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| Dianella Chianti 2022 $19 Zero oak; fermented in stainless and aged in concrete, mostly sangiovese with some colorino. Montesecondo Chianti Classico 2021 $32 Montefili Chianti Classico 2019 $38 Le Boncie “Chiesa Monti” Toscana 2021 $84 Quercecchio Brunello di Montalcino 2019 $49 |
| Italian wine pundit and natural wine advocate Sandro Sangiorgi uses the term “digeribilità,” or “digestibility,” to describe a certain desideratum he looks for in well-made natural wines. I do not doubt that this term resonates differently in Italian than it does in English, as the term digestibility, to me at least, points to the empire of fusty old folks’ foods, such as Kellog’s All-Bran cereal, prune juice, and a nice glass of orange-flavored Metamucil. But to Sangiorgi, the term digeribilità points to a tonic quality in some wines that makes them feel liberating as you drink them, as if your gut, if it had words, would mutter, “now we’re talkin’!” It’s a quality I ordinarily associate with lighter-bodied wines that if you fail to pay attention, make you wonder what it is you are drinking, and then suddenly, the bottle is empty. Wines unburdened by over-ripeness, thicc, syrupy extract, and the monotonous noise of too much new oak. This week we’re tasting a range of very digestible, sangiovese-based wines originating from Tuscany, the heartland of the grape variety. Why, and why now? Well, I’ll tell you why, sonny: it’s because this grape can make both profound wines, suitable for long-term cellaring, but also more humble examples of the sort of digeribilità wines you might be happy to drink nearly every day of your life, but in particular with the sort of hearty foods we begin to crave as the weather turns cooler.
Sangiovese is the beating heart of the best-known Tuscan wine, Chianti, and is the most widely planted grape in Italy, an identity that is both a plus and a minus. On the plus side is that with so many growers working with it, it’s conceivable that you might find not a few compelling wines made from this grape. The minus is that with so many players, and in particular the expansion of the Chianti designation in the early 30s to cover a territory that is now much larger than it was historically, there’s just too much stultifying industrial wine grown indifferently on soils unsuitable for sangiovese. Red check tablecloth sort of stuff with piped-in sentimental accordion tunes that you might suffer through in silence, consoling yourself that regret is the key to getting it; though the reality is that there is an ocean of wines in the age of mechanical reproduction that only need to meet a single criterion: that they are cheap. To overcompensate for the dross, some growers make super Tuscan wines pimped out with international varieties such as merlot and cabernet and aged in new oak barriques, which end up scoring high scores but end up tasting like any other merlot and cabernet-centric wine that targets an imaginary international palate. And I’m afraid that it’s both the dull and classy stuff that tarnishes both Chianti and sangiovese, the grape synonymous with it. Sangiovese is a protean grape that has many faces and many phenotypes, making it difficult to generalize what the wines are like, but here’s an attempt to describe what to expect from the good stuff. The classical expression is that of a consummate gastronomic wine of the sort that makes you hungry: medium-bodied, with refreshing acidity, moderate tannins, and aged in enormous barrels called botti grande. These wines are equally at home with a pizza as they are with a steak. And while sangiovese can at times make very darkly pigmented wines, depending on the phenotype, such wines are often an indication of the presence of additional merlot or cabernet. Tonight, sangiovese unvarnished, with zero international varieties, and ranging from the very simple sort of digeribilità wine you can drink nearly every day, to more profound stuff, including a Brunello that’s not too oaky, and is ready to drink. |