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| Brandini “Filari Lunghi” Dolcetto d’Alba 2022 Giordano “Buschet” Barbera d’Alba Gianluigi Lano “Lanot” Langhe Rosso 2019 Anzivino Nebbiolo Costa della Sesia 2019 Reverdito Verduno Pelaverga 2022 Boniperti “Bartön” Fara 2014 Ricci “Elso” 2016 |
| At the core of Italy’s Piemonte region lie the Langhe hills where the nebbiolo grape reigns as king and found in some of Italy’s most exceptional and long-lived red wines, Barolo and Barbaresco. These important wines have a significance that is seemingly guaranteed by their high tariff, raising the eternal but bland question: is a wine good because it is expensive, or is it expensive because it is uniquely delicious? Along with the glorious and scarce white truffles of the region, Barolo provides something not only of profound exchange value but also something with profound social capital—a murmuring chorus chants, “if you have to ask, you can’t afford it.” Or, better yet, Bently. And while nebbiolo is grown all over Piemonte it’s only in the Langhe growing region and in Barolo and Barbaresco in particular, that it commands such a dear price tag and only there can it assume its ultimate form. At least, that is the story. At the periphery of Piemonte lie ostensibly also-ran grapes such as croatina and vespolina: they are both culturally and geographically at the periphery, as these grapes and are not found in the Langhe proper but limn the southern and northern limits of Piemonte, perhaps because, many years ago, the captains of industry determined that they were of lesser value. And then there are grapes that are increasingly marginal, such as freisa and pelaverga, which monied locals enjoy for what they are but rarely take seriously, deprecated as quaint, archaic vestiges of what once was (freisa is one of the genetic ancestors of nebbiolo). But even within the Langhe proper, where a grower may lavish her love upon her nebbiolo vines, preferring to plant them in the most privileged, sun-drenched parts of their vineyards, she will then plant the less privileged surface with far less vaunted varieties such as barbera, dolcetto, or freisa.
This sort of grape redlining is, I believe, a vestige of the Middle Ages, where a trip of just a few kilometers could be daunting and dangerous, providing a fertile environment for feeding the narcissism of minor differences. If you have ever visited the Italian countryside, you will see this writ large on the ecology of pastries. Here, we eat panforte, but a few kilometers to the south, if you ask for panforte, they will look at you funny. This center/periphery relationship is hardly unique to Piemonte, and you will find it repeated everywhere you look—in particular, Burgundy, and it is no historical accident that in the 19th century, the Piemontese began to view Burgundy as their model. To be sure, nebbiolo is indeed a grape that can, in good vintages and with the right touch, make extraordinary wines that you can enjoy for decades, but I think that the secret decoder ring for these wines is in experiencing the organoleptic fabric of what else folks drink in the region, which it turns out, is quite a lot. So, this week’s tasting focuses on the center and periphery of Italy’s Piemonte region: seven wines, seven different grape varieties. We are of course tasting a Langhe nebbiolo, but one that is meant not to age for fifty years but rather to enjoy in the moment. We are also tasting pelaverga, a grape with ostensive aphrodisiacal powers, a delightful, gastronomic freisa blend, and the basso profundo of croatina with several years of bottle age. |