I Clivi

At the top of a hill in Corno di Rosazzo, just steps across the border from the Collio into the Colli Orientali del Friuli zone, lies the estate known as I Clivi ("the slopes," in ancient Italian).  I Clivi occupies one of the more privileged sites in the COF zone, with vines rooted in a soil base rich in calcareous marl, known locally as ponca (or flysch), an ideal environment for traditional Friulano varieties and a terroir that lends an intensely mineral signature and compact, focused acid structure to the wines grown on the property.

Arriving at sunset on Tuesday, we were greeted on the front terrace of the winery by Mario Zanusso, the current winegrower at I Clivi.  Mario is a handsome guy, at once quiet, intense and somewhat reserved -- not at all unlike the wines we would taste with him a short while later.  Walking and talking with him, I got the sense that he'd be just as much at home taking in a Ramones gig at CBGB (if only we had a time machine) as he seemed in the hills of Rosazzo.

The vineyards at I Clivi, as are much of the high quality sites throughout Colli Orientali del Friuli, are laid out on terraces cut into the hillsides.  The slopes here, though not exactly gentle, are not insanely steep, at least not when compared to more precipitous viticultural areas such as the Mosel or Northern Rhône. While I'm sure that, for some producers, ease of mechanization plays into the maintenance of the terraces, Mario explained that their genesis sprang from a more primal need, as the friable nature of the ponca-rich soils make the landscape highly prone to erosion.  The terraces, at a very practical level, help to keep the vineyards in place in a landscape where heavy rainfall might otherwise, over time, lay bare the roots of the vines.

I was so intent on capturing the beautiful view of the sunset (something for which my camera is not particularly well suited) that I totally neglected to snap a few shots of the old vines on the steeper, terraced vineyards at I Clivi.

The Zanusso family owns a total of twelve hectares of vineyards, eight of them directly surrounding the winery and falling in the Colli Orientali del Friuli zone, and another four situated in the Collio, just over the next line of hills, immediately adjacent to the border between the COF and Collio DOC areas.  Farming at the estate is certified organic and nearly all of the wines are estate bottled, though Mario's keenness for Ribolla Gialla has led him to purchase some fruit from growers in nearby Goriška Brda (Slovenia) while waiting for his own young vines of Ribolla to come of age.

In both the vineyards and the cellar, I think that the approach at I Clivi can best be described as rational.  Respect for nature is maintained, farming is certified organic, but no particular doctrine or credo is followed.  In Mario's own words, "The first thing is that the wine is good.  We don't need to obey some [set of] rules."  Some of his wines are fermented on their native yeasts, others not, depending on the needs and characteristics of the vintage and each cuvée.  Mario uses a light hand with sulfur, adding a bit at crush when the fruit is most susceptible to oxidation, most of which is consumed during fermentation, then adding just a dash at bottling for the sake of stability.

With one technical exception (which I'll explain shortly), all of the white wines at I Clivi are fermented and aged solely in steel and without skin contact.  Though the family does farm some modern varieties (Merlot, Chardonnay, Sauvignon), Mario holds a strong preference for local varieties.  They are also blessed with having a high proportion of old vines on their property, as Mario feels that the old vines draw greater minerality into their wines.  The white wines all undergo extended lees aging, including a practice the Zanussos adopted from Burgundy – and here's that exception to the steel-only rule at the estate – in which the lees, immediately after fermentation, are removed from the wine and "aged" in barriques for one month before being reintroduced to the wine.

Leaving the cellar for the cozier confines of the family's tasting room, we were joined by Mario's father, Ferdinando Zanusso, who slowly but surely took the reins as we sat down to taste and discuss the wines.  One could quickly fathom from where Mario inherited not just his looks but also his intensity, as Ferdinando is the kind of man who imparts as much information and intention with a quick look, gesture or phrase as many people take minutes and paragraphs to convey.  In earlier phases of his life, he spent time in Africa with the United Nations and also worked in the maritime transport field before settling at I Clivi, where he and Mario have been producing wines since the 1996 vintage.

Collectively, the wines at I Clivi are among the most focused, mineral-intense, and, one could argue, tightly wound of any I've encountered during our week long exploration of Colli Orientali del Friuli, Those descriptors carry even greater weight than usual given that we tasted all of the wines at room temperature, where faults or imbalances, if any, are laid bare much more clearly than when chilled.

We tasted from the family's very last bottle of 2009 Ribolla Gialla, all 11.3% alcohol of it, produced from the fruit of 15 year-old vines grown in Brda; a very clean, light and vibrant style, round in feel and lifted by its bright acidity and minerality.

The first of two examples of Friulano came next, the 2009 Colli Orientali del Friuli Friulano "Vecchia Vigna al Clivi," which comes from 60 year-old vines immediately adjacent to the house and spent a year on its lees before being bottled in October 2010. Intensely salty, with a gorgeous balance between fleshiness and racy acidity.  A 2009 Friulano "San Lorenzo," from the Collio DOC, was richer, less mineral, more savory in its flavors, with an attractive vegetal undertone and a classic signature of bitter almond flavor on the finish.

One of my favorite wines of the evening (and in near final retrospect, of the entire trip) was the 2006 Colli Orientali del Friuli "Clivi Galea," a blend dominated by Tocai (about 90%) with small proportions of both Verduzzo and Chardonnay.  It spent two years on the lees in tank.  Galea is a single vineyard on the home/COF side of the property with dry, marl-rich soil -- a mix of chalk clay and limestone.  Relative to the younger wines we'd already tasted, it boasted a higher alcohol level of 14%, a level now much more typical of the region, in this case a direct side effect of the hotter than average 2006 growing season.  The wine was nonetheless perfectly balanced; redolent of fennel and loaded with stony flavors and textures, it was downright fantastic.

A bottle of 2007 Collio Goriziano "Clivi Brazan" was richer, darker and more evolved than the '06 "Galea," a facet influenced more by the rainy 2007 growing season than by the wine's different place of origin, over the hill and into the Collio zone.  Still, the wine was far from without its own charms; much more tropical and zesty on the nose, with aromas of lychee and hothouse flowers, along with a subtle peppermint scent.

Neither Mario nor Ferdinando are particularly fond of sweet wines, so they opt to produce a Verduzzo -- one of the two autochthonous vines of the region, along with Picolit, typically used for sweet, appassimento wines -- in a dry style.  In the words of my traveling companion Wayne, Verduzzo is "a red wine grape with white skin." While that character is generally masked in sweet expressions of Verduzzo, it came through clearly here, with a tannic, grippy, somewhat aggressive texture that called out for food -- roast pork or veal come to mind.

Arguably the most forward wine in the day's lineup was the 2009 Colli Orientali del Friuli "Bianco Degli Arzillari," a blend of Chardonnay, Sauvignon and Traminer.  Not at all aromatically overbearing, as the presence of Sauvignon and Traminer in the blend might suggest, it was fleshy and quite pleasant. If forced to pick one wine that didn't particularly call out to me, it would be I Clivi's 2008 Collio Malvasia.  A varietal expression of Malvasia Istriana, it was fat on the palate, from front to rear, creating an initial impression of sweetness yet finishing dry and mineral, with lingering flavors.  Again, it wasn't my fave but is was still a very good expression of Malvasia.

As the evening progressed and our tasting wound down, Ferdinando offered us one last taste, of the only red produced at the estate, the Colli Orientali del Friuli Merlot "Clivi Galea," in this case from the 2003 vintage.  Regardless of country and region, the Merlot vine loves clay and there's clay aplenty in the ponca soils of the Galea vineyard.  Classically red-fruited and elegant at first taste, it took on a smoky character on the finish, where it showed quite a firm spine.  Food came to mind once again, this time roast beef with pesto....

Bidding Signore Zanusso arrivederci under starry skies, I was ready for dinner, dreaming of sleep and, most of all, still savoring the intense, lingering impressions left by the wines and the particular passions of a father and son growing wines in the Friulano hills.

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BioBenessere, The Wines of Venturini Baldini and Dinner at Del Posto

When I received an invitation to attend a wine dinner in New York earlier this week, the details were a bit fuzzy. Allusions were made to a group of renegade natural winemakers from Italy, conducting a fringe event in conjunction with the annual Fancy Food Show. They had contacted Terence Hughes, who was in attendance on behalf of his preeminent Italian wine and culture blog, Mondosapore, and his fledgling wine import business, Domenico Selections. Apparently, they’d asked Terry to invite along a blogger/journalist to cover the event. Quite honored that he’d thought of me, I made some quick adjustments to my work schedule, called in favors from a good friend and hit the road, intrigued by the opportunity and happy for the impetus to pay a long overdue visit to NY.

My erstwhile host and translator for the evening, thrust into the spotlight again.

As it turns out, our renegade, fringe expectations of the event were somewhat mislaid. Not all organic winegrowers, after all, carry with them the stridently natural doctrines of Josko Gravner for instance, or the slightly wacky, Dr. Bronner-like approach to labeling and marketing of Paolo Bea. My expectation that we’d taste wines from a group of producers from throughout Italy was also off the mark.

The evening’s event was indeed focused on organic wines and did have a consortium element, just of a different scope than both Terence and I had anticipated.

The lovely Donata Venturini presided over the proceedings, while Italian importer Leonardo Locascio was on hand to survey the prospects.

Donata Venturini, head of the Venturini Baldini family’s estate Tenuta di Roncolo, was in town along with representatives of the Italian government sponsored consortium, PRO.B.E.R. (Association of Organic and Biodynamic Producers of Emilia-Romagna), to promote a wide range of organically grown products from throughout Donata’s home region of Emilia-Romagna. The group, through its three-year initiative called Biobenessere (essentially, “natural well being”), had sponsored a dinner, in the far from renegade setting of the Batali/Bastianich outpost Del Posto, prepared especially to highlight Ms. Venturini’s wines.

Our places were set in the upper reaches of the impressively tony dining room at Del Posto.


Venturini Baldini and the other quality minded wine producers of Emilia-Romagna have a tough path set out for them. When it comes to food, Emilia-Romagna is often cited as the gustatory capital of Italy. The region’s wines, however, often fall into the role of the ugly stepchild. Surrounded by Piemonte, Lombardia and the Veneto to the north as well as by Toscana to the south and west, Emilia-Romagna’s wines pale in renown to those of its neighbors. Then there’s the fact that the region’s best known wine is Lambrusco, represented first and foremost here in the states through the past days of glory and continuing brand influence exercised by the Riunite cooperative. Add to that the zone’s preponderance of off-dry, sparkling wines – both styles that often fall to fickle fashion here in the States – and you’ll begin to get the picture.

Representatives of BioBenessere were on hand to answer questions and support the initiatives of their organization.

True to the traditions of Reggio-Emilia, Venturini Baldini predominately produces sparkling wines. We started with a non-vintage Colli di Scandiano e di Canossa Malvasia secca “Malvasia dell’Emilia,” slightly off dry in style and on the bubbliest end of the frizzante spectrum. The combination of bubbles and crunchy fruit typical of the region’s wines act as an ideal foil to zesty, fatty foods, demonstrated ably in this wine’s pairing with a plate of richly marbled Prosciutto di Parma. The aromatic character of Malvasia di Candia, however, is heightened even further through the wine’s bubbly delivery, resulting in a wine so highly perfumed of lemon balm and hothouse flowers as to make food pairing difficult. I have to join company with Peter Liem in wondering whether such an aromatic variety makes sense as a base for sparkling wine, even if the Charmat method creates fewer conflicts with Malvasia’s character than would the traditional method of sparkling wine production. The dolce bottling served with dessert was pleasant enough but did little to change my mind.

Where the quality of fruit and versatility shine is in Ms. Venturini’s red wines, which are a far cry from the ubiquitous soda pop style of Lambrusco. Her Reggiano Lambrusco Rosso secco, a blend of the traditional Lambrusco clones of Marani, Montericco, Maestri, Salamino and Grasparossa, was rustic, chewy and bright. Its blackberry, mulberry and bitter chocolate notes, carried on a brusquely frizzante frame, made me pine for a simple pepperoni pizza, though it worked more than adequately with Del Posto’s Garganelli al Ragu Bolognese. Its sibling, Vino Spumante di Qualità “Rubino del Cerro,” which includes the addition of a little Bonarda, delivered heightened elegance and aromatic finesse, along with more precise acid balance and delicate fruit. It was spot on with a course of pigeon and foie gras sausage. In spite of its greater breed, I took greater enjoyment from the simple pleasures of the basic Lambrusco secco.





The dishes at Del Posto, clockwise from top left, above: Antipasti; Prosciutto di Parma; Aragosta con Salsa Americana; Garganelli al Ragu Bolognese.

Below: Salsiccia di Foie Gras con Insalata d'Uva; Beef Tenderloin with Potato Crisps, Butter Lettuce & Spring Onion; Cioccolato e Pane.





The greatest pleasure of the night may have been Venturini Baldini’s Colli di Scandiano e di Canossa Marzemino Dolce, a medium-sweet, sparkling varietal Marzemino that tips the scales at 6% alcohol. It was fresh, lively and, surprisingly, a far better match than the Malvasia dolce with Del Posto’s tiny teacup of a confection called Citrus Fantasia. It was also a solid match with the richer dessert course of Cioccolato e Pane, much more so than the insipid Niepoort 10-Year Tawny Port that the restaurant insisted on inserting into the menu.

Venturini Baldini currently produces about 300,000 bottles annually, with the potential to double production in the future. 50 of their 200 hectares are under vine. All farming is certified organic. They have yet to establish a presence in the US market, a goal that was no doubt part and parcel of their mission in New York. Based on the quality of their Lambrusco, assuming the price is right, I’d say there’s prime opportunity for a handful of small to mid-sized regional importer/distributors, particularly in the US market areas that are crying out for a refreshing taste of potential talent from an oft demeaned wine region.

Intro only...