Dear Readers, beginning Monday — or Sunday if I can manage — I’ll be posting from Asti, a central city in Piedmont, where I will
be attending the Barbera Meeting 2010 with a group of American wine bloggers. In addition to the festival or conference, we’ll be visiting prominent estates that produce the three “B” wines of Piedmont — Barbera, Barolo and Barbaresco — and eating some fine meals. There’s an official blog, of course.

I’ve traveled and tasted and dined in Tuscany, Umbria and the Veneto, but not Piedmont, so I’m looking forward to this trip a great deal, for the landscape, history and culture, for the wine and food, and for the opportunity to meet and exchange ideas, as well as japes, jests and jabs to the arm, with some fellow bloggers.

Until Monday, then, or Sunday, after a long flight to Amsterdam and then to Milan.

Last night LL made a perfect carbonara. Like so many Italian pasta creations, whether classic or contemporary, the thing is utter simplicity: butter, garlic, pancetta, eggs, Parmesan and Romano
cheeses. The whole process takes even less time than it takes the pasta to cook. We didn’t have pancetta — spiced and cured but not smoked pork belly — but applewood smoked bacon made a fine substitute. Nor did we have Romano cheese, so I grated half Parmesan and half Campo de Montalban, a hard cheese made from goat’s, sheep’s and cow’s milks. The ability to improvise, but not compromise, is essential, in cooking and in life, n’est-ce pas?

Anyway, this was a great dish. To accompany it, I opened – with a deft twist of the wrist — a bottle of the Monte Antico 2006, Toscana, a blend of sangiovese (85%), cabernet sauvignon (10%) and merlot (5%). The label is owned by its American importers, Neal and Maria Empson. The wine is made in the Tuscan province of Pisa by Franco Bernabei.

Monte Antico 2006, as befits its broad grounding in the sangiovese grape, is clean and spare yet warm and spicy. Aromas of dried black and red fruit, dried spice and flowers are woven with orange rind and a sort of floral-rooty black tea and hints of tobacco and smoke. The smokiness increases as the black currant and macerated plum flavors take on their freight of dusty tannins, crushed gravel and vibrant acidity. This is sleek, polished and harmonious and will drink nicely through the end of 2010 or into 2011. Very Good+ and a Great Bargain at about $13, though seen on the Internet as low as $10.
Imported by Empson USA, Alexandria, Va.

Notes on other recently tasted red wines from Italy:
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I once heard a winemaker in Australia say that there were no great wines without oak. This point of view ignores many of the great wines of Chablis and Alsace and portions of Germany, but those are white wines, and perhaps he referred only to red. It’s true that the great red wines of the world, from Bordeaux and Burgundy to Tuscany and Piemonte, from Napa Valley to the Barossa Valley, tend to be aged in wood, and they tend to be made from “noble” grapes like cabernet sauvignon, pinot noir, sangiovese, nebbiolo and syrah. What then do we make of the Serra de Prete 2007, a deep-dyed, towering blockbuster of a red wine made by the producer Musto Carmelito in the rustic Italian province of Basilicata, a wine made with nary a speck of wood? No, my friends, this staggering wine spends six months in stainless steel tanks, four months in cement vats and two months in bottle before it is unleashed to an unsuspecting world. Now if the definition of a great wine is one that will develop and mature into mellow nuance, refinement and subtlety, as we expect with Bordeaux and Burgundy, then Serra de Prete 2007 doesn’t approach greatness. If however a wine achieves a supreme expression of a single grape variety and vineyard, if it practically shivers with authenticity and integrity, well, that’s a different kind of greatness. The grape in question is aglianico del vulture — “vool-CHUR-ay” — and it provides Serra de Prete 2007 with a color that’s like some nocturnal Lovecraftian deep purple shading into black; with intense and concentrated scents and flavors of licorice/oolong tea/tar-stained black currants; with a dense, supple, chewy texture that draws on the power of fathomless tannins; and a tone somber and brooding but not rustic or truculent. In fact, the blessing of keen acidity keeps the wine unexpectedly vibrant and resonant. Best after 2011 or ‘12. Excellent. About $20-$22, Good Value.

Imported by Domenico Selections, N.Y. Available in the Northeast and limited in the rest of the country.

Double disclosure: This wine was sent to me as a review sample, AND I borrowed the image from Benito and modified it.
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In the old days, that is, the 1950s through the 1980s, the grapes that went into Amarone were hung up in the rafters of the wineries or spread out on mats to dry. Now, however, the grapes — corvina and rondinella — are dried in temperature-controlled rooms and carefully monitored. Recioto della Valpolicella Amarone, as the wine used to be called, is the great red wine of the Veneto region, though it must be carefully made to retain freshness and clarity. One that does just that is the Masi “Costasera” Amarone Classico 2005, a dark vigorous, boldly flavorful wine, deeply spicy, dauntlessly dry yet succulent. Aromas of fruit cake and spice cake are twined with dried black and blue fruit and hints of orange rind, toasted almonds and bitter chocolate; nothing raisiny or toffee-ish mars the wine’s sleekness and its profound presence or tone. Paradoxically, this Amarone is dramatic, displaying a flair for overt statement of fruit, structure and acidity, yet at the core, it is calm, generous and, through the finish, austere. Drink now through 2015 to ‘18 with hearty stews and braised meat or strong cheeses, or allow it to mature into a wine that encourages contemplation and meditation. Excellent. Prices range ridiculously across the board for this wine, as in from about $35 to $65.

Imported by Folio Fine Wine Partners, Napa, Cal. Tasted at a trade event.
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The Moccagatta Nebbiolo 2007, from Piedmont’s Langhe region, represents the entry level wine for the Minuto family’s Moccagatta estate, founded in 1952. Made from 100 percent nebbiolo grapes (from young vineyards) and aged a scant six months in old barriques, the wine offers the typical nebbiolo aromas of tar, smoke, violets, spiced plums, damp leaves and moss and gravel. Flavors of macerated black currants and blueberries are draped on a spare, taut structure whose bright acidity cuts a swath on the palate. Nothing opulent or easy here; the wine is an eloquent expression of a grape at a level of purity and intensity that’s especially gratifying from vines that are less than a decade old. Dried heather and thyme seep through the bouquet after a few minutes in the glass, as the wine gets increasingly spicy, dry and austere, with touches of old paper and dust. While the Moccagatta Nebbiolo ‘07 doesn’t display the dimension or detail of Moccagatta’s more expensive single-vineyard Barbarescos, it’s an admirable statement of a grape variety and winemaking philosophy. Best from 2010 or ‘11 through 2015 to ‘17. Bring on the pappardelle con coniglio. Excellent. About $25.

Marc de Grazia Imports, Winston-Salem, N.C.
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From the vast sea of wine turned out in Puglia comes this distinctive number, the Masserie Pisari Negroamaro 2005, Salento Rosso. Made from a grape that’s often treated like a bludgeon, the Masserie Pisari ‘05 takes rich, deep black currant, blueberry and plum scents and flavors and adds exotic spice and a note of wild cherry. After a few moments in the glass, matters turn tarry, briery and brambly; the wine grows more exotic, wilder and spicier, more roasted and smoky, with an expanding tide of dusty tannins, dried thyme and rosemary and a warm, meadowy aspect, all enlivened by brisk acidity. The wine does sort of hit you over the head, but gently; there’s something almost droll about it. Definitely calls for burgers, pizzas and hearty pasta dishes. Very Good+. About $16, which is what I paid in Memphis, Tenn., but prices on the Internet go as low as $10.
A Marc de Grazia Selection for Vin Divino, Chicago.
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I wish I hadn’t paid $19 for this wine; the national median is about $16. We live and learn (or not). That range in prices isn’t the fault of the wine though. The Marcarini Fontanazza 2008, Dolcetto d’Alba, which we drank on Pizza-and-Movie Night, opens with aromas of black cherries and plums with a background of sour cherry, a tea-like spice and a touch of dried orange rind. In other words, this is classic Piedmontese dolcetto, with that good old dependable northern Italian acid structure, piano-string taut and vibrant, and the requisite black currant-leather-tobacco nature that leans lightly on supple tannins. Here’s another wine that sees no oak and is all the better for it. Very Good+. About (oh, well) $16.
Imported by Empson USA, Alexandria, Va.
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A perfect dish for seasonal transition, that is from Summer into Fall, is this recipe from the September Gourmet magazine. It touches five essential food groups — chicken, figs, garlic, bacon and thyme — for a combination that’s savory, hearty and flavorful, with a touch of woodsy sweetness. The recipe calls for Cornish game hens, but the examples we see in stores here look like small mutant chickens, not the petite birds of yore, so we used chicken thighs, which we had on hand. The dish did not suffer in the slightest. In keeping with our new philosophy — two small meals a day –LL and I each ate one thigh (and one piece of bacon), along with mashed potatoes and green beans, leaving some for lunch this weekend.

For wine, I opened the Campo Santa Lena Valpolicella Classico 2007, from Villa Monteleone, located in the town of Gargagnago, in the central-western reaches of the Valpolicella Classico region. Valpolicella Classico, in the Veneto, like Chianti Classico in Tuscany, is a delimited vineyard zone, not a style of wine. Theoretically, wines from Valpolicella Classico, closer to Lake Garda and at a higher elevation, will be better than “regular” Valpolicella because of the more salubrious geography and micro-climate. Indeed, as the vineyards of Valpolicella spread easterly toward the city of Verona and flatter land, the more lackluster or at least merely drinkable the wines tend to be.

Campo Santa Lena Valpolicella Classico 2007 is a blend of the typical grapes of the region: Corvina and rondinella with some croatina and molinara. Made all in stainless steel, the wine is a medium ruby color with inviolable violet at the center. The bouquet offers black currants, dusty plums, a whiff of black pepper and dried herbs. In the mouth, Campo Santa Lena ‘07 is robust and earthy, but not heavy; in fact, it carries itself with point and polish, invigorated by lithe acidity. Flavors of black cherries and plums are permeated by chewy, slightly brushy tannins and back-notes of tar and bitter chocolate. A rewarding drink with our roasted chicken, figs and thyme with bacon and garlic chips, it would be equally suitable with a variety of hearty autumnal fare, especially game-birds. Very Good+. About $20.

Imported by Domenico Selections, New York, whose wines are now available not only in the Northeast but in North Carolina and Texas.

… to be here tonight speaking about our elevation to DOCG status, the highest honor that can be bestowed on an Italian wine. Yes, thank you, thank you, give it up for the little guy! Ha, ha! O.K., whew, thanks! I mean it! You’re great! You’re wonderful! Ha, ha! Yeah!

O.K., so, what does this all mean?

Take a look at the chart projected behind me. Uh, Guido, the chart? O.K., Italian technology, it’s the best, right? I mean, the trains run on time.

Anyway, you see there, straight north of Venice is Conegliano and straight west of that town is Valdobbiadene and in the region, Prosecco di Conegliano-Valdobbiadene, is the best Prosecco produced. And we’re so pleased, so pleased, you cannot imagine, to have the coveted Denominazione di origine controllata e garantita bestowed upon this region of beautiful and historic authenticity. We worked, we waited, we prayed, we petitioned Luca Zaia, the Minister of Agriculture, a native son of Veneto, and now it is here. With this elevation from plain D.O.C status to D.O.C.G, we join the sacred ranks of only 45 other wines in Italy, including such notable wines as Chianti, Gavi, Bardolino Superiore and Vernaccia di San Gimignano. Yes, we have arrived and we’re here to stay!

And in order to combat the shameless pirating of the Prosecco name, to thwart the assault on our authenticity, the government has generously bestowed a Prosecco D.O.C on eight provinces, all the way to Trieste, where nobody is actually making Prosecco, but who knows, they might want to some day! I mean, we’re owed! In Champagne, they’re adding 2,500 acres to the official vineyard sites, so why shouldn’t we add most of northeastern Italy. My grandmother has always wanted to grow Prosecco grapes and now she has her chance, and what’s good for Grandmama, well, it’s good for Italy!

Anyway, you’re a great crowd, I love you, really. Enjoy the Prosecco the waiters are passing out to your tables now, and remember, as our greatest poet, the venerable Dante wrote:

If you’re just passing time,
Prosecco is your wine.

Thank you, thank you, and God bless!

… but blueberries and cherries are good for warding off the accumulation of uric acid that can lead to a gout episode (sorry to be clinical) and yogurt, well, yogurt is good for something, in fact, LL asserts that “yogurt is totally good for everything!” so in the interest of good health — I also despite that term “wellness” — I’m trying to eat more fruit and berries (pineapple is also a top-rated gout preventative), so a couple of days ago I cleaned some Rainier cherries, blueberries and raspberries and put them in a bowl, and I scooped out a spoonful of the no-fat Greek yogurt that LL buys, and I thought, “Ugh, yuck, gack, no, I can’t do this.” BUT, I had a brilliant idea! I put the yogurt in a little bowl, stirred in a dollop of honey and then very carefully, drop by drop, added some aged balsamic vinegar and stirred that in too. I bought this tiny bottle for LL for her birthday, oh, maybe 15 years ago. We were having lunch at the old 61 restaurant in the basement of the Barney’s on Madison at 61st Street and before leaving we wandered around the food shop. There was a display of long-aged and rare balsamic vinegars, and we were particularly fascinated by this one, from the firm of Cavalli cav. Ferdinando that cost $100 for 100 milliliters; friends, that’s 3.4 fluid ounces. Only 333 bottles were produced. When we were back in Memphis, I called a friend in New York and sent him the money to go to Barney’s and buy one of those precious bottles. And fresh mint from the Farmers Market, as you can see in these images.

Anyway, I’ll tell you that that was some yogurt I could get my tongue and taste-buds around!

So, the next time (today) I wanted to eat some fruit and berries and doctored yogurt — maybe there’s a market for this — we had peaches from the Farmers Market and strawberries that some friends had brought over. I washed and and peeled and sliced (not necessarily for everything) and jazzed up the yogurt and was about to take a bite when I had ANOTHER BRILLIANT IDEA!! I was really missing an opportunity to try a dessert wine. I mean, the fruit and yogurt concoction was for lunch today, but what the hell, that’s what being a professional is all about.

Actually, I have 10 or so dessert wines that I have been meaning to try, so here was a chance to knock one off, so to speak. I poked around in the wine fridge and pulled out a bottom of Mendelson Muscat Canelli 2002, Napa Valley. This is a fairly unusual wine for California in that it’s made in the French vin doux natural style, that is lightly fortified with grape spirits (to 14.2 percent alcohol), and then after fermentation it’s aged two years in French oak. The result is pungent and potent, a wine bursting with notes of peach and apricot, banana and ripe mango; it’s spicy, honeyed and roasted, and exhibits profound earthiness and minerality. The texture is thick, almost viscous, and after a few minutes in the glass the wine begins to exhibit signs of spicy, blond wood, as well as touches of bananas Foster, baked apples and macerated peaches. The finish brings in candied ginger and orange peel. Yes, this is quite an effort, best enjoyed with a few sips on its own or with a shortbread cookie, not, I have to say, with fruit, berries and pumped up yogurt. 250 cases of half-bottles were produced. Excellent. About $33 for a half-bottle.

So, I’m thinking, though the Mendelson Muscat Canelli ‘02 was terrific — it inspires silence and contemplation — what would go better with my yogurt and berry lunch? Back to the wine fridge I went and pulled out a bottle of the Vino dei Fratelli Moscato d’Asti 2007 from Piedmont. The alcohol on this wine is only 5.5 percent. It’s incredible freshness and appeal results from the winemaking process; the must (that is the mass of crushed grapes) is kept just above zero, and when wine is needed for bottling, the must is fermented and the wine is bottled immediately. The color is pale straw; the bouquet offers a beguiling wreathing of lemon-lime, almond and almond blossom, a hint of apple, a touch of jasmine. The wine is sweet, lightly spritzy, delicately fruity in a citrusy-apple sense and though basically simple and direct, it’s also tasty and charming and was delightful with the yogurt, fruit and berries. That’s the twins, Castor and Pollux, on the label. Very Good. About $15.

I recently received a bottle of the first issue of Cecchi’s Natio Chianti 2007, a wine made from organic grapes certified by CCPB. The front label states, “Product with Grapes from Organic Farming,” while the back label says, “Made with Organic Grapes.” Notice that the phrase “organic wine” is not used. That’s because in order to be called “organic wine” that wine would have to be not only made from certified organic grapes but every step of the winemaking process would have to be certified organic, something that the governments and certifying agencies of the world have not figured out a way to measure and regulate.

It’s not mentioned on either front or back label, but Natio Chianti 2007 is suitable for vegans (and possibly Venusians) because, as the press materials state, “No animal by-products were used in production.” And you, My Readers, are thinking, “Animal by-products? Gack! What in heck-to-Remus are you talking about?”

Allow me to explain. One might assume that wine is completely safe for cuisineophiles of every persuasion, from outright carnivores to the most fragile of picky macrobioticists, but such is not the case. There is more to wine than mere water, alcohol and chemicals. A process in winemaking called “fining” has traditionally employed substances from the animal kingdom (or from the fridge, to be practical about it). After fermentation, wine is usually left with a multiplicity of microscopic elements called colloids. Typically, a wine that offers a plush or viscous texture contains more colloids than a light, more delicate wine; removing colloids can also make a wine astringent, though they lend a wine detail and dimension. Fining, in other words, represents a trade-off in terms of a wine’s character, but the process also clarifies wines and eliminates cloudiness or haze.

Substances used in fining are ancient (relatively speaking) in origin; they include egg whites, milk, isinglass, made from fish bladders, and (not so ancient) bentonite, a form of clay found chiefly in Wyoming. These substances are harmless and are almost completely absent from the finished wine. Each has advantages and disadvantages — bentonite is so absorbent that it can diminish the flavor of a wine — but nobody, on the other hand, is going to buy a bottle of wine that isn’t perfectly clean and clear.

Naturally, the idea that wine may contain a glimmer of a molecule of egg white or milk makes it inappropriate for vegetarians or their more extreme cousins, the vegans. Very few wineries allow this sort of information to be printed on their labels because the it would sound more scary than helpful. An exception is Randall Grahm, owner of Bonny Doon Vineyards, who a couple of years ago, after he took the Ca’ del Solo vineyard biodynamic, began stating on back labels the ingredients in the wine and the substances used to make the wine, including fining agents. I doubt if many (or any) producers will follow his lead, at least until government regulations require such statements, as inevitably they will. Grahm is predictably ahead of the curve.

I asked Jane Kettlewell, director of public relations for Banfi Vintners, whose Excelsior Wine and Spirits division imports the wines of Cecchi, why the vegan opportunity was not explored on labels of Natio. Here is her reply:

“It seems there was very little space indeed for back label copy and the conclusion was that as most wines do at some level have some connection with an animal by-product, that vegans don’t tend to be wine drinkers. This seems like a Catch 22 situation – the vegans won’t find us if they’re not aware of the vegan-friendly nature of this wine, but on the other hand, vegans aren’t stampeding into wine stores to begin with.”

True enough, but I hate to think of vegans not enjoying wine with their tofu enchiladas because of a fear of wine’s supposed animal connection.

And the wine? Well, the Cecchi Natio Chianti 2007 falls into the category of Decent Quaff. We drank the bottle with pizza Saturday night and that sums it up: An enjoyable but not memorable Chianti, a little rustic, but delivering authentic sangiovese scents and flavors of dried fruit, dried flowers and spice in a good structure that balances tannin and acid. A meatloaf, burger, pizza wine. Very Good. About $16. I would be more comfortable if it cost $12 or $13, but everything organic is more expensive. It costs to be natural.

Carton of eggs image from middlezonemusings.com. Glass of milk images from bedzine.com.

Last night was one of those occasions when LL says, “Let’s not go to the grocery store. We’ll find what we need at home.” She’s good at this.

So: little sausage meatballs made by squeezing thumb-sized portions of sausage from the skin, well-browned in a skillet. Garlic and very ripe cherry tomatoes, fresh thyme and rosemary simmered in about half a cup of tomato broth left over from last Saturday, when I marinated tomatoes, green onions and basil in olive oil for the pizza (I always save the “tomato broth” from after the tomatoes drain), all this slowly stewed, as the tomatoes almost disintegrate and gain intensity. Then — simplicity itself — the warm pasta in the bowls, the meatballs, the sauce, some leaves of basil and Parmesan shavings. The result: One of the best pasta dishes I have ever tasted, bountifully flavorful and concentrated, bursting with freshness but also with the savoriness of a sauce long-cooked. Wow!

For wine, I opened the Campo San Vito Valpolicella 2004, Classico Superiore Ripasso, a wine that also conveyed a sense of intensity and concentration. Ripasso is a method in which certain Valpolicella wines are “refermented,” in the March after harvest, on the lees of Amarone wines; the process lends these wines added richness and depth. The color here is almost motor-oil black, with a glowing blue/purple rim; the bouquet is minty and meaty, bursting with cassis, Damson plums, smoke, licorice and lavender and a whole boxful of dried spices. Yes, this is so exotic that it’s close to pornographic, but the wine is not too easy, on the one hand, or overbearing, on the other, because it possesses the acid and tannic structure, as well as two years in oak, to express its purposeful nature and rigorous underpinnings. Flavors of black currant and plum, with a touch of mulberry, are permeated by spice, potpourri and granite, as if all ground together in a mortar; the finish, increasingly austere, gathers more dust and minerals. Quite an experience and really good with our dinner. Limited availability in the Northeast. Excellent. About $25.

Imported by Domenico Selections, New York.

Last night, of course, was Pizza & Movie Night around here, and by six p.m. I was fretting a bit about the wine. “We have tons of cabernets and zinfandels and merlots,” I said to LL, “but I want something a little lighter, a little more approachable, a little less alcoholic.”

“Like what?” she said.

“Oh, a carefree Dolcetto or Barbera, a Italian red with good acid and fruit, not too serious but not frivolous either.”

“You know,” she said, “you can always go out and buy a bottle of wine.”

Drum-roll. The earth stands still. Time stops.

Readers, you understand that I do not buy a lot of wine. I mean as a writer about wine and a reviewer of wine most of the wine I (and we) drink, taste, sip, comes to the house by UPS or FedEx. When I wrote a weekly national newspaper column (1984-2004), an ungodly amount of wine came to the building every day, I mean, cases of wine. I don’t get nearly as much wine now, but it’s a goodly number of bottles that can be handled very nicely, thank you very much.

Now, I’ll confess that for three years — 2005, ‘06 and ‘07 — I bought heaps of wine. I had my now-defunct website then and in December of ‘06 started this blog, and I was always buying wines to “fill in the gaps,” and a couple of times a year I would host a blind tasting here at the house and I would buy wine, expensive wine, for those occasions. And Champagne, I mean, friends, you gotta have Champagne in the fridge! Finally, LL, said, “F.K., you’re outta control. We can’t afford this.” And she was right. You may say, “Wasn’t the wine you bought tax-deductible?” Well, sure, however the accountant could use the tax deduction to help out, but still, every month the old credit card statements come around, and they have to be paid.

So, the point is that I rarely buy wine nowadays, but when LL said, “You can buy a bottle of wine. What you’ll looking for should be pretty inexpensive,” it was like a revelation. Anyway, I got into the car and hied my way to The Wine Market, a retail store that’s about a 10-minute drive from our place. I’ve known the owner for years — he worked at another store for a long time, nursing his dreams — but since it was about 6:15 when I got there, he wasn’t around. I approached the counter and explained to the young people there what I was looking for. I did not say, “Hi, I’m Fredric Koeppel, world-famous wine-writer and blogger, blah blah blah.” What I did say was, “Hey, I need a wine for my pizza tonight, not a cabernet or zinfandel, nothing so big. The pizza is mainly marinated tomatoes and basil with a little pancetta. Maybe if you have a lighthearted Dolcetto or Barbera … ?”

A rather serious, even scholarly-looking young man detached himself from the others and said, “I think I can help you. Let’s go over here. We should be able to find something that will do. How much do you want to spend?”

“Oh, $15 to $20.”

I followed him to a section where a variety of fairly inexpensive Italian wines were displayed, and he pointed to a bottle of Colognole Chianti Rufina 2003. I am, I’ll admit, a bit leery of Chianti, a wine that too often turns out to be dried out and austere. Also, this was a 2003, almost six years old. In fact, I said, “This is a 2003, it’s almost six years old.”

“Right,” he said, “but the tannins have settled down really nicely and mellowed out. This is pretty smooth, and it’s got the fruit.” And it cost $17.

“O.K.,” I said, “I’ll try it.”

How was the wine? Let me put it this way: Basically, today’s post is in the form of a Thank You to the young man whose name I do not know for steering me completely in the right direction and, even more, for being courteous and accommodating.

Chianti Rufina is a region of Chianti production northeast of the city of Florence. Rufina was recognized as long ago as the mid-18th Century, before it became associated with the name Chianti, as an area capable of producing superior wines, because of the soil in the foothills of the Apennines and because the geography allows for cool temperatures at night. (Chianti was originally further south in Tuscany, around Siena.) Colognole, one of the best (and most picturesque) estates of Rufina, has been in the Spalletti family since the 1890s and is today operated by Contessa Gabriella Spalletti.

Colognole 2003 was exactly what I was looking for. Last night’s pizza was simple. I marinated three chopped tomatoes, red onion and basil in olive oil and a touch of balsamic vinegar for an hour, then drained the mixture carefully; we don’t want no stinkin’ soggy pizzas! I had a bit of guanciale — the pancetta I bought last month had turned so moldy that it looked like a science project gone horribly wrong — so I chopped that (I mean the guanciale, which is cured hog-jowl) and fried it. A few dots of fresh mozzarella and some grated Parmesan, and that was it.

The wine sported a lovely, warm medium brick-red color; aromas of dried red cherries and red currants with dried baking spices wafted from the glass. After a few moments, heady scents of lilac and rose petal began to weave their seductive way, followed, yet again, by elements of earthy minerals, moss and black tea. Those qualities, in a spare and lithe manner, make up the flavors too. Colognole typically ages 12 months in 660-gallon Slavonian and French oak casks, far larger than the standard 59-gallon French barrique, and then ages additionally in stainless steel tanks and concrete vats. The wine is indeed smooth and mellow, but it’s animated by a keen edge of acidity that keeps the package lively and taut (and that helped the wine work beautifully with the tomato-dominated pizza). What a treat! This is what old-fashioned Chianti is all about. Excellent for drinking through 2011 or ‘12, and a Bargain at $15 to $17. Worth a Search.

Imported by Vin Divino, Chicago.

What do you do when fava beans are in season? (And we are getting to the end of the season for fresh favas.) Well, in our house you make fava risotto, which LL did Sunday night, from a recipe found in Chez Panisse Vegetables by Alice Waters (HarperCollins, 1996), which also uses green peas and tender asparagus tips for a true taste of Spring.

Vicia faba has been a mainstay of Mediterranean cuisine since ancient times. J.G. Vaughan and C.A. Geissler, in The New Oxford Book of Food Plants (Oxford University Press, 1997), report that the earliest archeological findings of the beans date to 6800-6500 B.C. in Israel, and that the plant apparently spread south along the Nile Valley to Ethiopia and eastward to northern India and China, which now, thousands of years later, produces 65 percent of the world’s crop.

Favas are as protected from harm as a Victorian damsel in her multiple foundation garments. First, the bean must be extracted from the long tough pod, which, depending on the species, holds six or eight beans. Once that is done, the bean must be stripped of its pale green skin, which grows increasingly bitter as the season progresses and the plants mature. Very young favas may be eaten with the skin on and in parts of Italy are consumed raw with sharp young cheese. Waters mentions that dried fava beans, which are usually available at Italian and Middle Eastern food-stores, may be soaked overnight, drained and dried and then fried crisp in olive oil; these are served with salt and lemon wedges, as a snack or appetizer.

Anyway, the risotto, for which one makes a fava puree, was wonderfully redolent and sweetly flavored with fresh and mild green vegetable earthiness. It was pretty too, dotted with peas and asparagus and garnished with shaved Parmesan.

I decided that night to try three Soave wines from one producer, and I can already hear you saying, “F.K., forget it, I’m closing up shop here and going to watch reruns of Gilmore Girls. I mean, don’t you know that the Soave region is overextended geographically and overcropped generally and that even the establishment of a DOCG in 2002 not only didn’t improve quality but complicated almost beyond comprehension the minutiae of label designations.”

Uh, well, yes, thank you, I did know that, and I know that reputable producers of Soave wines have a hard row to hoe, I guess literally and figuratively, in persuading American consumers that what they make bears little resemblance to the familiar swill — good name for a rock band — that emanates from the whorish alluvial plains instead of the rigorous hillside vineyards. One of these hard-working producers is I Stefanini, a small estate owned by the Tessari family since the 1950s. Vineyard manager is Valentino Tessari; winemaker is his son, Francesco. Production is about 2,500 cases annually of three levels of Soave: Il Selese is a basic Soave; Monte de Toni is Soave Classico; Monte di Fice is Soave Classico Superiore. Tessari father and son are particularly to be praised for raising the quality of Soave without resorting to oak barrels, the usual procedure in neglected or rising wine regions where producers throw oak at a wine to pump up its appeal to the so-called American palate. These wines see no oak and are all the better for it.

We tried Il Selese and Monte de Toni while cooking dinner, had the Monte di Fice with the risotto and then went back to try the others.

I Stefanini wines are imported by Domenico Selections, New York, and are, sadly, limited in distribution.
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I Stefanini “Il Selese” 2007, Soave, made completely in stainless steel and with 10 percent chardonnay blended with the typical garganega grapes, offers an enticing bouquet of stone fruit, yellow plums, lanolin and little waxy white flowers and a zap of spice. Flavors of roasted lemon and lemon curd unfurl hints of peach, spiced pear and dried herbs, and as the wine warms slightly in the glass, it becomes positively summery, with a whiff of meadow flowers and clean earth. All of these qualities are fused and fueled by vibrant acidity. A beguiling Soave for drinking through 2010. Very Good+, and a Bargain at $11 to $13.
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Made in stainless steel from 100 percent garganega grapes, I Stefanini “Monte de Toni” 2006, Soave Classico, manages that difficult feat of seeming intense and subtle simultaneously, and in that leap of craft and faith establishes itself as an entity that scarcely exists in the realm of other Soaves. Lovely in tone and character, seductive in texture and remarkably floral is this wine, and yet its dryness and brisk, almost clinging acidity take your palate by surprise, and its layers of dusty minerality announce a serious intention that fortunately does not belie its delicious flavors of spiced lemon and pear. A wonder. Drink (well-stored) through 2011 or ‘12. Excellent, and a raving great value at $15 to $17.
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I Stefanini “Monte di Fice” 2006, Soave Classico Superiore, is a real mouthful of wine that exhibits the purity and intensity of which the garganega grape is capable, one element of which is, unexpectedly, elegance. Lemon in every aspect — fresh, lip-smacking lemon, roasted lemon, lemon curd and lemon drop — characterize aromas that are permeated by lanolin and white flowers (similar to its younger cousin, Il Selese, but more pronounced) and a prominent mineral quality. An amazing texture that’s almost powdery is enlivened by crisp acid, while a few minutes in the glass reveal notes of lavender, tarragon (for a slight herbaceous touch) and spiced peach. The wine is quite dry, earthy, enclosed in limestone, yet the finish is light, spare and thirst-quenching. Another terrific effort. Drink (well-stored) through 2011 or ‘12. Excellent. About $20 to $22.
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My linkedin profile.

Even the heel of Italy’s boot gets more wine respect these days than Campania, once home — in the days of toga-wearing Romans — to some of the Mediterranean’s greatest wines. Though a shadow of its former vinous self, Campania seems poised for a comeback. Slowly, the region of which the colorful and paradoxical city of Naples is the capital is producing more wines from its official D.O.C. (denominazione di origine controllata) areas; as recently as 2005, Campania’s output of D.O.C. wines was only 3.5 percent of the total production, which means, basically, that 96.5 percent of the wine made in Campania is industrial plonk. Transformation is due.

Much of the change in Campania — the meaning of the word, “countryside,” conveys a sense of its ancient agricultural heritage and importance — is being fueling by small, dedicated producers who work with indigenous grapes, often in organic or biodynamic conditions. While not denigrating the achievements of Mastroberardino, the producer that has dominated the wine industry in Campania, at least southern Campania, for decades, it’s refreshing to see new and authentic wines made from unfamiliar grape varieties emerging from forgotten geographical and historical byways.

Here are reviews of six wines from Campania that we tried recently, two whites and four reds that are notable for their personality, individuality and depth. These are imported by Domenico Selections, a fledgling company in New York that focuses on artisan Italian wines. Availability is limited.

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People looking for obscure grape varieties to add to their lists for admission to The Century Club will be happy that the Reale Andrea Aliseo 2007, Colli di Salerno (“hills of Salerno”) is a blend of 40 percent each biancazita and biancolella and 20 percent pepella. The rest of us will delight in Aliseo’s highly individual qualities, its winsome aromas of spicy lemon drop and roasted lemon wreathed with quince and smoke, its silken texture that takes energy from vibrant acid and notes of damp limestone. While this feels like a golden, sunny wine, its spicy character deepens after a few minutes, adding, to the lemon and pear flavors bass tones of earth, snuffed candle and, curiously, Yunnan tea. Very Good+. About $20.

We drank this quite contentedly with a pasta I put together of leftover roasted salmon, broccoli florets and bread crumbs, grounded by minced garlic and red onion.
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The Angelrosa Greco di Tufo 2007 sports a radiant golden color. A bouquet of nettles, brambles and green tea opens to a beguiling scent of mountain meadow honey (though the wine is bone dry), pear and woody spice. The structure is spare but not sinewy, and the texture is restrained, elegant yet full and round; you feel the wine molding itself to your tongue and palate, but not obsequiously. Citrus flavors are given a zesty grapefruit finish that charges through minerally layers of shale and damp pomace. This is a deeply individual and completely satisfying white wine that will probably drink well (stored properly) through 2011 or ‘12, particularly with shellfish. Excellent. About $23.
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We drank the Reale Cardamone 2006, Colli di Salerno, with pizza, and its robust blend of 80 percent piedirosso grapes (“red-foot”) and 20 percent tintore proved to be delicious yet serious enough that it called to mind dry-aged rib-eye steaks or roasted venison with juniper. Matured 10 months in a combination of stainless steel tanks and large oak casks, the wine is deep, dark, smoky, spicy and tarry. Aromas of dried red and black currants, plums and mulberries are permeated by mossy earth and minerals, sassafras and something wild like blueberries and rose hips. Vibrant with keen acidity, the wine fills the mouth with notes of lavender and licorice, blackberry and blueberry jam, but it’s formidably dry and rigorously structured; tannins you could roll around on your tongue lend resonance and austerity to the finish. Drink through 2012 or ‘13. Excellent, and Great Value at about $20.
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Part of the Terra di Vento Petrale Aglianico 2006, Colli di Salerno, went into a Bolognese sauce I made one night; the rest went into our wine glasses. Aglianico is one of the great red grapes of Campania; here it is translated into a rich, warm, spicy wine that seethes with macerated and roasted black currants and plums deeply imbued with sassafras — is that quality inherent in reds from Colli di Salerno? — and sandalwood, smoke and minerals and a vivid charcoal edge. It doesn’t take long for elements of dry underbrush and brambles to emerge and for the wine to turn increasingly austere. This will probably be best from 2010 through 2013 or ‘14. Very Good+. About $20.
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You could eat the rich, meaty, tarry bouquet of the Boccella Rasott 2006, Campi Taurasini, with a spoon. Made from 100 percent aglianico grapes, the wine features macerated red currants, plums and raspberries with a hint of spicy red cherry. Wood is present, from six months in oak, but the relationship of and the integration between fruit, texture and structure could be used as a model in the world’s wine academies. There’s a touch of extravagance, even wildness in the plush density and richness of this wine, but polished, grainy tannins and burgeoning elements of earth and minerals keep it honest. This cries out for a veal chop grilled with rosemary, hot and crusty from the fire. Excellent. About $24.
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The blockbuster of this group is the Reale Andrea Borgo di Gete 2005, Colli di Salerno, made from 100 percent tintore vines that average 80 or 90 years. This is a wine notable for detail, dimension and dignity shot through with dark glamor. The first impression is of aromatic woody spices like cloves and allspice, with that hint of astringency that allspice conveys. Macerated and roasted black and red currants and plums are packed with spice, with licorice and dried orange rind and black tea deeply imbued with robust tannins and a dauntless mineral quality. The wine ages 10 months in a combination of French barriques and casks, that is small and large barrels, contributing to a structure whose firmness seems unassailable. For all its size and density, however, for all the earthiness and dust and resonance, this is an incredibly alluring, even likable wine, though it should be saved for your heartiest fare. Best probably from 2010 through 2015 or ‘18. Excellent. About $55.
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