As in the 36 hours that the Attems Cupra Ramato Pinot Grigio 2011 spent in contact with the grape skins as opposed to the Attems (“regular”) Pinot Grigio 2011, which received no skin contact. The latter offers the palest of pale straw-gold colors, as we would expect; the former, the Cupra Ramato, delivers a very pale peach-copper color, just the faintest flush or blush. So, is Cupra Ramato a rosé or, as they say in Italian, a rosato? No, because a rosé is a pale wine made from red grapes. Cupra Ramato is made from a “white” grape, though that word is misleading. The grapes made into “white” wines, which aren’t really white strictly speaking, are typically green or greenish yellow, and while pinot grigio (and its French counterpart pinot gris) are nominally white wines, the grigio (or gris) segments of the names point to the grape’s rosy-grayish hue. Today’s wines are from Venezia Giulia, part of the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region in northeastern Italy; Austria is to the north, Slovenia to the east, the Adriatic to the south.

Cupra Ramato is, in essence, an “orange wine,” the phenomenon that’s been such a trend — dare we say fad? — in the world of white wine-making for the past 10 or 12 years. The technique of fermenting and aging white wines on the skins is ancient and actually was employed in Italy as recently as the 1950s and ’60s, but producers abandoned the tradition because crystal clean white wines were seen as more commercially viable. Some commentators credit Friulian winemaker Josko Gravner with reviving the practice, though he moved far beyond usual winemaking methods by aging his “white” wines in terra cotta amphorae lined with bees’-wax and buried up to the rims in the earth. Thirty-six hours on the skins is mild compared to the practices of some of the more fanatical orange wine producers. Slovenian
winemaker Ales Kristancic ferments and then ages his Movia Lunar, made from ribolla gialla grapes, seven months in barrels buried 30 feet underground.

The question then, for this post, is What difference does it make that one pinot grigio is made in the accepted (or once-accepted) manner and the other in the new skin-contact fashion? While the differences are not earth-shaking, these two examples of pinot grigio might have come from diverse sensibilities; both are very well-made and quite charming. Northeastern Italy is home to many of the best pinot grigio wines made on the planet — and many of the worst, the most industrial and over-manufactured. Attems, fortunately, can be depended on consistently to make some of the best.

First, the Attems Pinot Grigio 2011, Venezia Giulia, a model that offers far more in body, texture and complexity than the run-of-the-mill pinot grigio. Aromas of almond and almond blossom, orange rind, roasted lemons and yellow plums unfold to reveal hints of lime peel and limestone and a whiff of some mysterious tropical fruit for a touch of the exotic. The wine is blended from grapes derived from vineyards planted in 2002 but also in 1963, so there’s the grip and character of vines that are almost 50 years old; mostly stainless steel but 15 percent aged in French barriques. One feels the texture lively and persuasive on the palate, bright with acidity, scintillating with limestone-and-shale-like minerality yet almost lush with citrus and stone fruit flavors deeply imbued with notes of cloves, quince and ginger. 13 percent alcohol. Drink through the end of 2013. Excellent. About $19.

The Attems Cupra Ramato Pinot Grigio 2011, Venezia Giulia, is not a sibling but a cousin to the producer’s regular pinot griogio, made from different vineyards averaging 15 years old. Again, the wine matured four months, 15 percent in barriques, the rest in stainless steel; first, however, came the 36 hours on the skins. The color is very pale copper-peach; aromas begin with apples and pears, with a touch of orange rind, and then gather notes of dried strawberries, hay, flint and cloves. The whole package is subtle, delicately modulated, lightly spiced; in the mouth the accent is on fresh and dried Rainier cherries and baked pears enlivened by fresh, crisp acidity and undertones of slate, sea salt and a sort of paradoxical mocha-like earthiness. This is very charming, lovely and very easy to drink, but despite the skin contact, it lacks the dynamic personality and depth of the previous wine. Drink through 2013. 12.5 percent alcohol. Very Good+. About $19.

Imported by Folio Fine Wine Partners, Napa, Ca. Map from These were samples for review.