Showing posts with label Alto. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alto. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

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

Saturday, November 20, 2010

The Meeting of the Mentshes

Just a quick post this afternoon, as I'm still working on shaking off a food coma, the result of two back-to-back days of fantastic dining and wining, Thursday in Philly and Friday in New York. There should be more details on the people, meals and vini involved in the days to come. For now, I just want to give a shout out to some friends and a nod to the serendipitous occasion that brought us all together.

Just look at those mugs!  From left to right, that's me along with Jeremy Parzen of Do Bianchi, Neil the Brooklynguy, and Lyle Fass of Rockss and Fruit, all gathered under one roof.  Can you believe it?

I don't know about you but I can still hardly believe it.  In the years that the four of us have been doing the wine blogging thing — I'm the junior member of the bunch in blog days — last night was the first time that we'd all convened.  Even harder to believe, as it feels like I've known him for years now, was the fact that it was the first time I'd ever *actually* met Mr. Parzen, an occasion long past due.  I think it's fair to say that we're all big respecters of each others work, and I know it's fair to say that Jeremy, Neil and Lyle are my three most linked-up fellow bloggers in the history of MFWT.

The man responsible for our meeting was Levi Dalton (busy at work in the photo at right), crack sommelier at New York restaurant Alto and an all around super good guy.  In two days flat, Levi had put together a very special dinner featuring the wines of Cascina Ebreo.  It was through his genius, generosity and, as our collective bunch might say (and forgive me for saying), mentschlekhkeyt, that we were all finally able to break bread together.

If only I hadn't had to rush off so quickly to make, just barely, the late bus back to Philly.  I jumped up from the table in such a flash that I somehow managed to leave behind my notes for the night.  Not to worry, though, the details are fixed indelibly in my mind.  As threatened above, I'll have a full report on the wine side of our repast in the days to come.

It was an honor and a pleasure, gentlemen!

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

The Modern, Post-Fluxus, Alto Pig

The drive to New York from Philadelphia takes about two hours, traffic demons willing. Amtrak makes it a tad quicker and a load more relaxing but, as with most things that are too good to be true, it's special occasion or expense account pricey. The SEPTA/NJ Transit combo should be the ticket, but from outside the city it involves multiple connections — and SEPTA's late night service is all but nonexistent. There's always the option of driving from Philly to, say, Trenton, then taking NJ Transit into Manhattan....

The invitation came just a few days ahead of time. It took me the better part of those few days but finally, tired of letting myself find excuses, justifications, reasons not to go, I went. To New York. For a pig roast. Does there really need to be a more "important" impetus?

With the pig as primal calling, and given that the pig in question was to be found just around the corner from 53rd and 5th Avenue, I figured I'd head straight off the train for Midtown, even if I was five hours early. Just enough time to do a couple of things I'd been meaning to do for far too long.

First up: lunch at the bar in the loosely Alsatian-themed restaurant The Modern, set adjacent to the lower corner of the no-longer-new home of the MOMA. My first and last visit to The Modern, several years back, not long after its opening, had showed a good deal of potential but had been marred by awkward service — very much not a Danny Meyer hallmark — and a couple of dishes that were less than inspiring.

This time around, the food — not that it's entirely reasonable to judge based on only a couple of dishes — seemed to have found more solid footing. A seasonal salad of shaved asparagus, fava beans and Westfield Farm goat cheese provided a refreshing kick to the appetite, while a slightly larger plate of grilled yellowfin tuna, served with a wedge of preserved lemon and a couple of crispy veal sweetbread nuggets, was cooked perfectly and quite flavorful, even if a little heavy-handed on the seasoning front.

Last trip, I'd visited for dinner and ordered a bottle — of Riesling from Albert Mann, if memory serves — from The Modern's fairly formidable list of Alsace offerings. Lunchtime called for something more modest, though, which regrettably had to be culled from a far less inspired list of wines by the glass. Only one option really jumped out at me, the Crémant d'Alsace "Émotion" NV from Domaine l'Agapé, which turned out to be imported by Savio Soares Selections, a factoid that was unbeknown to me at the time of ordering. It also turned out to be quite delicious: generously creamy, direct yet elegant, concentrated yet lithe, bready and amply fruity, with just a touch of earthy funk on the finish. Not a bad start.

Next up: a walk out the front door of The Modern, twenty paces to the right, and a turn in through the front door of the MOMA. I find it hard to believe of myself that I had yet to visit the Museum of Modern Art since it took up its new residence just west of 53rd and 5th back in 2004. That definitely needed to be rectified.

I went to the MOMA and all I got was this lousy photograph.

Seriously, though, I took a picture of this seemingly innocuous poster because I liked the way the neon Picasso sculpture, hanging on the opposite wall within the current Fluxus exhibit, was reflected in its glass, and the fact that it featured saxophonist Peter Brötzmann who, 47 years later, still plays regularly in the Philadelphia area, courtesy of the Ars Nova Workshop.


I took a fairly random approach to my visit, simply winding my way from room to room, floor to floor. As good a way as any to get a feel for the new digs, I figured, which turned out to be very much to my liking. Nice flow, yet not without some peculiar nooks and crannies; good feel and space; very much in keeping with the scope of oeuvres within its walls.

Untitled #153, Cindy Sherman.
Image courtesy of Masters of Photography.

I was reminded of how naturally amazing were the works of Picasso. I was turned on in a thoughtfully provocative sense by Louise Bourgeois' textile collage called "Ode à l'Oubli." Looking at a single piece in the installation "The Modern Myth," I had to ask myself why I like Joseph Beuys, then I walked into a whole room of his work, contained within the Museum's permanent collection, and remembered. I remembered how much I like the works of Mark Rothko, and of how no one ever seems to remember him for the works he did aside from his large color-block canvases. I was struck by how important and influential are the works of Jasper Johns, even though they don't really move me; I remembered that I plain don't enjoy the works of his contemporary, Frank Stella. And I was reminded of just how startlingly beautiful the photography of Cindy Sherman can be, how her work intentionally manipulates lighting, setting, subject matter and exposure to create jarring surrealism from what is actually extreme realism. Most of all, I was reminded that I really do need to see art more often.

Last stop: the pig.

The pig roast in question was at Alto, where I'd been invited by Sommelier Levi Dalton. Levi had called together a group of friends from the trade to help him drink some wine, eat some friggin' amazingly good roast pork, and have an all around good time.

Silvia Altare was the guest of honor, the de facto impetus behind the night's gathering. Given the constant entourage of Skurnik-ites that surrounded her throughout the evening, the old make eye contact and give a nod was about as close as I ever got to hello how are you. That and drinking a glass or two of her Dolcetto and Barbera, which flowed fairly freely throughout the party. (De-incriminated photo courtesy of Levi D.)

If you want the scoop on the rest of the wines being passed 'round the patio, head on over to Brooklynguy's report of the proceedings. While I can concur that the 1989 Sancerre "Les Monts Damnés" from François Cotat was indeed a most excellent expression of honey-coated mineral goodness, I was so engrossed in conversation and that pig — oh, that pig — that I missed out on most of the other goodies. The pig doesn't appear to be on Alto's regular menu but I'm guessing it runs as a special from time to time or could be ordered in advance for a reasonably sized party.

I must have taken somewhere on the order of 173 photos of Levi Dalton (pictured at left above, along with Chris Hallowell of Wine & Spirits Magazine) but this is as close as I could get to capturing him with his eyes open. The guy in the upper right corner was obviously wondering what the #%*& I was doing....

I already knew what a good guy Levi was. Heck, last time I saw him he bought me a root beer. And now roast pork and Piemontese vino.... I had no idea, though, at least not until yesterday, that he's also a gifted writer. You won't want to miss his contribution, entitled Geraldine's, to 32 Days of Natural Wine.

It's something I really should do more often. Take the day trip to New York, I mean, pig roast and Barolo or no.


The Modern
9 W 53rd Street
New York, NY 10019
(212) 333-1220
The Modern on Urbanspoon

Alto
11 E 53rd Street
New York, NY 10022
(212) 308-1099
Alto on Urbanspoon
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