barolo “Cerretta,” Germano Ettore (Sergio Germano) 2000
$50. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Though showing just the slightest hint of its alcohol on the nose, this is nonetheless in a fine place right now. It’s still quite youthful in the fruit department but is soft, round, exotically spicy and sweetly scented. Enjoyably pondering a glass, I was struck with the thought that I’m not sure there’s any vine that takes to oak quite so well as does Nebbiolo. I find the aromatic fireworks that result when it’s done right really hard to beat. Here, it results in classic oak-derived spiciness and warm red floral aromas and scents of rooibos tea intertwined with red licorice and sassafras. The 2000 may lack the acid/tannin profile of a more classic Piedmontese vintage but firm, well-balanced grip still presents itself on the finish.

Ever think of pairing Barolo with chocolate? Don't. On the other hand, this worked surprisingly well with Peking duck, perhaps helped along by the rich fruit and soft texture typical to the 2000 vintage.


Gevrey-Chambertin, Sylvie Esmonin 2005
$60. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
A bit clumsy right out of the gate, the sweet red fruit immediacy of Sylvie Esmonin’s Gevrey was marred at first by slightly disjointed alcohol. It didn’t take long for its grace to emerge, though. Definitely lots of red fruit, both fresh and caramelized. A campfire set in a forest clearing on a nippy fall day comes to mind, not through any overtly reductive characteristics, just through the wine’s overall expression of brambly fruit and energy. Esmonin gets her knocks from some quarters for the concentrated, forward nature of her wines but I dig them. This has a wonderfully barky, sinewy character that helps to back up its boisterous, spicy red fruit. It’s slightly lean yet sappy and generous all at once, topped off with a beguiling nose of sandalwood. I would have guessed, as did Bill Nanson at Burgundy Report, this sees some stems in the vat but Dressner’s page on Esmonin says not.

Intro only...

Wines at Salento

Yep, that’s wines at Salento, not wines from Salento.

When eating at home most nights, casually that is, I always try to select a wine that will match well with the meal but don’t usually quibble over the cultural origins of the dish vis-à-vis the denomination of the wine. When going out to eat at a spot with a specific culinary focus, French or Italian for example, I tend to be a stickler for selecting wines from the same country, even right down to a specific region, to match. When dining at Philadelphia restaurant Salento recently, the choice should have been easy – wines from Salento itself, the heel of the Italian boot. In hindsight, wines from Tuscany and Le Marche down, especially reds from Salento and reds and whites from Campania, would have been perfectly suitable given Salento’s culinary scope.

The problem was, there was nary a thing from the southern extremes of Italy to be found in my cellar and I wasn’t up for a wine shopping excursion as prelude to a casual meal out. Red wasn’t too big an issue as there were a decent number of Tuscan bottles from which to choose. White options, on the other hand, were rather more limited. By that understatement, I mean two, just two measly vini bianci from which to pick. As one was a 500ml bottle of Josko Gravner’s Ribolla Gialla, which I wasn’t about to jostle around town, the decision was made.

Langhe Chardonnay, Ettore Germano 2005
From the opposite corner of Italy relative to Salento, this would normally have been an odd choice for pairing with southern Italian food. No matter, it worked. Sergio Germano could be considered a modernist for growing Chardonnay, not to mention Riesling, in the Langhe and for barrique aging some of his whites and reds. For his Langhe Chardonnay, however, he all but eschews wood – only about 5-10% of the wine sees any barrel time – in favor of a fresh, crisp, food-friendly style. When first released, it can be soft and fruity. With just a little bottle age though, it becomes more Burgundian. His 2005 – the current release is 2006 – smelled funky and wound-up when first opened. I was thrown off as it reminded me more of the tangy green character of a Chablis from Laurent Tribut than the usual Langhe Chardonnay. With a bit of air and warmth, it retained its Chablis-like crispness and raciness but rounded out into an easier drinking wine that paired pretty easily with my garlic-inflected bowl of linguine ai frutti di mare. $16. 13% alcohol. Natural cork. Imported by Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

Indicazione Geografica Tipica Toscana “Fianesco,” Fattoria di Fiano 1999
Given that I was culling from Tuscany, a traditional style of Chianti could have made for a nice partner to my secondo of pork loin, potatoes, pancetta and Brussels sprouts. As the IGT designation suggests though, traditional this was not. A sample bottle received years ago, this had been chilling in the cellar ever since. As I knew little about its specific origins, a bit of research was in order. Fattoria di Fiano is located in the southern portion of the Chianti Colli Fiorentini zone, just north of Classico. According to the notes on Fiano’s website, Fianesco is not entirely untraditional in its blend: 80% Sangiovese rounded out with varying amounts of Colorino, Canaiolo, Merlot and perhaps some Syrah and Cabernet Sauvignon. Its darkness of color, especially for a wine approaching ten years of age (when Sangiovese should be showing some elegant fade), suggested far more than 20% of the non-native varieties. The wine was overtly modern, with big, bold fruit, polished tannins and fairly voluptuous vanillin oak notes. To its credit, it was reasonably balanced, had enough fruit brightness to stand up to the wood and showed slight traces of Tuscany’s expected dusty, spicy tannins. As hinted at above, it was over-matched to my dish and to all but the most red meat intensive of Salento’s dishes. 13.5% alcohol. Natural cork. Sample bottle: price and importer unknown.

Intro only...

Tasting with Sergio Germano

One of the most fulfilling aspects of working in a specialty wine shop is actually getting to know the people behind the products I sell. It’s more than simple “star appeal.” Rather, it’s a humanizing factor which enriches your knowledge and your ability to convey meaningful information to others. Imagine how much more insight you’d have into your favorite novel if you had a chance to get to know the author. It’s like that, but with the sun, sky and land attached.


Over the last five or six years, I’ve gotten to know Sergio Germano through his regular visits to the shop and through the wine dinners we’ve hosted with him. My understanding of the man behind the wonderful wines of Germano Ettore was driven home during a trip to Italy in February 2006. The group I traveled with spent three days at Sergio’s agriturismo. We walked his vineyards, tasted in his winery, breakfasted with his wife – while he worked the cellar – and absorbed the atmosphere of the Serralunga hillsides. And we tasted more wines in one sitting – 25 to be exact, barrel samples included – than at any other stop on our trip. That experience was reinforced just last week, when Sergio stopped by our shop in Wilmington to take our staff members through the entire line-up of his current releases. Following are my tasting notes from the day:

1. Langhe Chardonnay 2005: Sergio’s 2005 Chardonnay went through 100% malolactic, with 5% of the wine spending a short time in barrel to add structural nuance to the finished wine. Lovely fruit, rich lemon and apple flavors with lively acidity. Fully dry but with ripe, sweet flavors. The Chardonnay is not planted in Serralunga but rather in a vineyard about 25 miles away in the town of Ciglie, near the Dogliani zone.


2. Langhe Bianco “Binel” 2005: This is Sergio’s signature white, a blend of 60% Chardonnay and 40% Riesling. The Riesling is vinified in steel, the Chardonnay in small barrels of which 15-20% are new. The richer, more formidable of his two whites, redolent of figs and fresh bread with sweet pear fruit on the palate. The oak-flecked richness is cleansed by ample acidity and by a more evident minerality than in the varietal Chardonnay. With air, the aromatic influence of the Riesling really begins to emerge.
   


3. Dolcetto d’Alba “Lorenzino” 2005: When the ’05 Lorenzino first arrived in our shop a few months ago, it seemed a bit closed. It’s now emerged from its shell, showing classic inky aromas followed by ripe, round cherry fruit and licorice tones on the palate. Good length and very savory with a gentle little grip on the finish. Explosive. Lorenzino is a single vineyard with a relatively rich soil base and moderate yields, always giving the softer of the estate’s two Dolcetti.
   


4. Dolcetto d’Alba “Pra di Po” 2005: With a more calcareous, chalky soil base and naturally lower yields, the Pra di Po vineyard reveals the darker, more structured side of Dolcetto d’Alba. Darker in both color and aromas, with scents of black cherry and brambles. Tannic but round and supple in the mouth. Both Dolcetti are vinified in the same method, in steel with five days of maceration and some pumping over. The differences are all about site.
   


5. Barbera d’Alba 2005: Young vine fruit, again done in steel with a maceration of five days. Bottled in April after the vintage, like Lorenzino. Also like Lorenzino, I found this Barbera to be ungiving when first tasted a few months ago. It’s now emerging with red berry fruit and lively (but no longer tangy) acidity. Germano’s simplest wine, but perfect with everyday pasta and white meat courses. Sergio reiterated our understanding that Barbera d’Alba tends to have slightly mellower acidity and richer flesh than Barbera d’Asti.
   


6. Barbera d’Alba “Vigna della Madre” 2004: This is one of the wines that puts Sergio in the centrist-to-modernist camp in Barolo. Vigna della Madre is a single vineyard planted to fairly old vines of Barbera. Following one week of maceration, the wine spends one year in barriques, 25-30% of which are new. In most vintages, 2004 included, the della Madre is Germano’s ripest, most opulent wine, always balanced by the characteristic lively acidity of Barbera. The terroir of the site combined with winemaking choices give this cuvee a firm tannic backbone and produce a wine suitable, in Sergio’s opinion, for 10-15 years of bottle aging.
   


7. Langhe Rosso “Balàu” 2004: In a region which includes no tradition for blended wines, Balàu, along with its “sister” Binel, represents Germano’s clearest step toward the modernist end of the spectrum. This tendency is driven home by the inclusion of an international grape variety, Merlot. To reflect the character of each vintage, the final blend often changes subtly from year to year, with the final selection for 2004 comprised of 50% Dolcetto, 25% Barbera and 25% Merlot, all grown in the Balàu vineyard. Due to harvest times which can vary widely for these three vines, each variety is fermented on its own. After blending, the wine spends one year in old barriques. Showing a very fleshy, round palate, Balàu is less opulent yet somewhat more elegant than the Barbera della Madre. The 2004 contains the highest percentage of Merlot to date, adding a measured softness and rich, red-fruited tone to the finished wine.
   


8. Langhe Nebbiolo 2005: Like all producers in Barolo, some of Sergio’s plantings of Nebbiolo are not suitable for inclusion in Barolo. Like those producers of Barolo who are as conscientious of quality as Sergio, he opts to produce a varietal Nebbiolo meant to showcase the more direct, immediately pleasing side of the noble vine of Piedmont. Selected from the young vines in his Barolo vineyards, the Langhe Nebbiolo is fermented and aged only in steel, bringing out a purity of fruit and delicacy of texture. 2005 was a fantastic vintage for Sergio and this wine makes it absolutely obvious. Its aromas -- violets, roses, red licorice and raspberries -- literally jump from the glass. It’s a “Wow!” wine on the nose and is simply a joy to drink. No patience necessary.
   


9. Barolo “Cerretta” 2001: In good years, Sergio produces three Barolo bottlings: a Barolo “normale” and two different cru Barolos, Cerretta and Prapo. Cerretta is always the richest and densest of the three. It’s treated to a more modern touch in the cellar, with aging in barriques (20% new) and 500 liter barrels. And it’s damn good wine. Dark, brooding and powerful with an underlying ripeness, it shows aromas and flavors of tar, blackberry and black licorice.
   


10. Barolo “Prapo” 2001: From a separately defined site which is part of the Cerretta hill, Prapo is the more traditional and also longest lived of Sergio’s crus. Fruit from 40 year old vines is aged in botte, the classic large oval casks of Piedmont. It is a leaner wine than Cerretta, more firmly tannic yet also more precise, elegant and sharply defined. The aromas are more floral, the licorice notes more red than black and the wood tones more dusty than sweet. It finishes with fantastic length.

Sergio is quietly proud of his wines and earnest in his desire to receive thoughtful feedback and questions. In showing us his wines, both his drive to continuously improve and a true love of what he does show through. I almost always find the opportunity to learn from great winemakers like Sergio to be invaluable. My above notes for his two Barolo are consistent from vintage to vintage, a sign of good work in the vineyard and the cellar. But my understanding of the wines has been strengthened and deepened by the time we’ve shared. While Prapo always comes across as the more tannic of Sergio’s Barolos, we learned that the Cerretta site actually produces a more inherently tannic wine. This drives Sergio’s choices in the winery, not for the sake of the modern appeal of small barrels and new oak but rather for their tempering effect on Cerretta’s muscle. The increased air space relative to volume in a small barrel, he tells us, softens tannins. It’s a choice made not for its appeal to the big critics but simply for the sake of making a more balanced wine. It’s a mature approach to making a great wine in a world where the immediacy of flash and opulence all too often lead the way. And it makes me proud to sell Germano Ettore wines.

* * *
Recommended reading:

Intro only...