Frank Cipparone, Author at Undiscovered Italy

Bisson U Pastine 2010

Frank Cipparone Liguria June 30, 2013January 5, 2016bianchetto genovese 0 Comment

Summer is upon us, the next heat wave only an AccuWeather forecast away. Time for those of us who love Italian wine to uncork bracing, acidity-driven whites from the coastal hills. Maybe a Verdicchio from the Adriatic shores, a Tuscan Vermentino or Vernaccia, perhaps Campania’s ancient grapes such as Falanghina, Fiano, or Asprinio. Definitely Sicilian Carricante and Grillo. How about something from Liguria, the maritime arc that runs from the Cinque Terre to the French border?

The problem is that very few Ligurian wines find their way stateside. A Vermentino or Pigato here and there, but what of a varietal such as Bianchetto Genovese? I’d heard of the “little white grape from Genoa”, and it was probably in the field blends I consumed while visiting the region years ago, but that meant that its inherent characteristics were lost in the mix, and remained a mystery.

To find it in a PLCB store was on the order of discovering a 1936 Margaux in your grandfather’s cellar. I’d had two other Bissson wines and was familiar with the name Pierluigi Lugano, but was ignorant of the fact he was the first to produce a monovarietal Bianchetta. His two estates near the Golfo di Tigullio DOC showcase his dedication to preserving indigenous Ligurian grapes. Alongside more recognizable names can be found Albarola, Bosco, and Ciliegiolo. The region’s steep, rocky terrain necessitates all vineyard work be done manually. Bisson wines, both red and white, are fermented and stored in tank to maintain those qualities and specific fruit profiles unique to each varietal.

In local dialect, u pastine is a parcel of land chosen as ideal for viticulture. Lugano hit the mark with his site selection. The nose has a tinge of saltiness, wildflowers, and that breezy, terroir-specific aroma of scrub pine-thyme-fennel Italians refer to as macchia. It’s full bodied for a white, but not in a wood-fueled Chardonnay sense. Richly textured and vaguely tropical sensations of white peaches, pear, and melons are invigorated by bursts of salinity and minerals. Bisson U Pastine 2010 has attitude and a presence that isolates it from the usual shelf hogging suspects that have come to represent Italian white wine. I’d rather have a sip that captures Liguria in a bottle at $21.99 than pay a dollar more for yet another overpriced Pinot Grigio (do the initials S.M. sound familiar?). Not to mention that the latter would have been a pale companion for the plate of sardines grilled with lemon and breadcrumbs accompanied by orzo tossed with lemon oil, toasted pine nuts, and sage from the garden, and a bowl of assorted olives that was devoured al aperto. That and the Bianchetta? Love at first bite.

Wine… Women… Hold the Song

Frank Cipparone Friuli-Venezia Giulia, Piedmont, Sicily, Tuscany March 22, 2013January 5, 2016barbera, dolcetto, Frappato, Friulano, nebbiolo, Nero d'Avola, Ribolla Gialla, syrah 0 Comment

Giovanna Tiezzi of Pacina Winery (img via Facebook)

The recently celebrated International Women’s Day took on a decidedly Italian accent with “La Festa Della Donna” at Osteria in Philadelphia, a dinner honoring four of Italy’s female winemakers. From Elisabetta Foradori in Trentino to Sicily’s Arianna Occhipinti, the emergence of women taking a leading role in viticulture is noteworthy in a country long thought of as a bastion of Old World tradition. In some cases, the patrimony of legendary estates such as Bartolo Mascarello, Bruno Giacosa, and Gianfranco Soldera has passed to and been stewarded by their daughters. In others, like Elisa Semino of Piedmont’s La Colombera, women work alongside fathers and/or brothers.

A common philosophy and approach to winemaking brought together the terroir-breaking representatives at the dinner. Each is committed to organic and biodynamic practices; minimal, non-intrusive techniques in the cellar; and limited production of artisanal wines, less than 4000 cases per year, relative drops in the international wine ocean. As they spoke to the assembled guests, there was an evident yet understated pride in their craft, tempered by a humility that acknowledged their reliance on and reverence for the soil in which they work.

The wines selected for the evening are distributed by The Artisan’s Cellar, a West Chester based facility, and can be ordered through the PLCB’s special order procedures.

Silvana Forte, Le Due Terre

In the eastern hills of Friuli, hard by the Slovenian border, Silvana and husband Flavio Basilicata make wine from indigenous and international grapes. No technology intervenes in their traditional methods, such as the use of natural, native yeasts to promote spontaneous fermentation.

Sacrisassi Bianco 2010, Colli Orientali DOC (PA SLO #528132, $49.19) A blend of local varietals, 70% Friulano (formerly known as Tocai Friulano) and 30% Ribolla Gialla. Unlike many white wines, this stays with you from the intense, focused aromatics of ripe orchard fruits to its lingering aftertaste. Vigorous minerals, the typical salinity found in this area’s wines, and crisp acidity keep the medium body fresh and lively. (89-91)

Valeria Gurrieri, Vini La Favola

The husband and wife team of Valeria and Corrado preside over vineyards on Sicily’s southern coast near the town of Noto. They and the land he inherited are one, and every aspect of their winemaking, from vine to bottle, reflects a synergy absent in mass-produced wine.

Fravolato 2010, Sicilia IGT (#527399, $21.29) Spicy, lively, persistent, flavorful, zesty – just a few of the adjectives that describe a wine fermented in steel by select native yeasts. There’s an undeniable Sicilian earthiness at the core of red berry and cherry flavors from Nero d’Avola, and the 40% Frappato brings a refreshing acidity that tones down some of its partner’s rustic edge. For those who still hold to the idea that red wine doesn’t pair with fish, this was creatively served with pistachio crusted tuna and couscous, a nod to the Arabic influences in Sicilian cuisine. (90-92)

Giovanna Tiezzi, Pacina

Pacina has been described as the “Godfather” of the organic farming movement in Tuscany. Situated in Castelnuovo Berardenga, on the meandering border of Chianti Classico and the Colli Senesi, Giovanna Tiezzi and husband Stefano Borsa produce wine that is not manipulated through technology, resulting in pure expressions of Sangiovese and other grapes.

La Malena 2007, Toscana IGT (#514321, $38.59) A 100% Syrah vinified in concrete tanks, then transferred without filtering to age in large oak casks – and it shows. The mildly leathery, herbal nose says Tuscany, but the mouth just wraps itself around layers of dense, dark fruits with subdued elements of the game, earth, and pepper you’d expect from the varietal. A “big” wine that calls for a comparable food pairing, such as bistecca alla Fiorentina. (90-92)

Summer Wolff, Cantine di Indie

She may not have an Italian name, but she does reside in the Monferrato hills of Piedmont (with fiancé Fabrizio Iuli, a master of powerful, evocative Barbera), and is the driving force behind Indie Wineries, a company that champions and imports the products of boutique wineries throughout the peninsula as well as from France, Slovenia, and California. The wine Summer poured at the dinner is her first label – and, with the positive reactions of the crowd, hopefully not her last.

Vino di Popolo 2011, Langhe DOC (#528131, $17.19) Woodsy scents of the Langhe hills and fruitiness from the region’s stalwart trio of Nebbiolo (50%), Barbera (30%), and Dolcetto (20%) immediately rise from the glass. This has the feel of an everyday wine, a “people’s wine”- earthy and approachable at the same time; flavorful without being overtly juicy; mildly tannic but with an acidic lift that keeps it lively and on target. Someone please pass the agnoletti stuffed with veal (sort of a Piedmontese ravioli) or tajarin (thin pasta ribbons) with a meat ragu! (88-90)

Of Old School Primitivo & Making My Day

Frank Cipparone Puglia January 11, 2013January 21, 2016primitivo 0 Comment

If you drink wine long enough, and drink enough of it, you’ll likely run into a fallow period when your level of satisfaction and the number of WOW moments you encounter are few and far between. November was that sort of month. I hit the Clint Eastwood trifecta – the good, the bad, the ugly. Even the wines worth mentioning were, at best, drinkably acceptable. Nothing that made my palate thank me for opening the bottle. Not one wine that made my day.

Fortunately, as the calendar turned to December, my vinous spirits got a much needed and appreciated resurrection with a little help from my friends. Luncheon at a well-known Manhattan enoteca yielded an Andre Clouet NV 1911, a Blanc de Noirs blended from three excellent vintages of the mid-‘90s, of which only 160 cases were made; a pairing of two Barolos-a 2007 Bartolo Mascarello and Renzo Seghesio’s 1996 “Pajana” Gran Riserva; a 1998 Rioja Gran Riserva “904” from La Rioja Alta; and a 1987 Fiorano Semillon from the vineyards of an eccentric Italian aristocrat whose story is a tale for another day. Additionally, a colleague just back from a viaggio di vino in Tuscany shared a Castello dei Rampolla “Trebianco”, a truly bio-dynamic mix of three varietals fermented and aged in terra cotta amphorae.

New Year’s Eve was the occasion to uncork what was the most intriguing and thought-provoking wine of what had already been as interesting and rewarding a stretch of imbibing as I’d had in years – Antonio Ferrari Il 1949, a 100% Primitivo with over six decades of maturity.

To break down and describe the elements of this masterpiece would be a disservice, akin to dissecting the brushstrokes on a Van Gogh. There are moments when it’s better to let the wine tell its own story. Italians would refer to this extraordinary example of pre-modern winemaking as a vino di meditazione, a wine to savor unaccompanied by food, but which generates contemplation of the inherent veritas in vino.

As I sipped, and as the wine evolved from glass to glass, my thoughts turned to the year of its birth, of what Ferrari envisioned as he patiently aged the wine for decades before consigning it to bottles for further maturation. Of how the vineyards looked during the growing season, and the smell of the earth. The decisions that were made, and the labor involved, in nurturing the grapes from bud break to resting in large, old casks. It was a time before temperature controlled fermentation, before barriques became universal. A simpler time when a farmer’s understanding of the soil and its capabilities wasn’t analyzed and quantified on computer readouts. When nature expressed itself and wasn’t subjected to technological circumvention, and intuitive, hands-in-the-earth winemaking was the rule rather than the exception. An approach that produced wines that may have lacked polish and the artificial “finesse” all too common today, but had character and authenticity. I thought of all those who had a hand in the wine. Did they sample it in its youth? Did they live long enough to see what it became, or had they been outlived by their creation?

It seems like a lot to ponder, but that’s what an old, gracefully aged wine will do for you if you let it. It’s an artifact whose place on the historical timeline of viticulture gives us a sensory feeling of what wine was, a point of comparison to the present. Such a wine didn’t just make my day… it made my year.