It's Always Sunny In Soave Classico
Soave always carries a lot of baggage. But its top single-vineyard wines are among the best whites in the world.
About a decade ago, I stepped away from journalism for a short time, to work for Inama, a winery run by wonderfully crazy family that makes Soave Classico and also red wines in the Colli Berici, south of Vicenza, a strange appellation where carménère is grown.
What was my actual job for the Inamas? That’s hard to say. In the loosest sense, I suppose I was the family’s so-called “brand ambassador” in the U.S. I organized media dinners, sampled their wines with influencers, and organized a comparative tasting of their reds versus Chilean carménère. I did some copywriting. I helped them navigate the draconian state liquor monopoly of Pennsylvania. I attempted to mentor their youngest son on the ways of the American wine market as he transitioned from being a DJ in London back to a job in the family business. Thank god he followed zero of my lessons, because he is now a much better ambassador of the family brand. Essentially, I spent a year finding out that I was pretty bad at wine sales and marketing.
I remember one sweltering day in July, lugging a case of wine around Manhattan along with a rep from their distributor, pouring samples in plastic cups for disinterested wine-shop managers. When I expressed my surprise at how dismissive most of the buyers were, the rep replied: “Well, not to be rude, but why should they care about this Soave? There are 10,000 other wines with great stories, too.”
I am no longer an ambassador, but I often think about how totally wrong that sales rep was. If you like wine, you should care a lot about good Soave. The best expressions can stand alongside some of the most renowned white wines in the world. This week, I published a piece in Wine Enthusiast’s Volcano Issue on Soave’s top single-vineyard wines. I hope you will click on the link and read the full feature.
For years, I’ve been extolling the virtues of a handful of top producers—such as Prà, Pieropan, Suavia, Gini, and Inama. Many of their bottles represent amazing value, generally $22 to $40. But in Soave you always have to be careful what you choose. Mostly, you want Soave Classico, the geographic bullseye of the region with soils that are mostly volcanic, from basaltic lava to volcanic tuff to the so-called orizzonti rossi. You’re also looking for specific single vineyards.
The only way to tell such a story of terroir is the ability to name specifics on the label. Which is why, in 2019, the the Consorzio Tutela Vini Soave established 33 distinct zones, or Unità Geografiche Aggiuntive (UGA). Soave, at long last, has something like a cru system and producers can put meaningful vineyards like Foscarino, Carbonare, Frosca, and Monte Grande on the label. Here’s a map.
This new cru system is a good step forward. But Soave always carries a special sort of baggage in the wine world that’s hard to overcome. As I write in my Wine Enthusiast piece:
Bad reputations are hard to shake. It’s an almost immutable law of wine writing that you must recount Soave’s shady past when you write about it. For most of the 21st century, that story has gone like this: Soave was super popular in the 1970s and early 1980s as a cheap, not-very-complex white wine made by cooperatives who favored quantity over quality and was heavily advertised on television. At one time, it was among the best-selling Italian wines in the U.S. But by the end of the 20th century, as Boomers gained more wine knowledge, they shunned their old favorite—moving on to Pinot Grigio or other whites. Soave languished.
However, as the contemporary wine writer always dutifully points out: There are still great wines from Soave, and you should try them! This has pretty much been the Soave pitch for about 20 or even 30 years. I, too, am guilty of this hackneyed narrative. More than a decade ago, I wrote an article for The Washington Post, “Soave: Haunted by Its Pitiful Past,” in which I implored readers to “start a new relationship with Soave, which over the past few years has become one of Italy’s most interesting whites.” In 2024, wine professionals keep telling the same story.
The problem with this narrative is that no one under the age of 50 remembers the Soave craze of the 1970s. And many of us who do were only children at the time. I certainly remember Soave Bolla TV commercials (much like I remember those “Riunite on Ice” spots from the golden age of wine ads on TV). I would have seen them when our babysitter let us stay up late to watch Love Boat or Fantasy Island. This was the same era when Orson Welles hawked Paul Masson (“We will sell no wine before its time”) and Blue Nun was sold as “the wine that’s correct with any dish.” Which is to say that this is ancient history. It would be just as relevant to reference Pliny the Elder’s (who died in the year 79 A.D.) opinion on the wines of Soave. Comparing good Soave to this bad Soave of old means nothing to a younger generation.
So, I propose we stop talking about Soave’s past. There’s no need to talk about the poor Soave of yore, since there’s plenty of middling, mass-produced Soave in the present. Almost half of the wine in the Soave DOC, for instance, is made by one massive cooperative with over 2,000 members. We need to stop talking generally about Soave in any macro sense and instead focus on the micro.
Look, let’s just be honest. There’s a ton of cheap, lame Soave. There was in the 1980s and there is now. But there’s a ton of middling, insipid wine everywhere. You always need to look for good producers.
While I generally steer people toward Soave Classico, on my last visit, I was blown away by the wines made by Dal Cero, which sits outside the Classico zone in a cru called Ronca Monte Calvarina. Dal Cero’s Tenuta Corte Giacobbe Runcata, which is labeled as Soave Superiore DOCG is worth seeking out (see below). Grown at 600 meters altitude (about 300 meters higher than Soave Classico), the garganega here reaches higher levels of acidity that even in Classico. “There was a feeling that the only good Soave wines were in Classico, but that’s not the case,” says Francesca Dal Cero.
When I visited my old friends Matteo Inama and his father Stefano, they had me taste an unlabled “off the record” wine that they say will sell for north of $100 a bottle. A Soave over $100! We have definitely left the 1980s.
I explained my reaction to this high-end Soave in Wine Enthusiast:
It was certainly exquisite. However, after considering it for a moment, I asked, “But does it taste like Soave?”
“What is even the tradition of fine wine in Soave?” replied Matteo, with a chuckle. “We are like cavemen here.”
Stefano chimed in: “Can Soave be a top white like Burgundy or German Riesling? We didn’t know before. We didn’t have anyone running the marathon in front of us. We didn’t have any reference. But now we know.”
Six Soave To Seek
All of the wines here are examples of Soave’s “grand crus,” grown on old vines in volcanic soils, and all ageworthy.
Inama Soave Classico Foscarino 2021, $22
From 50-year-old vines, full-bodied and steely, with wildflowers, honeysuckle, pear, and almond, layered with a pleasant earthy finish. To level up, try Inama I Palchi, made from micro-parcels in Foscarino.
Gini Soave Classico La Froscà 2020, $24
From 90-year-old vines, full of peach, almond blossoms, and even a bit of tropical fruit, along with intense minerality—salt, chalk, stone—and great length.
Suavia Soave Classico Monte Carbonare 2021, $27
By turns delicate and powerful, with complex notes of stone and citrus fruit, smokey and herbal. A wine that’s both fresh and serious, and full of tension.
Prá Soave Classico Monte Grande 2020, $29
Rich and warm wine from 60-year-old vines that’s waxy, peppery, floral, and full of grapefruit, orange zest, honey, and chamomile. If you want to see how this one ages, pick up the 2016.
Pieropan Soave Classico La Rocca 2021, $40
One of Italy’s classic whites, identified as a single-vineyard expression since the 1970s. Ripe, full of spice, notes of pineapple, pear, nutmeg, honeysuckle. Expansive, complex with great texture.
Dal Cero Tenuta Corte Giacobbe Runcata 2020, $47
From Ronca Monte Calvarina, a cru outside the Classico area. Stunning, complex, with layers of pineapple, green melon, pepper, acacia, white blossoms, with underlying saltiness and nuttiness and a long finish. I also tasted nice older vintages of Runcata back to 2017, suggesting its ageability.
I am new to Soave since moving north. (those Reunite commercials!!) What a revelation! When I order a bottle for the table I see the panic flash in people's eyes and then they take a sip. And always say, wow!
My favorites are from the Cantina Filippi. I am adding your favorites to my to do list.
I'm glad to hear that I am not the only one that remembers the sorry state of the Soave DOC back in the 70s and 80s. Yes, I was a child, so therefore wasn't drinking it; so I only know about it in the historical sense of the word.
But as they say, what is old is new again. With a lot of serious wine drinkers getting tired of mass produced insipid Pinot Grigio, Soave Classico and/or Soave Superiore (Classico?) could have a renaissance. Maybe?
It seem to be more of an inside knowledge thing, as it doesn't create the same buzz of Etna Bianco, Greco di Tufo, Fiano di Avellino, Alto Adige top crus, etc. That hopefully will keep the prices at the the 2 digit range rather than the 3 digit range, fingers crossed.