Italy’s Natural Wine Energy Is Coming From The Places You’d Least Expect
Plus, my report on blaufränkisch from Burgenland.
Over at The New Wine Review, I published my report from VinNatur New York, a natural wine fair focused on Italian producers. Over two days, I tasted from more than 40 winemakers from all over Italy. This was the first event in the U.S. for VinNatur, founded in 2006 as Italy’s oldest natural wine organization.
VinNatur was really eye-opening to me. I find that Italy comes up much less than in natural-wine chatter than places like the Loire Valley or Beaujolais in France, Burgenland in Austria, Australia’s Adelaide Hills, or perhaps Catalonia in Spain. As I write in my piece:
“Part of that is because Italians were somewhat slower to embrace the natural wine movement—well behind the French, in particular. That is not to say that Italy doesn’t have famous natural wine superstars. From the earliest days of the movement, there was Josko Gravner and Stanislao Radikon in Friuli, Arianna Occhipinti and Frank Cornelissen in Sicily, La Stoppa in Emilia-Romagna, Paolo Bea in Umbria, Marino Colleoni in Tuscany, and others. But overall, Italy’s wine culture has always been much more conservative, conventional, and dominated by bigger brands.”
Gianpaolo Giacobbo—an Italian wine writer who presented a seminar on the “Evolution of Natural Wine in Italy”—said that during the early days of the natural wine movement, Italian wine culture had been more centered on an agri-business mentality. Traditional Italian wine drinks also seemed much more sensitive to perceived flaws. “In the early years, we didn’t have the culture for it. For us, we are really new to this sort of work, ” Giacobbo said.
A diverse new wave of Italian natural wine was on full display from around the boot. But the wines that struck me the most came from two of Italy’s mainstay regions, Veneto and Tuscany.
In Tuscany, I was taken by wineries such as La Torre alle Tolfe in Chianti Colli Sensi, Podere Erica in Chianti Classico, and Fattoria Lavacchio in Chianti Rufina. A number of natural winemakers in Chianti are bottling both classic DOCG wines as well as single-varietal bottlings of local grapes like ciliegiolo, canaiolo, and colorino in the more general Toscana Rosso IGT classification. “I definitely think Chianti is changing its mentality,” Teresa Castellani of La Torre alle Tolfe told me.
And then there was the Veneto:
Yet it was the wines from Veneto that left the biggest impression on me at VinNatur. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Veneto, even working for a time in Soave and Colli Berici. Home of Valpolicella, Prosecco, Amarone, and Soave, the Veneto has always been dominated by big brands and cooperatives. It’s never struck me as a natural wine kind of place. Perhaps I’d taken my eye off the ball, though, because I was surprised by how much natty energy there now is in the region.
When it comes to Garganeaga, the oceans of middling Soave over the last 50 years have given the grape a bad reputation. So it was great to see some natural producers such as Santa Colomba (in Colli Berici near Vicenza), Volcanalia (with four hectares between Verona and Vicenza, outside of Soave) pushing the limits of what that grape can be—including skin contact renditions that felt light years away from the Soave of late 20th century television commericals.
“If you’re not doing skin contact with Garganega, what are you even doing?” joked Giulia Masiero, as we tasted through Masiero’s exceptional Lazaro bottling—which may have been the top wine of the tasting for me.
Beyond Garganega, I was enamored with the wines Casa Belfi, near Treviso, and its amphora aged frizzante wines made from Glera—a far cry from everyday Prosecco—as well as their bottlings of the Manzoni, a grape whose parents are Riesling and Pinot Blanc. I also enjoyed an interesting Manzoni from Terre Grosse, also in Treviso, as well as their frizzante wine made from another rare local grape called Grapariol.
I’ll be visiting Tuscany and Veneto in the coming weeks, and I intend to delve deeper. For now, please give my full piece in The New Wine Review a read.
Let’s Make Blaufränkisch Great Again?
Is Austria’s greatest grape is ready for the spotlight.
Also in The New Wine Review, I just published a report on blaufränkisch from Austria’s Burgenland, with tasting notes on 14 top bottles. These Austrian reds are drinking so well right now, and almost all of them are under $50, and incredible value for such wonderful, ageworthy wines.
Some compare Blaufränkisch from Burgenland to cru Beaujolais or northern Rhone syrah. But when I taste older vintages, great Blaufränkisch reminds me of Nebbiolo. With the combination of juicy freshness, a savory core, surprising dark mineral notes like hot asphalt on a summer day, and beautiful aromas of rose petals, they could easily fool a lot of Barolo aficionados.
Besides Moric, look for Blaufränkisch from other great Burgenland producers such as Markus Altenburger, Claus Preisinger, Heinrich, Nittnaus, Wachter-Wiesler, Weninger, Kolfok, as well as famed natural-wine names like Christian Tschida, Judith Beck, and Gut Oggau. As a region, Burgenland is a worldwide leader in organic, biodynamic, and sustainable winegrowing.
In the piece, I suggest that what’s been holding back the popularity of blaufränkisch in the U.S. is its name—with an umlaut, three syllables, and foreign pronunciation. My solution? A nickname: Blue Frank. Hey, it worked for “Grooner”!
Headed to Italy this summer for a natural wine tour. I'm excited to dig into these producers, what their thoughts are, and how things are going for them! Thanks for this primer.
Vermouth is about leisure, about time, about attention, about contemplation, about conversation, about all the things that make the hora de vermú an beloved institution. It is the Mediterranean way of life, which is more than a lifestyle and more than a plate of paella. I don't know how many Americans (besides you and me and a few other enlightened souls) could get behind it. I definitely think that more should.