Showing posts with label Umbria. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Umbria. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

There's a Method in the Orangeness

Using Paris wine bar culture as his mise-en-scène, Thor has written a forceful piece on the encroaching, seemingly self-imposed ghettoization of the natural wine movement. It's his contribution to 32 Days of Natural Wine, and it's a dense and weighty one, so make sure to allow yourself a meaningful chunk of time to work through it (if you haven't done so already). It'll be time well spent.

In a much lighter sense, my friend Jeremy and I seem to have formed our own little accidental ghetto, drinking and writing about (or around) the same wines at roughly the same time with pleasantly surprising yet entirely random frequency. In yesterday's post about a new sushi spot in Austin, TX, he poured the very same wine I'd hoped to write about yesterday. Time got away from me then, so here ya go....

One of these days, we'll actually have to open a bottle together, pal.

Umbria Bianco IGT "Santa Chiara," Paolo Bea 2008
$45. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Rosenthal Wine Merchant, New York, NY.
Bea's "Santa Chiara" makes for a fantastic introduction (initiation, if you prefer) to the world of so-called orange wine. It's a blend of six twenties — 20% Grechetto, 20% Malvasia, 20% Sauvignon, 20% Garganega and 20% Chardonnay, all fermented on their skins for 20 days. The end result is a wine both bracingly tannic and immensely savory. A perfect choice for inclusion in a course on white wine and structure. One could make an argument that it's also an example of technique trumping terroir, but a case could just as easily be made to the contrary.

In either case, the results speak for themselves, as the wine is not just intensely structured but also downright delicious. Sticking my nose in the glass conjured up one of those unmistakable if distant scent-triggered memories — of a gas station at the sea shore, with diesel/feusal scents offering counterpoint to aromas of fresh, salty sea air. Compelling juice, indeed.

Tuesday, September 16, 2008

Real Sangiovese that’s Not from Tuscany

In the wake of all the attention paid to the Montalcino scandals of late – Dr. Parzen wrote a good piece on the matter just the other day – it’s important not to lose sight of the fact that there are plenty of wineries out there still making honest wine from good vineyard sites using the traditional, local clone(s) of Sangiovese. Most of it, not surprisingly (at least not to me), comes from relatively modest, hands-on estates, from people who Alice Feiring might refer to as “emotionally connected vignerons,” from wine growers with a true passion for their land.

In the wake of all the attention paid to Tuscany here in the States, it’s also easy to forget that not all Italian Sangiovese comes from Tuscany. Sangiovese, by most accounts, is the most widely planted red grape variety in all of Italy. It’s particularly focused in central Italy. But I’ve tasted examples from as far removed as Lake Garda in the Veneto and enjoyed, just yesterday at the Boutique Wine Collection tasting here in Philly (more on that in the days to come), a simple but eminently quaffable example from Sicily. One of my current favorites when it comes to everyday examples of Sangiovese – of real, expressive Sangiovese – comes from Umbria. It just happens to come from a larger estate, one that might not fit Alice’s description to a tee but one, nonetheless, which has chosen to play not just by the traditional rules but also according to their natural passions for their land.


Montefalco Rosso, Antonelli San Marco 2004
$17. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Laird & Company, Scobeyville, NJ.
Antonelli’s Montefalco Rosso is typically a blend of 65% Sangiovese with 15% Sagrantino and 10% each of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. Though Sagrantino must be considered the signature grape of Montefalco, this wine gives proof to the existence of characterful Sangiovese in the region, as Sangiovese certainly dominates the wines profile. Decry it for the inclusion of Cabernet and Merlot if you must, but they’re actually fairly traditional here as opposed to in, say, Montalcino.

In spite of their inclusion, the wine shows a transparent, ruby hue in the glass. Aromas are high-toned, of wild cherries, dried Mediterranean herbs and an attractively subtle touch of freshly tanned cowhide. In the mouth, acidity plays the leading role, focusing a beam of clean, silky red fruit across the middle of the palate. Tannins are fairly gentle and supple. There’s enough innate structure here to stand up to roasted meat dishes but enough versatility to work with a wider range of foods, from hearty pastas to simple, country fare, to sheep’s milk cheeses. On day two, things broadened out a bit with respect to acidity, giving the wine a softer, riper yet no less nuanced feel.

If you’re looking for a Tuscan powerhouse, this ain’t it. Then again, most real Tuscan Sangiovese, most honest Tuscan Sangiovese, isn’t about power. If you’re looking for a lovely example of what Sangiovese can do in Umbria, and what it can do without breaking the $20 threshold, this would be a good place to start.

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Marc de Grazia Grand Tour 2008 Tasting

I’ve been struggling for several days now as to whether or not to post this. As you’re now reading it, my decision should be obvious. However, it wasn’t reached easily. It took encouragement and inspiration from a few friends. Really, it wasn’t until I saw Jeremy Parzen’s video of his recent visit to the Gambero Rosso tasting in San Diego and, subsequently, Brooklynguy’s reluctant report on the Gambero Rosso event in New York that I made up my mind. Even then, coming to a decision took a little more self-inflicted torture. The reasons are many. First and foremost, the tasting occurred in the middle of a busy workday. I tasted fairly but did not have the time to sample all of the wines present or to take notes in as much detail as I’d usually like. Second, I found little to like among what I did manage to taste. Even after years in the trade and a year-plus of blogging, I still feel a tug of self-conflict when griping about something for which I didn’t pay.

It’s time to get over it, McDuff.

The whites:
The only producer whose wines I enjoyed across the board, white or red, was Gini, an estate located in Monforte d’Alpone at the heart of the Soave Classico zone. Their 2006 Soave Classico “normale,” done all in stainless and unusual in its claim of being 100% Garganega, was pure and well-balanced, with golden pear fruit and mouth watering acidity. The 2004 Recioto di Soave Classico “Col Foscarin” was simple but lovely for its honeyed fruit and, again, good acidity. More compelling was their botrytis affected cuvée, Recioto di Soave Classico “Renobilis” 2003. The extra concentration provided by the noble rot lent the wine more aromatic depth and a longer, spice-tinged finish.

Overall, the whites in the de Grazia portfolio fared better than the reds, though mainly by dubious virtue of falling in the neutral zone, that undistinguished, middle of the road, neither bad nor characterful part of spectrum. This, of course, is an issue that many critics have pointed out with all too many Italian white wines in general. One such pundit, Terry Hughes at Mondosapore, has been digging for the exceptions to that rule lately (see here and here). Along with him, I’ve been looking to Campania in search of some of those exceptions. The wines I tasted today, though, didn’t quite raise the bar.

The 2006 Falanghina from Cantina del Taburno was corked, so I’ll withhold judgment (aside from the fact that they were pouring it). Their Greco from the same vintage was perfectly acceptable for its fruitiness yet was boring. But then, I’ve yet to find a Greco I have liked much… any recommendations out there? On the flipside of the simple yet fruity coin was the 2006 Fiano di Avellino from Collio di Lapio; it showed intense structure, with both acidity and apparent extract on the palate, yet it was nearly bereft of fruit.

Moving up the boot to Umbria, the Orvieto-based estate Palazzone was showing three of their whites. Their 2006 Orvieto Classico Superiore “Terre Vineate” fell very much into the same camp as the Greco from Cantina del Taburno, perfectly nice yet ultimately uninspiring. More interesting and soundly up there in the “wines I liked” category was their vineyard designated 2004 Orvieto Classico Superiore “Campo del Guardiano.” Fourteen months of bottle aging prior to release, along with what would appear to be better quality fruit, had give it firmer texture and a savory, herbaceous and nutty character. Falling totally flat, however, was Palazzone’s 2005 Umbria Bianco IGT “L’Ultima Spiaggia,” a barrel fermented, varietal Viognier. De Grazia’s signature barrique stamp had robbed the wine of any varietal character, with wood dominating the fruit profile, aroma and texture of the wine. The idea of a “de Grazia signature” moves me right along to…

The reds:
As mentioned earlier, I was a touch pressed for time. So rather than letting my brain lead me to the southern Italian reds with which I’m slightly less familiar, I let my heart lead me right to the region of Italy to which I feel the strongest affinity – Piemonte.

I so wanted to like the wines from Cavallotto Fratelli. I’ve enjoyed their Freisa on occasion and have particularly fond memories of drinking a bottle of their 1996 Barolo “Bricco Boschis” Riserva more or less in situ, over lunch at the fantastic restaurant Le Torri in the town center of Castiglione Falletto. Relatively speaking, I did find at least a little to like. A 2004 Barbera d’Alba “Bricco Boschis Vigna del Cuculo” was still tightly wound and loaded with plump yet structured Barbera fruit. The 2003 version of their Barolo “Bricco Boschis” showed some character, especially for the vintage, on both the nose and palate. Both wines, however, were marred by an overzealous use of oak and were lacking, respectively, in juiciness and nerve.

It was with the line-up from Domenico Clerico that I really hit the wall. Across the board, the wines were over-extracted, over-oaked, inky black and lacking in a clear expression of place. Their 2005 Dolcetto d’Alba “Visadi” was missing both the aromatic nuance and fruity charm of which Dolcetto is capable, instead clamping down on the palate with aggressive tannins and closed, over-saturated fruit. One de Grazia rep called it “not your father’s Dolcetto” (I doubt my father ever drank Dolcetto but that’s beside the point). Another boasted that the wine had somehow gained nuance by being aged in barriques formerly inhabited by the estate’s Barolo…. Ahem. Next. A similar fate befell the Barbera d’Alba “Trevigne” from 2004 that was just plain overblown. Worst of all was the estate’s 2004 Langhe Rosso “Arte,” a blend of 90% Nebbiolo and 10% Barbera done in 100% new barriques. I look to Nebbiolo for nuance, for structure, for delicacy intertwined with sinew; this was loaded with oak and tannins but had nothing else to say.

Clerico’s 2002 Barolo smelled great, with lots of spice, tar and wild red fruits. Yet it turned out to be unpalatable, marred by an apparently dogmatic insistence on using all new barrels in spite of the difficult, slightly dilute nature of the 2002 vintage. Only in the 2003 Barolo “Ginestra Ciabot Mentin” was there enough natural substance for the resulting wine to stand up to the oak and vinification techniques that were thrown at it. Even then, this is Barolo designed for lovers of the overtly modernist style – big fruit, dark color and lavish oak.

A couple of my coworkers who ventured over to the tasting later in the day assured me that I hadn’t missed much with the Tuscan and southern Italian reds. Their essential summation: “Everything tasted the same.”

It may seem unfair to judge de Grazia’s portfolio after going through only a subset of his producers. But my experience at the tasting is backed up by similar past experiences with wines from other estates in his Piemonte cadre alone, such as Paolo Scavino and, in particular, La Spinetta. Like them or not, it’s hard to argue that they don’t fall into a very narrow extreme of the stylistic spectrum.

This brings me full circle to the main message and inspiration of the posts from my fellow bloggers. The Gambero Rosso awards, as with most of the points-based systems used by major print critics, have come to favor high alcohol, high extract, in your face, drink me now wines. That’s just too many extremes to balance, even if a real, honest and truly good wine does occasionally sneak into the fray.

It also brings me to my final discomfit. The dominant trend over the last 15-odd years to reward high alcohol, overtly modern wines that end up lacking a sense of place – fueled by the Gambero Rosso and similar systems – is irksome enough. A portfolio of wines from an importer that, from what I’m given to understand, pushes its producers to make wines to appeal directly to those systems – via the promotion of roto-fermenters and required new barrel aging regimes, for instance – is even harder for me to swallow.

* * *

Related links, aka, flame off:

For a very thoughtful essay on the topic of modernist vs. traditionalist Barolo, see Craig Camp’s 2003 article on the Barolo wars.

A fair-handed piece on the pros and cons of roto-fermenters:
Fast and furious: rotary fermenters have fans and skeptics
from Wines & Vines, April, 2005, by Tim Teichgraeber
Blog Widget by LinkWithin