Chianti Classico and the SuperTuscans

Recently there have been a few bloggers that have reported about the inclusion of SuperTuscans at the Chianti Classico tasting organized by the Chianti Classico Consorzio in Florence. This is an annual tasting that is held in February and plans are to include SuperTuscans along with the bottlings of Chianti Classico from the Consorzio producers.

Early information had noted the inclusion of the SuperTuscans, but then a few days later, there was a report of a vote to exclude these wines. I thought I would go to the source to learn what is really happening. I emailed Silvia Fiorentini, Marketing and Communications Manager for the Chianti Classico Consorzio, asking her what will and will not be sampled at the event. Here is her response from an email I received this morning:

"Everything remains unchanged. SuperTuscans (only one per estate and only coming from the Chianti territory) will be presented at the producers' desks."

Hopefully, this clears everything up.

It seems that some wine journalists and bloggers were upset that SuperTuscans would be included in this event, believing that Chianti Classico should not have to share the spotlight with these more hyped wines. The decision as it stands now, seems like a very good solution to what could be a problem. Only allowing one SuperTuscan per producer means that these wines will not dominate. Personally, I believe this will make for a more interesting tasting, as it will give the journalists a chance to compare and contrast.

To me, this is all about common sense; it's not about drawing a line in the sand. As regulations stand now, the difference between a Chianti Classico and a SuperTuscan can be minimal; in fact there are some SuperTuscans that could today be identified as a Chianti Classico, given the changes over the past 15 years in regulations. (Kyle Phillips recently wrote an excellent post on the meaning of SuperTuscans. Read it here and read my followup post here.)

I respect the opinions of those who argue for the purity of Chianti Classico and who are against this decision. But I am in favor of this new pronouncement, as it gives a journalist such as myself the option of trying what I want and organizing a tasting that is best suited to my needs. Trying the various wine types against each other provides an invaluable education and to me learning about Italian wines at events such as these are what makes my job so fascinating; discovering all the wines of this territory is truly an ongoing learning process.

A Gem from Francis Ford Coppola

Rubicon Estate, Rutherford, Napa Valley (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

Everyone knows the name of Francis Ford Coppola, most likely as the director of such outstanding films as Apocalypse Now, The Conversation and The Godfather Trilogy, but also as the owner of one of Napa Valley's finest wine estates. Located in the heart of Rutherford, just west of Highway 29, this farm has been one of Napa's most famous Cabernet Sauvignon estates, ever since its founding in 1880 by Gustave Niebaum, a Finnish sea captain.

Niebaum named the estate Inglenook and with an eye on producing reds that could challenge the world's best, received such praise from several corners in Europe. Prohibition slowed things in Napa, but upon repeal, Niebaum's wife's grand-nephew John Daniel, Jr. took over the estate and elevated the wines to even greater heights, which continued through the 1940s, '50s and early '60s. In 1975, Coppola purchased this glorious estate, which had lost much of its glamor and aimed to make great wines again; he named it Niebaum-Coppola.

His first great wine - and one that he continues to produce today - was called Rubicon, primarily Cabernet Sauvignon from a clone Niebaum brought over from France. The first vintage, the 1978, was released in 1985 and immediately brought Coppola new fame as a vintner as well as movie icon. Several vintages later, the wine was hailed as one of Napa Valley's most distinguished, a status it maintains to this day.

While Rubicon has always been the most recognized wine from this estate - indeed, Coppola used this nomenclature as the new name for the estate - there is another outstanding Cabernet Sauvignon produced from these certified organic estate vineyards. Named Cask Cabernet, in honor of the famous Cask wines produced by John Daniel, the wine is 100% Cabernet Sauvignon aged not in small French barrels, a la Rubicon, but in mid-size (500 liter) American puncheons.

The first vintage, the 1995, debuted in 1998; I've tried a handful of vintages since and have always been impressed with the balance and polish of this wine as well as its terroir. Any discussion of terroir with Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon has always been a trick thing, in for no other reason that many of the vineyards are quite young and have yet to develop specific characteristics. But with the Cask Cabernet, we are talking about vineyards that are decades old on soils that yielded some of California's finest Cabernet Sauvignons during the 1940s and '50s.

I tasted the 2006 the other night and greatly enjoyed the wine for several reasons. This is medium-full - 2006 was not a powerful vintage - with a generous mid-palate that offers tightly packed fruit, balanced acidity and firm, but balanced tannins. There is also a distinct earthiness in the finish - what Napa Valley Cabernet lovers refer to as "Rutherford Dust." The oak is admirably subdued and there is excellent persistence. While it is balanced enough for big red meats now, this wine needs time to show its best qualities. It should round out nicely in another 5-7 years and drink well for another 7-10 after that. Given that, the $75 tag for a 100% Cabernet Sauvignon from one of Napa Valley's most historic plots is a reasonable price. Bravo to Francis Ford Coppola and his viticultural and winemaking team on this marvelous accomplishment!

One Step Forward, Two Steps Backwards

Regarding my constant look at the coverage of Italian wine by The Wine Spectator, it seems there is some good news and some not-so-good news. Let's start with the good.

Bruce Sanderson took over the job of writing about Italian wines for the magazine recently and from what I've seen so far (admittedly a small sample), I have to congratulate him on his views. In the November 30 edition, Sanderson rewarded the small estate of Cascina Roccalini in the town of Barbaresco with some very high scores, with the highest rating being a 93 for the winery's 2008 Barbera d'Alba.

I tasted this offering at the winery this past May, thanks to the US importer Terence Hughes, who set up my appointment after I expressed interest in trying these wines, which I had read about on his blog. I loved all the wines from Cascina Roccalini, especially this Barbera, which is an amazing wine (see the post from my other blog). The wines have great varietal purity, impeccable balance and beautiful structure. This is certainly a combination of several factors, including the viticulture of owner Paolo Veglio as well as the superb winemaking of Dante Scaglione, best known to Italian wine lovers as the former winemaker for Bruno Giacosa.

Dante Scaglione, Winemaker, Cascina Roccalini (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

As you might imagine from his previous work, Scaglione makes wines in a traditional style; that is to say, wines aged in grandi botti, large casks as opposed to the small French oak barriques. Many wine writers have joined me in my preference for traditionally aged wines from Piemonte, as they best express a sense of place instead of emphasizing a dark color or a the obvious sweet and spicy notes of small oak.

Readers of this blog know of my disdain for the previous individual who covered Italian wines at the Spectator. Suffice it to say that he clearly preferred modern wines made in an international style. Like what you want, but do your job and give credit to those vintners that continue to make wines that represent their heritage. There are just too many internationally-styled wines out there today. We all expect a different style of cuisine when we go to Italy - we don't go there to have a hamburger (or foie gras, for that matter), so is it too much to ask that producers in Italy continue to be honored for their traditional views? That they should be rewarded for making wines that are singular and not aimed at following a trend?

So thanks to Sanderson for his glowing reviews of the Cascina Roccalini wines. Maybe we will see a shift in the publication's Italian wine coverage, but I'll wait a while before I'm fully satisfied. (By the way, here is a link to Terence Hughes' blog with a mention of Sanderson's reviews. Thanks again to Terence for letting me know about these wines. Production is rather small, so the wines are only in a few markets.)



That's the good news. Now for the bad and I'll keep it brief. The Spectator has recently announced its Top 100 wines for the year, what the publication labels as the "year's most exciting wines." There are exactly nine wines from Italy that made the list.

Now while I think there should me more than nine, I won't criticize them for this; let's face it, there are impressive wines being produced in many countries these days, so they need to let their readers know about them. But it's the choice of wines that irks me. Of the nine wines, seven are from Tuscany. Seven of nine! You'd think this was the only region in Italy that produced notable wines (the other wines - one each - are from the Friuli and Veneto regions). Nothing from Piedmont? Nothing, especially given the new releases of 2006 Barolo and 2007 Barbaresco? Nothing from Sicily, Campania, Alto Adige, Lombardia or Umbria? This proves to me the lack of balanced coverage of Italian wines by the magazine.

Of the nine wines, eight are red. While I expected a significantly larger proportion of Italian reds to whites on this list, this balance is highly questionable. But even if you only have one white wine to represent Italy on your Top 100 list, you select a Pinot Grigio? This is one of the year's most "exciting" wines? Have the writer (or writers) not tried any white wines from Alto Adige or Campania recently? Or other producers from Friuli? There are dozens of impressive wines from these regions, especially from the outstanding 2009 vintage. Just to name a few producers who have made gorgeous Italian whites over the past year, I'd go with Cantina Tramin, Cantina Terlano, Elena Walch, J. Hofstatter (Alto Adige); Edi Keber, Zuani, Livio Felluga, Marco Felluga, Livon (Friuli) and finally Feudi di San Gregorio, Mastroberardino, Vadiaperti and Luigi Maffini from Campania. (One final note on this: the Pinot Grigio is from Attems, a nicely made wine, but one that is hardly exciting, especially when compared to the whites listed above. To make matters worse, the 2008 bottling is the one that made the list, even though the 2009 has been on American retail shelves for several months now, which means that the 2008 is probably gone.)

It seems as though the old administration at the magazine may have had a lot to do with this list, as a few of the wines that made the Top 100 from Italy have been represented before. Yes, there are some new entries here, but again, the list is just a dull one. Let's hope this year is the last time the publication selects such a poor representation of Italian wines. I hope that's the case, but I'm not betting on it.

A Great Tour of some Grand Wines

Reading through Joseph Bastianich's latest book, Grandi Vini: A Opinionated Tour of Italy's Finest 89 Wines (Clarkson Potter, New York, $24.99), is almost as rewarding as sitting down with a winemaker at his cellar or home in Italy and tasting one of his finest releases. You're not in Italy, but you might as well be, given the author's insights combined with his mixture of history, personality and elegantly simple wine descriptions.

Bastianich is one of America's foremost authorities on Italian wines and only someone who has studied this subject for so long could write a book as valuable as this. He currently owns more than a dozen Italian restaurants in New York City and also owns wine estates in Friuli and Toscana in Italy. He grew up working for his parents (everyone knows his mother Lidia) at their Buonavia Resaturant in Queens and then moved on to embrace Italian wines with the help of a nearby wine retailer.

Bastianich was able to travel to Italy, at first with his parents and then on his own and it's clear from this book how enamored he became with the country, its wines and foods. Grandi Vini is more than just a listing of dozens of great wines (though it's an impressive list), it also serves as a travelogue across the Italian peninsula, giving the reader a look into the complex and fascinating world of Italian viticulture.

The famous wines and producers, such as Ornellaia, Sassicaia, Biondi-Santi and Gaja are listed as you would imagine. But what I'm most impressed with are the lesser-known wines the author has included, wines that deserve much more attention than they currently receive. These include such outstanding wines as the Giuseppe Rinaldi "Brunate -Le Coste" Barolo, the Fontanafredda "Lazzarito -La Delizia" Barolo, the "Monte Fiorentine" Soave Classico from Ca' Rugate and the "Vorberg Riserva" Pinot Bianco from Cantina Terlano in Alto Adige (I must admit that I'm thrilled to see these wines in the book, as the are all personal favorites of mine as well).

In case you're one of those wine lovers that only thinks of Italy for its big reds, such as Barolo, Brunello and Amarone, you'll love learning about its notable whites from Friuli, Marche and Campania among others as well as gorgeous reds such as Taurasi, Vino Nobile di Montepulciano and Gattinara, to name only a few. Of course, there have been many fine books that have documented the story of Italian wines, so this is not groundbreaking material, but perhaps only someone as familiar with Italian wines and as passionate as Bastianich could have told this tale so eloquently.

The book is titled as "an opinionated tour" and there are many valuable observations on specific wines and producers. Basianich notes how Edi Keber changed the history of Collio with the introduction of his Collio Bianco, a blend of several local varieties. He writes, "Edi and 80 out of 120 producers in Collio believe that a wine named Collio, crafted from historic and native varietals (sic), is the only future for this tiny border wine region making the best white wines in Italy and perhaps in the world."

An even stronger opinion is revealed in the author's text on Bruno Giacosa, the famed producer of Barbaresco and Barolo. "Bruno Giacosa," the author writes, "has remained almost the only winemaker in Piemonte who is still able to make great wines with other people's grapes." Where else would you read a comment such as that?

As for the chosen wines themselves, Bastianich has opted for a balancing act, as is the proper course for a book on the best Italian wines. Of course, Barolo, Amarone and Brunello are well represented, but there are also several examples of Taurasi, Soave and Chianti Classico as well as classical made sparkling wines from Lombardia and Trentino along with notable reds such as Nero d'Avola and Aglianico del Vulture. The style of the wines vary as well, from traditional to the more modern; writing about Barolo, the author confesses his love for traditional wines, yet also praises the ultra-modern approach taken by Roberto Voerzio.

Finally, I love the writing style Bastianich uses for the descriptions of his wines. This is not a book filled with words such as "opulent", "austere" or "dramatic", but rather words that make these wines easy to understand. For example, discussing the Ca' Rugate "Monte Fiorentine" Soave, he writes, "In the mouth, the wine is round, juicy and elegant. Despite never having seen wood, this wine has body, well-balanced acidity and structure." This is a summary everyone can understand and given the enormous range of Italian wines in general, the author's decision to simplify things and not talk down to the reader is a welcome one.

The combination of history, opinions and insights into particular producers Bastianich has met over the years makes this book a valuable entry in the Italian wine world. Highly Recommended.

The Ins and Outs of Supertuscans

Over at Kyle Phillips's Italian Wine Review, the author has contributed an excellent post on the subject of Supertuscans (read here). Phillips, an American who has been living in Tuscany for several years, discusses a recent tasting of ten Supertuscans he attended and gives his typically thorough notes on the wines.

He also lends a valuable lesson on the history as well as the meaning of these wines. Phillips points out the vagaries of Italian wine laws over the past 30 or so years, mentioning how some wines originally identified as Supertuscans - basically red blends that did not adhere to the strict denomination laws - could now be labeled as a DOC or DOCG wine, thanks to the changes in these categories (such as allowing Cabernet Sauvignon and/or Merlot in a Chianti Classico).

So what is a Supertuscan, the author asks? It is an important question, if not for quality's sake, then certainly for the sake of prestige and marketing. The answer is not as easy as you might imagine, especially when you consider the various approaches that individual wineries in Tuscany take when it comes to labeling their wines. For some the Supertuscan term is a helpful one, as it is a category they can use when they produce a wine that does not fit the DOC or DOCG requirements. A great example of this is Camartina from Querciabella, one of my favorite Supertuscans from one of my favorite Chianti Classico producers. As this wine is a blend of 70% Cabernet Sauvignon and 30% Sangiovese, this cannot be labeled as a Chianti Classico, as that wine type must contain a minimum of 80% Sangiovese. Thus the wine is legally labeled as IGT Toscana Rosso (a big improvement over the old labeling of Vino da Tavola or "table wine."); IGT may be its legal identity, but in reality, the wine is a Supertuscan.



This is great for Querciabella, as the Supertuscan term denotes a special wine, not only in terms of quality, but also in terms of importance and limited availability. It's as though the winery is saying, this is our best wine (it is, along with their monovarietal Merlot called Palafreno) and we can take special care to make this a wine of the highest quality (and quite often a wine of the highest price range for any particular estate). As Querciabella also makes an excellent Chianti Classico, the winery offers both a DOCG wine as well as Supertuscans and the consumers have a choice.

Then you have the case of Tignanello from Antinori, which was one of the first Supertuscans, as Piero Antinori used Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend (along with omitting white grapes such as Trebbiano and Malvasia, which were required until changes in the 1990s); at the time (early 1970s), Cabernet Sauvignon was not allowed in a Chianti Classico, so Antinori could not label it as such. Yet recent changes in DOCG laws now permit small percentages of Cabernet Sauvugnon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc to be part of the blend, so Tignanello can today be labeled as a Chianti Classico, should Antinori choose that option (a typical blend for Tignanello these days is 85% Sangiovese, 10% Cabernet Sauvignon and 5% Cabernet Franc). So why does Antinori not label the wine as a Chianti Classico? In Phillips's words, "Tignanello is quite well enough known as it is, and calling it Chianti Classico would likely have no positive impact on its sales."

I agree completely and think the author is on to something when he writes that "a Supertuscan is what a winemaker wants it to be." That may not fit neatly into wine laws, but it represents reality. These wines represent a philosophy, which is generally a winery telling us that this is a special wine that they believe doesn't fit neatly into one category or if it does, exceeds the typical quality of that category.

Of course, some wines are by necessity categorized as Supertuscans, as they may contain less Sangiovese than is required; this may be a winemaking decision based on the weather, when the Sangiovese did not ripen properly due to cool weather or late season rains (perhaps a blend, let's say of 70% Sangiovese and 30% Merlot, thus not legally a Chianti Classico). In these instances, the Supertuscan category is necessary (though the category is in reality, IGT Toscana Rosso, as mentioned above).

Then you have wineries that believe that they can produce better DOC and DOCG wines and eschew the Supertuscan category. These producers believe that Supertuscans are confusing for consumers, who better understand the historical importance of the Chianti Classico or Vino Nobile di Montepulciano name (among others in Tuscany). Thus their marketing and wine production revolves around a given and not a fleeting category.

In the end, it's an interesting debate. Phillips has written an excellent post (which includes a brief history of Chianti Classico laws); it certainly gave me valuable insight as well as an incentive to express my own thoughts on this category. I'm certain this debate will continue for many years to come.