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Paradise in Piemonte.
If I found perfection in a pub in England, I found paradise for the wine geek in Piemonte. This promises to be the last installment of eating and drinking well in Italy. For now. But first let's sample some from the Talking Heads: This ain't no party, this ain't no disco,
Now that we established that, let's eat and drink. To repeat. Piemonte is the most wonderful place in the world for a wino. Truly spectacular. And for a foodie, the eye-rolling, stomach dropping food phrase "fantastic" is short of describing the region's true truffle-like virtues. But first to the vines. Vineyards in valleys, vineyards on the side of the road, even two or three vines stuck in the intersections of sharp turns in the road. If the sight of vineyards butting up against vineyards isn't enough to get you drunk by default, the Italian Alps in the distance destroy any concept of a horizon line and brings your eyes closer to heavenly blue skies that bend into white-capped mountains. I stayed in the small hilltop town called Monforte d'Alba. Outside my one-room apartment at Hotel Felicin I had a terrace over a valley furnished with a morning rooster wake up call and the lingering smell of hazelnut trees farmed by the "Nutella" company in not so distant city of Alba. I arrived late on Saturday afternoon, found the local enoteca and bought myself a bottle of Barbera. The proprietor of the wine shop offered to open the bottle for me, after he saw me salivating over the small selection of less than 100 or so labels for well over a half an hour. I said, certainly, and walked out of the wine shop with my thumb atop the cork and fingers firmly around the bottleneck. I truly felt like a wino in a New York City street scene kind of way. Back on my terrace, I poured a glass and sat content with three more days ahead of me. The bottle I purchased was a 2003 Barbera d'Alba from F.lli Seghesio ("The Brothers Seghesio"). Knowing that 2003 was a good year for Barbera in Piemonte, I didn't have to spend much money (about 10 US dollars) on the bottle to get some good plonk. And this bottle showed its stuff. A contender for Gambero Rosso's famed Tre Bicchieri ("Three Glasses" award), my glass was filled with a fruitful and floral bouquet that danced around my nose over a faint taste of chocolate. This wine drank very well and was worth a second (and third) glass before the sun went down. I was stricken from my surreal moment by the telephone ringing. The voice on the other end asked me if I would be dining at the restaurant in the hotel this evening. It is getting late and the restaurant doesn't stay open, I was warned. It was just past 8 o'clock. And I passed two hours on the terrace without time or place to worry about. Now all I had to worry about was taking a hundred steps to fill my stomach. The dining room was large and divided into three separate rooms. A formal space, a lodge-like setting and a breakfast room with vast windows to let in the morning sun. The waiter strolled by, left a menu with a smile and before I could digest it all, the chef entered the room to talk to me about the night's specialties. Although I am not the biggest fan of fish, I agreed to the appetizer - Swordfish and Tuna carpaccio - it was just about perfect floating in a sea of olive oil and roasted bell peppers. But I preferred the oxtail for dinner over whatever fish dish the handsome man was talking about. As usual, I don't listen to talk of fish dishes. Sad to say, the thought of eating fish causes my mind to turn over, eyes to go blurry and I often hum to myself to avoid childhood memories of the vile stench coming from the kitchen of my house when my Italian grandmother was frying Baccala ("salt cod"). So my delirious gaze drifted down toward the menu and the desserts - a chocolate tart with melted chocolate on top, vanilla panna cotta, a meringue and strawberry ice cream with fresh fruit. My eyes are always bigger than my stomach, and today my stomach is bigger for eating them all. Yes, a sampling of all of the above, listed right there on the bottom of the menu. I pointed and smiled when the time came. And of course a bottle of Barolo for dinner. How could you not. The wines of Luigi Pira, made from grapes just a mile from my hotel are artisanal, boutique or whatever word you wish to describe them when talking about small production, hand-crafted, high-quality whatever. I dined with a bottle of Pira Barolo from the Vigna Rionda harvested in 1998. Before the first sip, with my nose tucked in the glass the lyrics to the Beach Boy's "Help Me Rhonda," danced in my head, a god-awful connection as I realized my career as a wine-writer was in jeopardy before it ever began. But Vigna Rionda was the best date a man could have this very evening - elegant, pure and dazzling in dark, ruby red color... but before continuing my rave of Piemontese wine. There was another meal to speak of. Fast forward to Monday. I was driving South of Monforte to an afternoon appointment and I stumbled on a wonderful off-the beaten path restaurant after navigating the Smart Car down a pebbly slope that turned out to be a wrong turn but a right decision. I found a man, with little or no teeth and those teeth that he had were near black as the bottom of a wine bottle. I was impressed and infatuated with the man's mouth but didn't get a chance to compliment him, because I was hungry and I needed a restaurant recommendation. To which, he responded quickly with a few finger swags representing right turns and left turns and presto one of the best restaurants on the other side of town. Also the only restaurant in town. In the town of Moline there is a restaurant, at the point of a fork in the road. Its name is "Albero Fiorito" and you should plan your next vacation around it. For just 20 Euro a person you were well fed and allowed to eat a tasting of every dish they offered from the kitchen which was carried out in family sized portions and spooned on your plate. It all began with three appetizers (three massive blocks of cheese on a board that you were to cut yourself, sliced meats forked delicately into floral designs on your plate and a vegetable tart). Following were two pastas (both with mushrooms, a ravioli seconded by a heap of spaghetti) and three desserts (a hazelnut tort, a semi-freddo with torrone and a lemon gelato to cleanse your palate). With lunch I drank the fresh local Dolcetto, near a whole liter of it. I wasn't sure that driving was a good option at this point (you will find out why in a minute), so I was off to follow the sounds of a cascading river and to sit on a park bench, before the afternoon appointment. Earlier on Monday morning I had a breakfast wine tasting with Renzo Seghesio (not one of the brothers but a cousin of the Seghesio's mentioned above). [Linking to an earlier post, we met Renzo in Verona at Vinitaly.] Renzo's "winery" is behind his garage and consumes the whole first floor of his house. It has been there for years he told me and so has the construction work on the house that seems never to get finished to his wife's dismay. How many years, I asked about the cellar. "Oh, more than twenty," which would make Renzo a "garagiste," (a "Garage" wine maker that reached extreme popularity in Bordeaux about five years ago). Renzo like many of Europe's producers, I have learned, do it this way and the wine writers and savvy marketers were just a little late in promoting it as such. Today, it seems the marketing fad has come and gone. We decided to taste before a visit to his vineyard (24 acres), which was just up the hill and not to far away, stuck there between the Clerico's and all the Conterno's. After the visit to the vineyard we went back to his house to finish off the bottles of Barolo, 1996 and 1998. We couldn't let something almost 10 years old sit and welcome itself into a secondary life of vinegar. Alas, here are my tasting notes from the breakfast wine tasting with Renzo Seghesio and my praise of Piemonte varietals. Dolcetto 2004. We started the morning with the Dolcetto. Only a year and half old, Dolcetto ages fast and drinks very dry, almost like the sandstone dust that you find on the grape skins in the middle of a hot August. Therefore, this wine had wonderful earthy flavors accented with scents of violets in bloom and tart, under-ripe red fruit. Barbera 2003. I mentioned above how wonderful the 2003 Barbera was from F.lli Seghesio; however, I can't say the same for Renzo's 2003. Although the wine was in balance and jam-packed with fruit flavors, I felt it was a little closed. Maybe it isn't a 'tasting wine' as some say, needs a couple more months or a year in the bottle or is better suited for some fatty meats to mix with and not the cappuccino that was still settling in my stomach. Nebbiolo 2004. After the Dolcetto and the Barbera we opened the Nebbiolo. The wine had a light toasted oak taste. Renzo uses traditional Botti, large casks two and three times as big as the pack-it-in-with-a-punch woody French barriques. The wine was wonderfully soft and round, even though it was young. Renzo told me as I swirled, sniffed and sipped that the wine has a lot of potential to really get nitty and gritty and orange rust around the edges in the next couple of years. Nebbiolo is the grape used to make the region's famed Barolo wines and offers scents and flavors of dark cherries, red roses and black olives. Barolo. Starting with the 1998. This wine had the best perfume of any of the wines. And it had a markedly different color than its older 1996 sibling that we tasted just after. Side by side you would have said that the 1998 was the 1996 because of its reddish brown hues. But, as mentioned, the perfume was wonderful. Think a single, in bloom rose growing through a freshly paved, hot summer, black-tar street. In the mouth, the tastes continue with some herb filled chocolate complexity. And finishes softly. Lingering. The 1996 Barolo although with surprisingly more intense color you would expect more fruit flavors, but the wine had a great deal of earthiness on the nose and in the mouth and was very fresh. The tannins were in balance and it finished well. Renzo said this wine was "particular" and "strangely different" than any wine he has made before. The wonderful growing season, hot and long, made these wines very youthful and slow to mature. And you can still savor the finish of grape must well over a minute in the mouth. Interesting wine. I have never been one to rate wines, but if I had to pick my favorites, it would be the '98 Barolo followed by the '04 Nebbiolo. - Here are my notes from my Grape Guide that talks about the Piemonte varietals. Nebbiolo.
Barbera.
Dolcetto.
- No time for dancing, or lovey dovey,
Wine Post - May'06 Back to home...
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