Summer: The Italian job

Packing up the wine for the summer beach holiday was easy—a case of Riesling from Germany and Alsace, another of Beaujolais 2009, a few bottles of Chablis for serious fish dinners, a couple of Champagne, and a serious red for the thick steaks we get from the local butcher in Cornwall.      
       The red was a no-brainer for us, but a surprise to our guests: Vajra Barbera d’Alba 2008, one of our favourite wines. The usual match for steak, especially grilled, is Cabernet or Bordeaux, I know. Surely not for flavour, though, with those tannins and alcohol rasping against the succulence of the meat? Barbera generally has a better balance of acidity and astringency, and a more amenable mix of fruit overtones, for caramelized, juicy steak, and its restraint doesn’t tire out your palate. No snob value, of course, but a better meal in the end.
       I first visited Vajra 23 years ago, right after they’d finished building the new winery, and the first thing that impressed me about the wines was their balance and restraint. The late ‘80s and early ‘90s saw a glut of French oak, after the ebullient Giacomo Bologna won acclaim for his woody barrique Barberas, so Vajra’s, made in large Slavonian oak barrels (as they still are) stood out as clear expressions of the grape and the soil. If anything, the wines have gotten even better. It doesn’t say so on the label, but the grapes are farmed organically. I’m not surprised.

Slow Food and Wine for the 21st Century

I’m neither technophobe not technophile; I do regret the demise of the idea of picking up a book to find out about things, but that’s how it goes. The world is what it is, and my son explains it to me more and more now ( I think he was more pleased than I when one of my books went onto Kindle). The other day, at a tasting for wines rated highly by Slow Food that introduced their new book, I also got a preview of their nifty new app. It’s terrific.
       The Slow Wine application, which is in English (unlike the book) and compatible with iPhone, iPad and iPod touch, was developed by Slow Food Editore, beginning with the book’s database of wineries (1,830) and wines (8,400) reviewed in the paperback edition, then enriched with new features, enabling searching by specific key words, such as the grape variety, the name of the winery, or the wine. There are also numerous wine maps, with information on the regional agronomic background, all easy to use thanks to an integrated Google mapkit.
       The navigation of the wineries’ descriptive pages is completely (and easily) interactive, from service tools like telephone and email, to the geographical localization on the map, or a link to the winery’s website. Three thematic sections introduce the reader to the stories of the people behind the wine production, vineyards and viticulture, and to the wines, reviewed in a simple manner and linked to technical information.
       Slow Wine is available from the App store in a free trial version, allowing access to the “Everyday Wine” pages (wines that have been highlighted by Slow Food for their excellent price-to-quality ratio), with all the basic tools to save favorites, consult the wine maps, and allows access to the list of reviewed wineries. The complete package can be purchased for £5.99.

Wines of the week: At Franco’s restaurant in Mayfair, a tasting of Rosés from 12 countries, great fun and some nice surprises: Rallo “Normanno” Nerello Mascalese 2008 (Sicily), from the slopes of Mount Etna, quite dry, well-structured, medium-bodied, fairly serious; intriguing. I had it again later with garganelli and n’duja (hot and spicy sausage) and smoked ricotta, and it more than held its own. Also, a charming, refreshing sipper, Agricola Vinosia "Rosmunda" 2008 (Catania, made by Mario Ercolino), from the Aglianico grape, a surprisingly light wine, with a zip of acidity and lovely fruit—think strawberry fields forever.

Prego!

After the elegant rigors of Burgundy last month, it’s now the Italians’ more exuberant turn; the long build-up to Vinitaly begins to look like the awards season in Hollywood, although our progression may be more fun, for the journalists anyway. First up was the Gambero Rosso Road Show, a tasting of wines that have won the top awards from the magazine-and-book publisher’s panels. The format is a kind of once-over-lightly, eclectic grouping, too kaleidoscopic to get much meaning from, but there were two wines that stood out, worth reflecting on.
       Both were Amarones, Masi’s “Riserva di Costasera” Classico 2004, and Allegrini’s Classico 2005, beautifully made, carefully polished, the sort of wines that just stop you in your tracks and command your attention and appreciation without effort. Both are made in a dry style, the Allegrini a bit more spicy, the Masi a bit more complex, the Allegrini a well-toned partner for some food (beef or pork cheeks slow-cooked a la bourguignon, say), the Masi a classic, companionable after-dinner wine, as welcome and comforting as an old friend. A good start to the campaign.

IN ITALY, PINOT NO-NO

On vacation in Italy last August, we were in Liguria, on the coast south of Genoa, an area so devoted to fish that the only meat I saw was prosciutto—and white-wine country. Obviously, this was the place to discover what sort of white wine Italians like to drink. The local wine is mostly made from the Vermentino grape, which was almost the new Pinot Grigio a couple of years ago, but couldn’t quite get there. Still, it’s tasty enough, especially when you’re on vacation, eating grilled fish and gnocchi in the sunshine, in the place where pesto sauce was invented. Every wine list we looked at led off with plenty of Vermentino, and some Pigato, the other local grape. None bothered with Gavi, the over-priced white wine of neighboring Piedmont, nor Soave. Here and here, we caught glimpses of Verdicchio.
       What most restaurants and the one upscale wine shop had from outsiders was Fiano from Campania, and a whole lot of different wines from Friuli, source of most of Italy’s best whites. And, of course, invariably, Pinot Grigio (though not always from Friuli, where Italy’s only distinctive versions come from).
       And everywhere we went, to the exasperation of my wife, I interviewed the waiters: What do people here mostly drink? The local wines, I was told. Do they drink Pinot Grigio? The reply, invariably, "Oh yes, signore." Italians? "Oh no, signore—the Americans, the English, the Germans, the Swiss--it’s very popular with them."