My husband and I found this wine intriguing and satisfying. Surprise of surprise, our local health food store in Columbus, OH had a Mastroberardino Aglianico Campania 2011. Another local large combined grocery and dry goods store had an Aglianico del Taburno Fidelis 2010. Both combined brightness with dry taste in a balanced way. The Mastro tasted bright and light, more raspberry but provided a lasting dry taste. The Fidelis had a plum aroma but also held brightness and a smooth finish with the dryness. These wines strike me as an interesting, complex option to Beaujolais or other reliably smooth dry wines. Sorry I cannot compare with the nebbiolos directly. Memory tells me that the nebbiolos do not match the bright taste of these wines at the first taste. I'm grateful to have found a dry wine that possesses a rich plum taste! This wine should accompany some of my favorite sweet Asian dishes!
Aglianico and falanghina were the highlights of a cold, difficult trip to Southern Italy in December of 2013. Our best memory was sitting in the Arx Cafe near Castel Sant'elmo when, after hiking uphill for an hour, it was closed for the second time due to wind. Looking at Naples and Vesuvius and drinking Aglianico, forgetting about the trip back down.
Gioviano Irpinia Aglianico 2010 had the most depth of all the aglianicos I tasted this month. It is almost similar to the Mastroberardino, but a character with dark fruit, pleasant tannin, and a spice between pine, rosemary, and eucalyptus. Neapolitan ragu probably would have been the better pairing for these but I gave up on that project because it was too ambitious.
Aglianico del Taburno 2009 tasted of sun-drenched, ripe, dried, concentrated, fruit, tannic a little thin, but honest. The wine reminded me of the house wine I had years ago in Sorrento at a cliffside restaurant with a view over naples bay towards Vesuvius eating a humble dish of ravioli caprese. The food now being spaghetti bolognese (it took about 3 hours to prepare the ragu sauce) flavors of beef, tomato, and parmesan melted together perfectly with the wine to a distinct fruitiness and a floral finish of roses. I had a similar experience with the Mastroberardino Aglianico Campania 2009 just the start of the journey towards the rose finish was a darker fruit, like a dusty-earthy prune. Now these floral rose qualities reminded me of Nebbiolo. I got a 2013 Produttori Langhe Nebbiolo to compare and the wines turned out to be very different. Produttoris fruit was more red, the tannins thicker there was a presence of licorice-anise like spice. Produttori would obviously shine more with a mushroom based pasta dish. It's like comparing The Little World of Don Camillo with Goodfellas, both good movies but in different ways.
Our third and final wine this month, enjoyed this past Sunday with the NYT's Cauliflower Parmesan, was the Cantine Antonio Caggiano Irpinia Aglianico Tari 2012. And boy, was this worth building up to.
The Caggiano Tari was garnet shaded, a bit limpid. But where it really shined was in its aromas, which took on a decidedly liqueur-like quality, layering notes of amerena cherries, currants, cedar wood, and dusty mineral. On the palate though, it was still youthful and largely closed, even with a long decant. Full bodied, powerfully tannic, and more serious than either of the prior two wines we selected. Brisk, tingling acidity, with flavors of tart cherry and bitter herbs, and a peculiar ash-like quality---perhaps this is the mark of the area's famed volcanic soils? The wine also possessed a monumentally long finish that just seemed to continue renting space on your tongue long after it was gone.
Unlike the previous two wines, we thought the Caggiano Tari had more road to travel in its future than it does in its rear-view mirror. The tannins were angular and sharp edged, and a few more years of bottle age would probably help to integrate the wine further. It would be fun to pick a few bottles up and open one every 2-3 years.
And it paired great with the caulifower parm. If anything, the parm struggled a bit to keep up, but its rich, buttery, and comforting flavors helped to break up the experience of a great wine that is still just a bit too strong for general sipping.
The Caggiano Tari was garnet shaded, a bit limpid. But where it really shined was in its aromas, which took on a decidedly liqueur-like quality, layering notes of amerena cherries, currants, cedar wood, and dusty mineral. On the palate though, it was still youthful and largely closed, even with a long decant. Full bodied, powerfully tannic, and more serious than either of the prior two wines we selected. Brisk, tingling acidity, with flavors of tart cherry and bitter herbs, and a peculiar ash-like quality---perhaps this is the mark of the area's famed volcanic soils? The wine also possessed a monumentally long finish that just seemed to continue renting space on your tongue long after it was gone.
Unlike the previous two wines, we thought the Caggiano Tari had more road to travel in its future than it does in its rear-view mirror. The tannins were angular and sharp edged, and a few more years of bottle age would probably help to integrate the wine further. It would be fun to pick a few bottles up and open one every 2-3 years.
And it paired great with the caulifower parm. If anything, the parm struggled a bit to keep up, but its rich, buttery, and comforting flavors helped to break up the experience of a great wine that is still just a bit too strong for general sipping.
Overall, we had another fun month with wine school. (They're all pretty fun.) Though to answer the question that was posed in the prompts---
Stylistically, we thought these wines were all fairly unified, especially comparing the Feudi to the Caggiano,. Though the Caggiano simply had more everything, from extraction, to structure, to long-term potential. That said, there was enough variation between them, in terms of weight, acidity, and tannins, that they reminded us of differing Italian wine regions; the Feudi was indeed similar to some of the Langhe Nebbiolos we've had. I dug up old tasting notes from a few vintages of G.D. Vajra, which stuck out particularly in my mind, and a version from Produttori del Barbaresco. Both of these were from our previous wine school exploits, and the similarities in the way we described (and remembered) them were striking.
But the Caggiano, with its angular tannins, ample cherry flavor, and noticeable dustiness, reminded me much more of a good, traditionally styled Chianti Classico. Only the ashy, volcanic imprint mentioned in my prior note seemed to separate it from those wines.
Though what we'd love to do is drive down more on how Aglianico from Campania is distinct. Some trusted merchants in our area sell multiple versions of the higher-end Taurasi wines, and even have some well-kept reserve vintages dating back to the early '00s on sale. We may need to do some extra "studying."
Stylistically, we thought these wines were all fairly unified, especially comparing the Feudi to the Caggiano,. Though the Caggiano simply had more everything, from extraction, to structure, to long-term potential. That said, there was enough variation between them, in terms of weight, acidity, and tannins, that they reminded us of differing Italian wine regions; the Feudi was indeed similar to some of the Langhe Nebbiolos we've had. I dug up old tasting notes from a few vintages of G.D. Vajra, which stuck out particularly in my mind, and a version from Produttori del Barbaresco. Both of these were from our previous wine school exploits, and the similarities in the way we described (and remembered) them were striking.
But the Caggiano, with its angular tannins, ample cherry flavor, and noticeable dustiness, reminded me much more of a good, traditionally styled Chianti Classico. Only the ashy, volcanic imprint mentioned in my prior note seemed to separate it from those wines.
Though what we'd love to do is drive down more on how Aglianico from Campania is distinct. Some trusted merchants in our area sell multiple versions of the higher-end Taurasi wines, and even have some well-kept reserve vintages dating back to the early '00s on sale. We may need to do some extra "studying."
We followed up with a bottle of Terredora di Paolo Aglianico 2012. We paired it a bit unconventionally, with a BBQ chicken pizza from a great little shop in our neighborhood.
This wine was a bit of a misfire for us. We suspect it may have taken some heat damage in transit to the States, though we'd hardly say it was ruined or totally undrinkable. It was a dull shade of mulberry in the glass, with a nose of tart cherry, raisins, and earthy, cedary notes. The flavors, however, tasted a bit desiccated for such a young wine---not even closed, just kind of tired. There were some cherry and currant notes, and consistent with the last wine, a noticeable tannic structure, though overall we found this much more immediately accessible at least from a textural standpoint. It also dropped out pretty abruptly on the mid-palate, leaving behind zero finish. Drinkable, but not memorable.
We may have also made a mistake with the pairing---the BBQ sauce was pretty sweet (a stealth sugar delivery device if there ever was one), and it made an already narrow-band wine seem to shrink even more. Still, even drinking it before and long after the meal, we didn't think this wine was offering a lot to us.
This wine was a bit of a misfire for us. We suspect it may have taken some heat damage in transit to the States, though we'd hardly say it was ruined or totally undrinkable. It was a dull shade of mulberry in the glass, with a nose of tart cherry, raisins, and earthy, cedary notes. The flavors, however, tasted a bit desiccated for such a young wine---not even closed, just kind of tired. There were some cherry and currant notes, and consistent with the last wine, a noticeable tannic structure, though overall we found this much more immediately accessible at least from a textural standpoint. It also dropped out pretty abruptly on the mid-palate, leaving behind zero finish. Drinkable, but not memorable.
We may have also made a mistake with the pairing---the BBQ sauce was pretty sweet (a stealth sugar delivery device if there ever was one), and it made an already narrow-band wine seem to shrink even more. Still, even drinking it before and long after the meal, we didn't think this wine was offering a lot to us.
First off, a Happy TG to all! With the turkey in the oven, now seems a good time for wine school write-ups. We purchased three bottles of Aglianico this month, though all of them came from the alternative list of producers. C'est la vie.
We kicked off with a Feudi di San Gregorio Aglianico Rubrato 2011, pairing it with the Times' recipe for Pizza with Peppers---a straightforward name that doesn't do the dish justice.
This was a wine that had a hard countenance, through and through. It was a nice shade of polished garnet in appearance, though the nose had a slightly acrid quality, with aromas of currants, cedar wood, peat, and hints of pencil lead. The palate was pretty unforgiving, even after an hour or two open. Really firm tannic structure and powerful acidity, with flavors of sour cherry, bitter herbs, and chalk mineral. It also left behind a long, tart, puckeringly dry finish. We thought there was a lot of persistence, but regrettably not much depth of flavor.
Still, we enjoyed it as a partner for our pizza, which was in comparison extremely, really, too, inviting. The sweetness of the deeply roasted peppers and the richness of the gooey mozzarella provided fantastic contrast for the palate cleansing tartness/acid of the wine...which in turn seemed to show better with the food. I know that nearly all wine is incomplete without food, but here, the context seemed to matter particularly so. It knocked some of the edge off an otherwise difficult wine to appreciate.
We kicked off with a Feudi di San Gregorio Aglianico Rubrato 2011, pairing it with the Times' recipe for Pizza with Peppers---a straightforward name that doesn't do the dish justice.
This was a wine that had a hard countenance, through and through. It was a nice shade of polished garnet in appearance, though the nose had a slightly acrid quality, with aromas of currants, cedar wood, peat, and hints of pencil lead. The palate was pretty unforgiving, even after an hour or two open. Really firm tannic structure and powerful acidity, with flavors of sour cherry, bitter herbs, and chalk mineral. It also left behind a long, tart, puckeringly dry finish. We thought there was a lot of persistence, but regrettably not much depth of flavor.
Still, we enjoyed it as a partner for our pizza, which was in comparison extremely, really, too, inviting. The sweetness of the deeply roasted peppers and the richness of the gooey mozzarella provided fantastic contrast for the palate cleansing tartness/acid of the wine...which in turn seemed to show better with the food. I know that nearly all wine is incomplete without food, but here, the context seemed to matter particularly so. It knocked some of the edge off an otherwise difficult wine to appreciate.
I had an unopened bottle of Cinque Querce 2010 from our delightful dinner at the Leopard with Dan and Barb, and so I decided to have it at home this time at a pre-Thanksgiving weekend dinner with Nana. Made baked eggplant in a rich tomato sauce with thin crisp salami, and grilled shrimp. The wine on the first whiff smelled slightly yeasty, earthy, lightly of raspberry and other red fruit or berries, in conjunction with some herbal notes. The first sip could be felt in mid-palate and its sensation seemed "dusty," but it wasn't tannic. As dinner progressed the wine's fragrances seemed to move between those of raspberries and the woods; smoke and dry wood; cedar and burned wood chips. With food the tastes were alternating between a grounding earthy and invigoratingly peppery; savory and mellow but not quite fruity; and tobacco and dried fruit. I found this wine an interplay of those underlying flavors, soft and hard throughout the meal.
Drinking the 2009 Taurasi by Terredora di Paolo with lamb stew from Julia Child's Mastering 50th Anniversary edition. Two bottles were opened but drunk concurrently to test decanting effects. As a sipping wine, this wine was problematic for me: lots of tannin, almost a grittiness on the palate, although a wonderful deep and rich aroma with generous fruit and a minutes long finish made it notable.
The decanted wine was a better choice with the lamb than the bottle just opened because the decanted wine was much smoother, the fruits and tannin being tamer and very well integrated.
The Taurasi version of aglianico is a burly wine, yes, but it has polish as a food wine. The image of Gene Barry playing Bat Masterson came to mind several times drinking this wine with the lamb: elegant, dapper, quietly confident but strong and fearsome.
This was an enjoyable survey. It's my first Taurasi, but not my first aglianico, which I did not enjoy the first time. I understand now how the better examples can approach the excellence of its Piedmont and Tuscan cousins when drunk in the right setting with the right food. Thanks, Eric.
The decanted wine was a better choice with the lamb than the bottle just opened because the decanted wine was much smoother, the fruits and tannin being tamer and very well integrated.
The Taurasi version of aglianico is a burly wine, yes, but it has polish as a food wine. The image of Gene Barry playing Bat Masterson came to mind several times drinking this wine with the lamb: elegant, dapper, quietly confident but strong and fearsome.
This was an enjoyable survey. It's my first Taurasi, but not my first aglianico, which I did not enjoy the first time. I understand now how the better examples can approach the excellence of its Piedmont and Tuscan cousins when drunk in the right setting with the right food. Thanks, Eric.
Dinner was with a couple of old friends, namely pizza and the Ocone Apollo Aglianico. Alas, it seems Wine School has come between us. The Apollo, which is not an Irpinia, but from Taburno, close to Mt. Vesuvius, has been a longtime favorite, especially with cured meats. Usually that’s a sausage pizza; less often, sausage and broccoli rabe, or pasta all’Amatriciana or just guanciale on toast. Other top pairings have included Gorgonzola dolce (especially with oil on bread) and, less predictably, beef and chicken enchiladas, and pecans. 9s all, in my book.
Last night, an 8 was all I’d give it. Had it with two standbys, the sausage pizza (plain is too light) and Gorgonzola dolce, and it was still satisfying and good. And it was a newer vintage, 2009, than I’d tried before, so maybe that played a role, but overall, the wine seemed muddied, round and soft (though still big) compared to the precision of some of this month’s Irpinias. Barb found it “less robust.” I enjoyed it, but was hardly transported by it. Its texture lacked both the smoothness and the prickliness I got with the other wines this month.
Going forward? I want to revisit two other old favorites, the Terredora and the Bisceglia that Rick JP enjoyed. Both are lighter weight Aglianicos. I particularly liked the Bisceglia’s smokiness and still wonder if that quality is less present in the Irpinias than the Taurasis and Vultures. New favorites, though, after this lesson, are the Il Cancelliere and the Notaio l’Atto.
Last night, an 8 was all I’d give it. Had it with two standbys, the sausage pizza (plain is too light) and Gorgonzola dolce, and it was still satisfying and good. And it was a newer vintage, 2009, than I’d tried before, so maybe that played a role, but overall, the wine seemed muddied, round and soft (though still big) compared to the precision of some of this month’s Irpinias. Barb found it “less robust.” I enjoyed it, but was hardly transported by it. Its texture lacked both the smoothness and the prickliness I got with the other wines this month.
Going forward? I want to revisit two other old favorites, the Terredora and the Bisceglia that Rick JP enjoyed. Both are lighter weight Aglianicos. I particularly liked the Bisceglia’s smokiness and still wonder if that quality is less present in the Irpinias than the Taurasis and Vultures. New favorites, though, after this lesson, are the Il Cancelliere and the Notaio l’Atto.
Before the tasting we decided to us a Vinturi (aerator) for all three wines. During the tasting we noticed that this really helped, especially in the case of wine number two.
We found the Molettieri medium bodied with a nose of fruit, leather and spice. We noticed this varietal somewhat unique with a medium follow through. We served it with a shrimp and grits course and found the earth and spice remained but the fruit dissipated. It also seemed less alcoholic.
The Benito Ferrara had a bouquet of elegant finesse. On tasting we found layers of fruit and herbs that held long on the palate. We noticed a slight cola sweetness on the mid-palate. A flank steak was served and unfortunately the layers disappeared. It appears this is a wine that needs to be happily consumed alone. It was our favorite standing by itself.
Lastly, the Cancelliere Gioviano seemed different that the first two. It had a dark dried fruit taste of almost prune but was not off-putting. It was served later with a braised short rib and we found it a perfect match. We found new flavors in the wine that almost tasting balsamic. It was our favorite wine with food. George Erdle, Harper’s Fine Dining Group - Charlotte, NC
We found the Molettieri medium bodied with a nose of fruit, leather and spice. We noticed this varietal somewhat unique with a medium follow through. We served it with a shrimp and grits course and found the earth and spice remained but the fruit dissipated. It also seemed less alcoholic.
The Benito Ferrara had a bouquet of elegant finesse. On tasting we found layers of fruit and herbs that held long on the palate. We noticed a slight cola sweetness on the mid-palate. A flank steak was served and unfortunately the layers disappeared. It appears this is a wine that needs to be happily consumed alone. It was our favorite standing by itself.
Lastly, the Cancelliere Gioviano seemed different that the first two. It had a dark dried fruit taste of almost prune but was not off-putting. It was served later with a braised short rib and we found it a perfect match. We found new flavors in the wine that almost tasting balsamic. It was our favorite wine with food. George Erdle, Harper’s Fine Dining Group - Charlotte, NC
Apologies, all, for too many Aglianico posts. Earthy, Italian, affordable. Sure am liking this month’s lesson!
Tried a 2013 Cantine del Notaio L'Atto, which comes from Mt. Vulture, not Irpinia. As Angelo noted, its balance is different. The wine felt compact and sturdy. It didn’t have the languid depth of some of the Irpinias, or the mix of extreme bitter and sweet flavors, or the strange interplay of silky and prickly mouthfeel. But it did have great (mineral?) backbone, solid tannins, and complexity (herby nose, berry flavors). I kept picturing it as Napoleon—thanks in part, no doubt, to the label’s 19th C. portrait of a statesmanlike and quite self-possessed notary (notaio). I liked it.
And it liked something to chew into. Best pairing by far was a rich, tomato-y, takeout eggplant parm sandwich. A fusilli Bolognese was too light and delicate to deserve the name—no meat morsels at all, just a meaty whiff in a light tomato sauce—and too light for the sturdy wine.
Also paired it with a few after dinner cheeses and similarly, a Piave was too light; the wine dominated. Not bad, exactly, but there was no interplay. A chunk of tangy Parmigiano Reggiano did much better.
And once again, with dried figs after dinner… delicious.
Tried a 2013 Cantine del Notaio L'Atto, which comes from Mt. Vulture, not Irpinia. As Angelo noted, its balance is different. The wine felt compact and sturdy. It didn’t have the languid depth of some of the Irpinias, or the mix of extreme bitter and sweet flavors, or the strange interplay of silky and prickly mouthfeel. But it did have great (mineral?) backbone, solid tannins, and complexity (herby nose, berry flavors). I kept picturing it as Napoleon—thanks in part, no doubt, to the label’s 19th C. portrait of a statesmanlike and quite self-possessed notary (notaio). I liked it.
And it liked something to chew into. Best pairing by far was a rich, tomato-y, takeout eggplant parm sandwich. A fusilli Bolognese was too light and delicate to deserve the name—no meat morsels at all, just a meaty whiff in a light tomato sauce—and too light for the sturdy wine.
Also paired it with a few after dinner cheeses and similarly, a Piave was too light; the wine dominated. Not bad, exactly, but there was no interplay. A chunk of tangy Parmigiano Reggiano did much better.
And once again, with dried figs after dinner… delicious.
What a surprise we had with this wine. We were expecting something either big and fruity or something leathery and puckery. Neither bottle gave us that. Instead we had a wonderful full-bodied red with a relatively smooth finish. We had our usual difficult time finding (or, in this kind, not finding) any of the suggested wines but did get a bottle of Bisceglia Terra di Vulcano Aglianico del Vulture for CA$20 and a bottle of La Masciare 2010 Aglianico for CA$34. The Masciare was a bit smoother than the Bisceglia but both were delicious. The Aglianico seems to cry out for food to go with it but was even-tempered about the food it accompanied. We started with some strong cheese and it worked well. We had a bagna cauda salad of raw root vegetables and the wine really went well with the salty anchovies of the sauce. For mains we had roast chicken in a mushroom tomato sauce. The wine was not overly assertive with the chicken nor too fruity to compete with the tomatoes.
We had never tried this wine before to our regret. We will definitely be having it again now that we know about it.
We had never tried this wine before to our regret. We will definitely be having it again now that we know about it.
I was able to find two of the three this time. The Salvatore Molettiere at 67 Wine and The Gioviano (an ’09) at Vintry. When I picked up the Gioviano I was asked if I knew Ali who had been there before me. Part of the fun of wine school for has been learning about different wine stores when I go into NYC.
The best part of this month’s lesson was the Osso Buco. I had never made it before but took the suggestion and was glad I did. The question about aromas other than fruit made my husband ask, “Is this a trick question?”. Fruit was the dominating aroma. I thought of mushrooms, perhaps because of the earthiness. The Gioviano perhaps had a touch of allspice but not a lot. The texture - we thought these were somewhere in the middle. We have had rougher, sharper wines and smoother wines. They became smoother over time. We decanted for an hour and sipped through dinner. When asked to compare with Langhe nebbiolo we both thought we preferred Langhe nebbiolo which we remember as presenting more complexity and depth. The Langhe nebbiolo lesson was the one where my husband felt the wine really improved the food.
The best part of this month’s lesson was the Osso Buco. I had never made it before but took the suggestion and was glad I did. The question about aromas other than fruit made my husband ask, “Is this a trick question?”. Fruit was the dominating aroma. I thought of mushrooms, perhaps because of the earthiness. The Gioviano perhaps had a touch of allspice but not a lot. The texture - we thought these were somewhere in the middle. We have had rougher, sharper wines and smoother wines. They became smoother over time. We decanted for an hour and sipped through dinner. When asked to compare with Langhe nebbiolo we both thought we preferred Langhe nebbiolo which we remember as presenting more complexity and depth. The Langhe nebbiolo lesson was the one where my husband felt the wine really improved the food.
I agree with that, that part of the fun is in visiting the different wine stores, browsing through the wines, talking to the proprietors. Ferguson: I must admit that our paths have crossed before through the wine hunt. I don't remember what month it was, perhaps a segment on Sonoma Chardonnay, and I had gone to Astor Wines to pick up my pre-ordered bottle. By mistake I was given one with your name on it, which I only realized after I had left the store, so I brought it back and exchanged them.
Two callouts and thanks to Anthony Esposito. The first is a repeat. The figs he suggested have been a sweet and tasty pairing with many of this month’s Aglianicos, so different in character from the other best pairings, which have all been tangy and rich, whether from meat, tomato or cheese. The sweet, fruity (dried) figs have worked in a completely opposite, fresh way, and so well.
He also suggested “making sure you conjoin the food and wine in your mouth.” Seemed like an odd thing to bring up, but I made a point of it recently with an eggplant parm sandwich, and wow! Something rude and rustic, chewy and earthy about a big bite of food and a big slurp of wine swooshing around together. Took the whole thing up a notch. Bam.
He also suggested “making sure you conjoin the food and wine in your mouth.” Seemed like an odd thing to bring up, but I made a point of it recently with an eggplant parm sandwich, and wow! Something rude and rustic, chewy and earthy about a big bite of food and a big slurp of wine swooshing around together. Took the whole thing up a notch. Bam.
Quattro Confini, 2013.
The wine was decanted for 4 hours, rebottled then refrigerated for 2 nights. Vastly changed from the same wine Ali poured at the NY Wine School Intro Dinner? Nope. Exactly the same. It’s the lightest-bodied of any Aglianico I’ve tried, its most striking attribute being its 180˚ opposite, super bitter (at start) and super sweet (as it breathes) tastes. The sweet, with blackberry and raspberry, reminds me of Primitivo, but Primitivo lacks this wine’s bitter. Does the 2-y-o Quattro need a few more years to “integrate”?
Dinner was pasta with sweet sausage and cherry tomatoes tinyurl.com/oxrewow , chosen for its creamy provolone coating—a chunk of provolone having paired so well at The Leopard with the other two Aglianicos. This night’s coating was neither prominent nor particularly delicious and the pairing was satisfactory but that’s it. Better was a side of sautéed dandelion greens with onions tinyurl.com/p2ssdyo , where the food’s and the wine’s brightness and bitterness lined up. In the pairing, the wine seemed fruity and peppery.
And then, there it was again, that prickly sensation that has dogged me through this month’s otherwise silky smooth-textured Aglianicos. It was gentler in this lighter-bodied example, but unmistakable. It came about 30 minutes into the meal, following a couple of sips of wine that were uninterrupted by food. It arrived and left, and left me once again perplexed.
The wine was decanted for 4 hours, rebottled then refrigerated for 2 nights. Vastly changed from the same wine Ali poured at the NY Wine School Intro Dinner? Nope. Exactly the same. It’s the lightest-bodied of any Aglianico I’ve tried, its most striking attribute being its 180˚ opposite, super bitter (at start) and super sweet (as it breathes) tastes. The sweet, with blackberry and raspberry, reminds me of Primitivo, but Primitivo lacks this wine’s bitter. Does the 2-y-o Quattro need a few more years to “integrate”?
Dinner was pasta with sweet sausage and cherry tomatoes tinyurl.com/oxrewow , chosen for its creamy provolone coating—a chunk of provolone having paired so well at The Leopard with the other two Aglianicos. This night’s coating was neither prominent nor particularly delicious and the pairing was satisfactory but that’s it. Better was a side of sautéed dandelion greens with onions tinyurl.com/p2ssdyo , where the food’s and the wine’s brightness and bitterness lined up. In the pairing, the wine seemed fruity and peppery.
And then, there it was again, that prickly sensation that has dogged me through this month’s otherwise silky smooth-textured Aglianicos. It was gentler in this lighter-bodied example, but unmistakable. It came about 30 minutes into the meal, following a couple of sips of wine that were uninterrupted by food. It arrived and left, and left me once again perplexed.
We tried the following:
Rivera Cappellacio Riserva Aglianico 2008. On the nose we noted wood, cedar and evergreen shavings. Somebody said citrus(oranges) jam and dark red fruit. There was an aftertaste of caramel. At first sip it was soft and light not heavy but then on swallowing it was astringent. After 30 minutes’ aromas of cinnamon, peppermint and plum jam appeared.
Next up was Vinosia Taurasi Santandrea 2009. Comments regarding the nose were, menthol(?), soap, coconut and vanilla, also wood and cedar. Over time the coconut nose disappeared and was replaced by a sweeter, fruitier aroma. In the mouth it was peppery, reminiscent of a Rhone wine, but also very smooth and penetrating. Somebody tasted chocolate.
La Fortezza Aglianico del Taburno 2007. As usual we are into bridge at this stage, the 3rd bottle, and the comments are, shall we say briefer. I heard almonds, candy, treacle, brown sugar and licorice. Some of these comments harken back to the Langhe nebbiolos, for the first time in the evening.
I thought the Taurasi was the most distinctive of the 3 wines. The first and third were similar. The meal was braised lamb shanks (southwestern style with peppers and chilies), with mashed potatoes and Brussel sprouts – mmm good. The pepperiness of the Taurasi combined fantastically with the lamb. Another excellent and fun evening.
Rivera Cappellacio Riserva Aglianico 2008. On the nose we noted wood, cedar and evergreen shavings. Somebody said citrus(oranges) jam and dark red fruit. There was an aftertaste of caramel. At first sip it was soft and light not heavy but then on swallowing it was astringent. After 30 minutes’ aromas of cinnamon, peppermint and plum jam appeared.
Next up was Vinosia Taurasi Santandrea 2009. Comments regarding the nose were, menthol(?), soap, coconut and vanilla, also wood and cedar. Over time the coconut nose disappeared and was replaced by a sweeter, fruitier aroma. In the mouth it was peppery, reminiscent of a Rhone wine, but also very smooth and penetrating. Somebody tasted chocolate.
La Fortezza Aglianico del Taburno 2007. As usual we are into bridge at this stage, the 3rd bottle, and the comments are, shall we say briefer. I heard almonds, candy, treacle, brown sugar and licorice. Some of these comments harken back to the Langhe nebbiolos, for the first time in the evening.
I thought the Taurasi was the most distinctive of the 3 wines. The first and third were similar. The meal was braised lamb shanks (southwestern style with peppers and chilies), with mashed potatoes and Brussel sprouts – mmm good. The pepperiness of the Taurasi combined fantastically with the lamb. Another excellent and fun evening.
1
2 posts in 1.
Dan: Nice balance at the NY Wine School Intro Dinner, as Ali and I gushed over wine minutia, and our put-upon partners, bless ‘em, Barb and Rick, mocked and commiserated and eye-rolled—and even enjoyed themselves and the wine. We ran the table on this month’s lesson, and the wines’ order of pouring, of richness and of preference came in all the same: Quattro, Cinque, Gioviano (“G”), the last deep, dark and satisfying in a way the first two could not match. (This night’s 2010, though, was rounder, sweeter, more elegant, less rustic than the thrilling ’09 of two nights before.) Of the meal’s many pairings, two cheeses—sharp provolone for me, Taleggio for Ali—ranked tops, turning their wines creamy, silky. And again there was that passing mid-meal moment, sensed now with the Rubrato and two vintages of G, as the wine goes prickly, then re-mellows. Due to foods’ spice?
Ali: Three of us liked G the most. Its dark, full-bodied, at first tannic character was robust w/o heaviness; satisfying, both alone and with food; versatile, not overly fruity or savory; balanced and fresh, tasting of dark ripe blackberry, leather?, white pepper, and spiced plum. G paired well with breaded baked swordfish in salmoriglio sauce and caponata ghiotta. All 3 wines shared a textural quality and evoked dust and chalkiness in the mouth. G added richness and warmth to the palate, perfectly matching a fall night’s mood. I imagine it will be a perfect companion to our family’s Txg dinner.
Dan: Nice balance at the NY Wine School Intro Dinner, as Ali and I gushed over wine minutia, and our put-upon partners, bless ‘em, Barb and Rick, mocked and commiserated and eye-rolled—and even enjoyed themselves and the wine. We ran the table on this month’s lesson, and the wines’ order of pouring, of richness and of preference came in all the same: Quattro, Cinque, Gioviano (“G”), the last deep, dark and satisfying in a way the first two could not match. (This night’s 2010, though, was rounder, sweeter, more elegant, less rustic than the thrilling ’09 of two nights before.) Of the meal’s many pairings, two cheeses—sharp provolone for me, Taleggio for Ali—ranked tops, turning their wines creamy, silky. And again there was that passing mid-meal moment, sensed now with the Rubrato and two vintages of G, as the wine goes prickly, then re-mellows. Due to foods’ spice?
Ali: Three of us liked G the most. Its dark, full-bodied, at first tannic character was robust w/o heaviness; satisfying, both alone and with food; versatile, not overly fruity or savory; balanced and fresh, tasting of dark ripe blackberry, leather?, white pepper, and spiced plum. G paired well with breaded baked swordfish in salmoriglio sauce and caponata ghiotta. All 3 wines shared a textural quality and evoked dust and chalkiness in the mouth. G added richness and warmth to the palate, perfectly matching a fall night’s mood. I imagine it will be a perfect companion to our family’s Txg dinner.
Finally, a Wine School lesson I’ve at least taken the intro course for! With just enough knowledge to be very, very wrong, here are my three going-in preconceptions:
Aglianico loves nothing better than tomato and salty: put it with cured meat or sausage, or anchovy (not fish though!), or even Mexican with tomato and beef—and pizza of course—and you’re golden.
While this lesson’s Irpinias are in general a bit fruitier than those from further west, closer to Vesuvius, most Aglianicos are in general a bit smokier than Italy’s other iconic volcanic red, Nerello Mascaleses, from Sicily’s Etna. Both are minerally; the Nerello Mascaleses lean more towards ashy.
And Apollo Ocone, an earthy, fuller-bodied, complex, sour cherry Aglianico del Taburno, didn’t make it to Eric’s recommended list (he once called it “round, pleasing, balanced and approachable”) but it’s tops on mine; I’ve opened half a dozen, never been disappointed.
I look forward to seeing which, if any, of these half-baked impressions are confirmed this month, and which are shot down.
Aglianico loves nothing better than tomato and salty: put it with cured meat or sausage, or anchovy (not fish though!), or even Mexican with tomato and beef—and pizza of course—and you’re golden.
While this lesson’s Irpinias are in general a bit fruitier than those from further west, closer to Vesuvius, most Aglianicos are in general a bit smokier than Italy’s other iconic volcanic red, Nerello Mascaleses, from Sicily’s Etna. Both are minerally; the Nerello Mascaleses lean more towards ashy.
And Apollo Ocone, an earthy, fuller-bodied, complex, sour cherry Aglianico del Taburno, didn’t make it to Eric’s recommended list (he once called it “round, pleasing, balanced and approachable”) but it’s tops on mine; I’ve opened half a dozen, never been disappointed.
I look forward to seeing which, if any, of these half-baked impressions are confirmed this month, and which are shot down.
LV THS WN! Had the ’09 Il Cancelliere Gioviano with Batali’s super rich pasta all’Amatriciana tinyurl.com/kyxhbde , garlicky mushrooms and, after dinner—thanks, Anthony E.—figs. Perfect, perfect, perfect. But first you have to get past the nose.
On pour, it was seriously off-putting, with rubber and thick barnyard, in that word’s most euphemistic sense. After a 3.5 hour decant, the funk was still there, but way softer-smelling, and soon joined by sweet bacon.
At first on the palate was a mouth-drying bitterness, a bit like Lambrusco but, to my taste, less strident and more pleasing (less tannic?). And the wine slowly and steadily sweetened, with flavors of dark earth and blackberry, through the meal. I felt transported to a small farm deep in a rich, fertile and, for Campania, weirdly cool-climate forest.
A farm with pigs. The wine’s barnyard was just right for the pork jowl guanciale. And its big, dark depth handled the richness and spice effortlessly. Added Locatelli detracted, too bright. Added parsley was fresh and contrasty nice. As with the Rubrato, I did not taste the smoke that I associate with Aglianico, but I did get, midway through the meal, a distinct, passing tingle in the cheeks and mouth, cleansing in a peppery way. It wasn’t there, then it was, then it wasn’t. Strange.
Dark, oily, earthy mushrooms fit the wine like a glove.
Dark, sweet figs were yet another exception to the often-wrong rule that wines should be sweeter than their food.
Lovely, lovely wine.
On pour, it was seriously off-putting, with rubber and thick barnyard, in that word’s most euphemistic sense. After a 3.5 hour decant, the funk was still there, but way softer-smelling, and soon joined by sweet bacon.
At first on the palate was a mouth-drying bitterness, a bit like Lambrusco but, to my taste, less strident and more pleasing (less tannic?). And the wine slowly and steadily sweetened, with flavors of dark earth and blackberry, through the meal. I felt transported to a small farm deep in a rich, fertile and, for Campania, weirdly cool-climate forest.
A farm with pigs. The wine’s barnyard was just right for the pork jowl guanciale. And its big, dark depth handled the richness and spice effortlessly. Added Locatelli detracted, too bright. Added parsley was fresh and contrasty nice. As with the Rubrato, I did not taste the smoke that I associate with Aglianico, but I did get, midway through the meal, a distinct, passing tingle in the cheeks and mouth, cleansing in a peppery way. It wasn’t there, then it was, then it wasn’t. Strange.
Dark, oily, earthy mushrooms fit the wine like a glove.
Dark, sweet figs were yet another exception to the often-wrong rule that wines should be sweeter than their food.
Lovely, lovely wine.
Paired a Feudi di San Gregorio Rubrato, Irpinia, 2012, with home pizza.
The food: Subtle it was not. Thick with way too much Gorgonzola, probably too much sausage, over mushrooms, tomato, basil, mozzarella. D’ya like the flavorful food? We do, and so did the Rubrato.
The wine: a little tarriness on the pour, but mostly sour cherry with a little—got it after I read it on the bottle—raspberry. Sourer on the attack; sweeter on the long finish. The dark flavors contrasted nicely with the wine’s best quality, its bright (and un-Nebbiolo-like) cleansing acidity. The mouthfeel is hard to describe: it began with that bright clean sensation, but after an hour+ decant, a dustiness crept in, and the two went back and forth. In between was the wine’s most distinctive feature, an unmistakable tingle that, truth be told, I can’t decide how much I liked. Call it just on the good side of could-be-bad. Maybe it was only a very mild spice-v-alcohol clash? The sausage was 3 parts sweet, 1 hot.
The pairing: the wine stood up to, and its brightness and tingle beautifully cleansed and set up, the next bite of over-rich, over-strong Gorgonzola. I would not have enjoyed the one without the other. Together, delicious. (The undecanted was fruity and nice on its own, but did not pair well. The decanted, sipped after dinner, was a bit harsh.)
Overall: within a category I love for its earthy richness, the Rubrato felt refined and fruity. I’d gladly have another. I’d be gladder to have an other.
The food: Subtle it was not. Thick with way too much Gorgonzola, probably too much sausage, over mushrooms, tomato, basil, mozzarella. D’ya like the flavorful food? We do, and so did the Rubrato.
The wine: a little tarriness on the pour, but mostly sour cherry with a little—got it after I read it on the bottle—raspberry. Sourer on the attack; sweeter on the long finish. The dark flavors contrasted nicely with the wine’s best quality, its bright (and un-Nebbiolo-like) cleansing acidity. The mouthfeel is hard to describe: it began with that bright clean sensation, but after an hour+ decant, a dustiness crept in, and the two went back and forth. In between was the wine’s most distinctive feature, an unmistakable tingle that, truth be told, I can’t decide how much I liked. Call it just on the good side of could-be-bad. Maybe it was only a very mild spice-v-alcohol clash? The sausage was 3 parts sweet, 1 hot.
The pairing: the wine stood up to, and its brightness and tingle beautifully cleansed and set up, the next bite of over-rich, over-strong Gorgonzola. I would not have enjoyed the one without the other. Together, delicious. (The undecanted was fruity and nice on its own, but did not pair well. The decanted, sipped after dinner, was a bit harsh.)
Overall: within a category I love for its earthy richness, the Rubrato felt refined and fruity. I’d gladly have another. I’d be gladder to have an other.
Least known great grape? What about Ruche!
Aglianico is often rough going. Hard to find, even harder to find truly pleasing ones. Drinking it in Matera helps a lot. It suits the stone-age ambiance. Wherever you drink it, air it out and eat well with it, preferably, cheese, bread, salumi, figs, chestnuts...making sure you conjoin the food and wine in your mouth. Soak slices of peach in it for a day or two. You'll be glad you did.
2
The 2009 Terredora Taurasi is available in the NY area for $25ish. While I know Eric is concerned about the readiness to drink of the DOC, this wine apparently (CT notes) is just entering a good drinking window.
Aglianico has been my go-to affordable Italian grape for a few decades. We have done Aglianico tastings here in KC a few times, and most people new to the grape have become converts. One suggestion - try producers from Basilicata if you can find any examples in your market. They are different, and I prefer their balance. Mount Vulture produces wonderful examples.
1
Apparently the only wine store in New York City, which carries Il Cancelliere Gioviano is Vintry Fine Wines in Battery Park City. The proprietor called me to let me know that they had gotten the 2009 vintage, the only vintage available. According to the Wine Searcher at least, it is the only store on the US continent that has it; the other one is Fujioka's Wine Times in Honolulu, Hawaii.
1
I found it at Frankly Wines in TriBeCa.
1
I've checked and they have 34 bottles in stock. That teaches me not to solely rely on the Wine Searcher's results in case of a hard-to-locate wine but to also inquire directly with wine stores.
Thank you, Professor!
Thank you, Professor!
Wine-Searcher is a fantastic tool, but has its limitations. If I'm not mistaken, for the most part they only cover retailers with digital inventory, and if using the free version, then only a subset of those. All the same, it's still been enough to help me find most of the recommended wines in the DC market---really it's only the months when the lesson is on something totally small production (St. Joseph) or completely under-appreciated (Cru Beaujolais, Cava, Aglianico) when it has failed to turn up anything locally. Calling individual stores would likely yield better results, but that takes some time...
Good Evening: Can we all agree right here and now that we will keep Aglianicos our little secret before the word gets out and the prices reach Sassicaia levels?
Found the Irpinia Cinque Querce 2010 as well as a De Conciliis 2012 called "Donnaluna." Drank the Irpinia on Saturday night with Melissa Clark's Pastel Isreali meat pie (http://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017731-pastel-israeli-spiced-meat-pie). Color: Pretty much black unless held to the light. Nose: blackberry, tobacco, spicy. Taste: huge hit of intense blackberry up front, plus licorice, tobacco, oaky, cumin, cedar, cinnamon, extremely complex and balanced wine. Quite tannic at first, dries out your cheeks at the finish. Eventually cherry and black pepper components appear. Very jammy and mouth filling texture, almost seems sweet (but it's not).
On Sunday (day two), the tannins mellowed out greatly, the cherry component became more prominent, more earthy. The spices remained about the same, while the oak and cedar receded. In some respects, like drinking a second wine. Because of its softer character, the wine now went well with zatar spiced roast chicken thighs and "smashed" potatoes. Overall, a powerful but well constructed wine that demands beef and lamb dishes when first opened, might age well for 10 years. Would love to try recipes from Campania and Basilicata because I know almost nothing about these regions.
Saving the Donnaluna for next week.
Found the Irpinia Cinque Querce 2010 as well as a De Conciliis 2012 called "Donnaluna." Drank the Irpinia on Saturday night with Melissa Clark's Pastel Isreali meat pie (http://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1017731-pastel-israeli-spiced-meat-pie). Color: Pretty much black unless held to the light. Nose: blackberry, tobacco, spicy. Taste: huge hit of intense blackberry up front, plus licorice, tobacco, oaky, cumin, cedar, cinnamon, extremely complex and balanced wine. Quite tannic at first, dries out your cheeks at the finish. Eventually cherry and black pepper components appear. Very jammy and mouth filling texture, almost seems sweet (but it's not).
On Sunday (day two), the tannins mellowed out greatly, the cherry component became more prominent, more earthy. The spices remained about the same, while the oak and cedar receded. In some respects, like drinking a second wine. Because of its softer character, the wine now went well with zatar spiced roast chicken thighs and "smashed" potatoes. Overall, a powerful but well constructed wine that demands beef and lamb dishes when first opened, might age well for 10 years. Would love to try recipes from Campania and Basilicata because I know almost nothing about these regions.
Saving the Donnaluna for next week.
VSB: might I recommend the wonderful book "My Love for Naples," by Anna Teresa Callen. She lived many years there, but as an adult was a New Yorker and a revered cooking teacher and cookbook author. The recipes in her book are delicious and doable.
chefjune: Thank you! Did a little searching online and made the happy discovery that pizza evolved from earlier flatbreads in the region. Might finally have the excuse necessary to make my own dough from scratch.
My wife and I just returned from a trip to Campania, where, thanks to the kind assistance of a friend who runs a local wine store, we were able to visit Mastroberardino for a tasting. Their wines are truly extraordinary — not just the red Taurasi but also fine whites such as Fiano di Avellino and Greco di Tufo. Having visited Piemonte last year, I can attest that the highest-end versions of Aglianico rival the best that that region has to offer. Another interesting discovery from our trip (not surprising to anyone who spends time tasting the same grape grown by different producers): the Aglianico produced in the area south of Salerno, near Paestum, has a very different quality than that made near Avellino. Not better, necessarily, just different. The soil there is less volcanic, more mineral, and this brings out different notes in the wine — the fruit more pronounced, the tannins a bit less prominent. We had a fabulous Aglianico from there made by Jungano, but, like many producers, their annual yield is quite small and the wines rarely make it to the United States.
1
Yes, aglianico is quite transparent, and expresses terroir exceedingly well. Of the producers I mentioned, both Luigi Maffini and De Conciliis make aglianicos from the Paestum region.
1
Thanks for the varietal education, though I'd like to ask how you came about that this grape and not the other 1000 varietals in Italy is perhaps the least known. For most US consumers, that leaves 990 unknown, and for a master, at least 500. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Italian_grape_varieties
Todd, I didn't say that aglianico was the least-known of Italy's 1,000 or so grapes. I said it was the least known of Italy's great grapes. A very different thing, and narrows the field among red grapes to a handful, or maybe two handfuls. Feel free to debate!
1
Yes, Eric, another Italian winner. I first tried Aglianicos only less than a year ago. I think that Spuntino restaurant and wine bar even has an offering by the glass.
As in many Italian wines, Aglianicos is big in fruit, but complex, as you write. It's funny, because at first I wasn't going to give it a try, under the rationalization, "I know what I like... Sangiovese, Nebbiolo, Valpolicella, Amarone... why anything else?" But this is another fine wine.
Bonne vendange!
As in many Italian wines, Aglianicos is big in fruit, but complex, as you write. It's funny, because at first I wasn't going to give it a try, under the rationalization, "I know what I like... Sangiovese, Nebbiolo, Valpolicella, Amarone... why anything else?" But this is another fine wine.
Bonne vendange!
Oh my goodness! I can still remember my first taste of Aglianico - the always fabulous Mastroberardino Taurasi - back in 1985. There weren't many others being imported then. I love its mouthfilling quality. And it is a wonderful "winter wine," because it can be so warming.
We are in great luck with the next segment of the Wine School featuring Southern Italian wine - a perfect match for all of us meeting at the Leopard! Coincidence or little help from Mr. Asimov? Thank you, and we would love if you joined us! Looking forward to dinner paired with Aglianico.
Benissimo! Several (okay, two so far) Wine Students and their families will be tasting and dining this month at the lovely, Southern Italian, Leopard at des Artistes theleopardnyc.com . Could there be a more fitting wine to enjoy there than an Aglianico? Hardly! The date is Sunday, Nov. 8, the corkage is waived, and we would love to have any other Wine Schoolers—pupils or much-esteemed professor—at the table with us as we roll up sleeves and delve into this month’s arduous lesson.
We are in great luck with the next segment of the Wine School featuring Southern Italian wine - a perfect match for all of us meeting at the Leopard! Coincidence or little help from Mr. Asimov? Thank you, and we would love if you joined us! Looking forward to dinner paired with Aglianico.