Damilano Lecinquevigne -- A Modern Take on Barolo

A bottle of Barolo – the Italian “Wine of Kings” – recently made its way to Vine HQ for a visit.

Barolo doesn’t make many appearances around these parts. This wine from the same-named area of the Piedmont region commands respect on any wine list and an emptying of most wine drinkers’ wallets. Almost all Barolo are high-priced wines. Decent Barolo usually start at around $50 and go up from there. It’s not uncommon to see good vintages hung with pricetags upwards of $150.

When this particular bottle showed up, thanks to the good folks at Colangelo, I did a double-reason double-take. What was so different about the Damilano 2010 Barolo “Lecinquevigne”? First off, the vintage. 2010? Most Barolo, or so I understood, require around 7 years in bottle for its powerful tannins to chill out enough for the wine to become drinkable. Second – the retail on this wine was $35. Thirty-five clams for an actual Barolo? Inconthievable!

OK, so what gives here? Why is Barolo so expensive, and how’d this wine end up being so much less so? And why can I supposedly pop and pour this bottle, when I’d expect to wait until 2017 under normal circumstances?

Barolo is made from the Nebbiolo grape, a small, thin-skinned grape that’s notoriously hard to grow. The juice from Nebbiolo is super-high in both tannin and acidity. In the traditional method of making Barolo, the fermenting juice soaks with the skins of the grapes – a process called maceration -- for almost a month in some cases, extracting the maximum amount of tannin from the skins. The resulting juice is then aged in large containers called botti for at least two years and sometimes much longer. Once bottled, the wine had to sit for a long time, as I’ve already mentioned. The resulting Barolo’s tannic, powerful flavors can be challenging for many wine drinkers.

[Side note: Interestingly, “traditional” Barolo-making technique has only been around since the 1920’s, when the French, of all folks, brought these techniques to the region. Prior to that time, the Nebbiolo-based wines in that area were sweet, light in color, and slightly fizzy.]

In the 1980’s, the region went through what some writers termed the “Barolo Wars.” A group of winemakers, again influenced by their Burgundian counterparts, decided to employ more modern harvesting and winemaking techniques. These techniques included green harvesting (removing unripe grapes from ripening clusters to improve the remaining grapes), temperature-controlled fermentation, and the use of commercial yeast for more control over the product.

Additionally, these modernist winemakers used smaller barrels called barriques. Barriques typically hold around 60 gallons of wine, compared to botti, which can hold up to 4,000 gallons. Smaller barrels and shorter maceration times combine to create wine that is more approachable flavor-wise and can be drunk after a shorter period of time. These “modern” Barolo tend not to have the extended aging capacity as their more “traditional” brethren.

Which brings us to the Damilano. Damilano Winery was founded in the 1890’s, yet clearly falls on the “modern” end of the spectrum winemaking-wise. They make four “cru” Barolo (interesting that they’d use the French term) which are in the $70-80 range. The wine I received, the “Lecinquevigne,” is a blend of grapes from vineyards across these “cru.” Hence, it has a lower price – as seen with most second label wines. The name “Lecinquevigne” translates as “Five Vineyards” and has given my spellcheck a somewhat permanent case of the yips.

I wasn’t hip to the history of the “wine wars” before starting this column, and the Barolo I’d tried previously had been, as far as I know, from the “traditional” end of the spectrum. I didn’t know the history when I took my notes, and I was somewhat reassured when I tasted this – because I thought there was something a little different about the Lecinquevigne.

The nose flew at me rich and fragrant. I initially got strawberries, cotton candy, and some woodiness. The traditional “tar and roses” aroma that Barolo is known for emerged a bit as the wine got more air. But the flavors were soft and subtly dark. There’s plenty of mouth-coating tannin in the medium body, with notes of licorice, cherry, and leather. The finish is super-long, lots of strong tea flavor that lasts a couple of minutes if you let it. That said, I wouldn’t call it overly complex, compared to many other Barolo.

This isn’t meant to be a slam; it is a really good wine. The intent of the modernist winemaker clearly shows through. Traditional Barolo’s power and harsh tannin is Exhibit A of the male end of the “masculine vs. feminine” wine divide. It is the “Wine of Kings,” after all. Modern Barolo has a much softer, “feminine” flair. I enjoyed the Lecinquevigne quite a bit, but it might not sit as well with traditional Barolo enthusiasts. I don’t know if it would pass the Uncle Alan test. We had this bottle over the course of two nights – once with a beef tenderloin braised in three wines, and again with a late-summer-veggie minestrone. Both worked very nicely with this more mellow version of Barolo.

At $35, I’d certainly recommend it. I think it’s a pretty darned good wine – especially if you’re still learning about Barolo and deciding whether it’s for you.

Italian Indigenous

As you might remember from our Italian Wine Primer, there are somewhere in the neighborhood of 2,000 grapes indigenous to Italy. Variety may be the spice of life, but that much variety makes the initially-confusing Italian wine nomenclature a straight must to keep the musts straight.

(Yes, yes. I know you’re not supposed to explain your own puns, but in case you’re wondering, “must” is WineSpeak for “freshly pressed grapes.”)

Luckily for us, there are only a few dozen commonly used grapes in Italy, so the major grapes aren’t usually that difficult to keep straight. Most of the others are grown in relatively small quantities and used in local table wines. However, as winemaking technology improves and becomes more and more available to smaller growers, some of these lesser known varietals – each with their own unique characteristics – are starting to find their way off the Boot.

If you’re looking for a change of pace, some of these wines can make very interesting alternatives. I suggest speaking to your local wine guy or gal about them. Also, since they’re not as well known, they tend to be pretty good values for some reasonably tasty juice. Here are a few that I’ve tried recently:

Mustilli 2008 Piedirosso Sannio – Sannio is a subregion of Campania, situated northeast of Naples. Piedirosso is the grape, used almost exclusively in this region. The wines made from Piedirosso tend to be on the lighter side. On a warm summer evening as I was whipping up some marinara from garden tomatoes to serve over some gnocchi, this seemed like a pretty good match to me. I wasn’t disappointed. It is indeed very light – about on the level of a Beaujolais-Villages. In fact, I’d certainly throw this out as a substitute if you like that sort of wine. I’d recommend a slight chill on it, just like a Beaujolais. It’s got a very nice cherry/pomegranate flavor with only a hint of tannin. There’s a little bit of that Chianti-ish “chalk” flavor as well, but only a hint. With I may have “over-basiled” the sauce a little (if such a thing is possible), and it was able to tame that flavor without getting overwhelmed by everything else. A really nice light red alternative with any kind of tomato-ish dish. $13.

Feudo Arancio 2008 Stemmari Grillo Sicilia – Sicilia, obviously, is Sicily. Grillo is a white wine grape. Stemmari is…well…the name of the product line. Sicily has extremely hot growing conditions and Grillo works well in those climates. Grillo is best known as one of the grapes used to make Marsala. (Marsala is a place, not a grape…surprise!) Hot weather grapes often have very strong flavor profiles. It’s quite aromatic with strong floral and lemon aromas. I thought it started just a bit sweet and then tails off into a moderately citrusy flavor. There’s a bit of oiliness to it similar to Viognier. The finish is semi-dry with a few lemony flavors on the aftertaste. It’s a pleasant enough quaffing wine. It held its own with a pseudo-vichysoisse that we created one night and served alongside some “everything” bagels with smoked salmon. A very flexible food wine. You’ll find it for under $10 – an extremely solid value.

Cascina Gilli 2006 Freisa d’Asti – Freisa is a lesser-known red varietal in Piedmont. It’s overshadowed by Nebbiolo, from which Barolo and Barbaresco come; and by Barbera & Dolcetto, the more common “drinking wines.” Freisa yields a tannic, acidic wine like Nebbiolo, but it lacks the power and fullness you’ll see from that grape. This isn’t a bad thing. You end up with a wine that can stand up next to fairly heavy food without being heavy and overpowering itself. Case in point, I recently made eggplant parmesan – one of my specialties. It calls for a muscular wine. The Friesa reminded me of a light Zinfandel with a little Chianti “chalk” thrown in. It pointed up the pepper and the garlic in the sauce while still cutting through the earthiness. I would imagine it would also pair nicely with anything Zinfandel would work with – like barbecue or ribs. Besides, any grape varietal that Robert Parker describes as “totally repugnant” is worth a try in my book. $15-18.

The Naked Vine Italian Wine Primer

Ah, Italian wine. Love it. Love it. Love it. As the foodie that I am, I’m hard pressed to come up with wine that goes better with a meal than Italian wines. After all, one of the few things that Italians do better than making wine is cooking, and because they’ve been making wine as long as they have, winemakers in each region have been tailoring wines to cuisine for centuries.

As such, each region’s wine varieties tend to be fairly consistent as far as the basic flavor profile goes. I wouldn’t choose to drink a lot of them on their own for one reason or another, but line up some steamed mussels next to an Italian pinot grigio or a Sangiovese with marinara-sauced pasta and you’ve got yourself a little slice of heaven.

The trick, though, is figuring out which of these heavily vowel-labeled bottles is the right wine. Like France, Italy’s gotten a little bit better about putting the names of grape varietals and/or descriptive blurbs in English on the bottle for the “ordinary American consumer.” For the most part, however, the traditional convention still holds. The names on the bottle are generally the producer and the region. The grape is often nowhere to be found. As I’ve mentioned before, I spent most of my pre-Vine life thinking that “Chianti” was a grape varietal instead of a region in Tuscany.

Further confusing matters are exceptions to this rule. Some Italian wines do put the name of the grape on the label as a matter of course. The name of the grape is usually followed by the name of the locale, so you’ll see wines like Moscato d’Asti, Barbera d’Alba, etc. The first one, for instance, translates as “The Moscato (grape) from Asti (the town).” You’ll even run into “Montepulciano d’Abruzzo” vs. “Vin Noble di Montepulciano.” The first is a fruity, easy-drinking table wine made from the Montepulciano grape. The second is a somewhat complex Sangiovese-based wine from the town of Montepulciano.

But why? Why stick to an antiquated, confusing system of nomenclature, especially now that the world has grown much more wine savvy? Why not just label the bloomin’ bottles with whatever the heck is in there?

The answer?

Two thousand.

There are at least 2,000 indigenous grape varietals in Italy. Gaining an encyclopedic knowledge of all the grapes in the Boot that go into their bottles of yummy would be next to impossible. So, how do you know what you’re getting?

The Italian government simplified matters for us a little. They created a classification system somewhat similar to the ones in France. If you look at most bottles of Italian wine, you’ll see “DOC” or “DOCG” somewhere on the label. Without going into too much detail, the DOC/DOCG designation shows that a wine was made in a certain region using pre-determined methods containing certain grape varietals. This usually aligns with the geographic region, but a grape will sometimes be included in the designation if the varietal is a specialty of the area – like the aforementioned Moscato d’Asti, et al.

In my experience, Italian wine is an experience where you largely get what you pay for. This isn’t to say that there isn’t really good inexpensive wine from Italy. Think about it this way -- if you blindly choose $30 Bordeaux, there’s a chance that you’ll end up with a wine inferior to the $10 dollar one on the rack nearby. Italian? $15 Chianti will be perfectly drinkable, but also usually consistent with its brethren of the same price point. If you splurge on a $30 bottle, you can usually tell a difference in quality (although you may not feel that difference was worth the extra moolah).

There are hundreds of DOC/DOCG growing regions, but many of them are extremely small and you probably won’t run into them very often. Here are some of the more common regions and DOC/DOCG designations you’ll run into at the local wine stores for your reading and drinking pleasure…

Region: Campania
Common wines you’ll see: Taurasi, Fiano, Falerno
Major grapes: Aglianico, Piedirosso, Primitivo (red); Falanghia (white)
General info: Campania is the region around Naples. The best known wine from there is a robust red called Taurasi made from the Aglianico grape. Fiano is a seafood-loving white and Falerno is another big wine made from Primitivo (Zinfandel). Much of the rest of the wine from there has traditionally been known as fairly generic, although it’s improved greatly in recent years.

Region: Tuscany
Common wines you’ll see: Chianti, Brunello di Montalcino, Vin Noble di Montepulciano, Rosso di Montalcino, Rosso di Montepulciano, IGT Toscana
Major grape: Sangiovese (red – not many whites in Tuscany)
General info: Ah, Tuscany – home of some of the most famous reds wines in Italy. Most Tuscan reds are backboned by the Sangiovese grape. Brunello di Montalcino is also Sangiovese, but a specific clone of that particular grape. There’s also “Vin Santo” – a sweet dessert wine. You’ll also find “super Tuscan” wines that are bigger and heartier. These are almost always Sangiovese blended with a non-indigenous varietal like merlot or cabernet, often to please an American palate. If you see “IGT Toscana” on the label, it’s probably a Super Tuscan of some stripe. The wines tend to be very flexible, since Tuscan cuisine is some of the most varied (and delicious) food in the world. However, in my opinion, these wines are not the best to drink by themselves. They need food to show their full potential.

Region: Piedmont
Common wines you’ll see: Barbaresco, Barolo, Barbera d’Alba, Barbera d’Asti, Dolcetto d’Alba, Dolcetto d’Asti, Moscato d’Asti, Gavi
Major grapes: Nebbiolo, Barbera, Dolcetto, Moscato (red); Cortese (white)
General info: Piedmont is the mountainous region in the northwest corner of the country. The bulk of Italy’s hearty reds come from this region – especially Barolo and Barbaresco. They’re some of the most famous of the world’s wines. Barbera is a big, juicy red and Dolcetto is a lighter, acidic red – both of which make excellent everyday wines in their “generic” form. The versions from “named” places (like Barbera d’Alba for instance) have more complexity. Gavi is a crisp white made from the Cortese grape (not to be confused with Dan Cortese) which makes an interesting contrast. Piedmont wines are built to stand up to heavier meats and sauces. Even the whites handle cream sauces easily. There’s also Moscato d’Asti – a low alcohol, sweet sparkling wine which may be the best brunch wine in the world.

Regions: Sardinia & Sicily
Common wines & grapes you’ll see: Cannonau (red); Malvasia, Vernacchia, Verdicchio, Moscato (white)
General info: The islands of Italy usually end up putting the names of the grapes on the label, so you can generally run with those. Both islands, especially Sardinia, produce quantities of dry, crisp white wines made from Vernacchia, Malvasia, and Verdicchio that go perfectly with shellfish. Sicily produces a huge amount of dessert wine. The most common red is made from Cannonau, which is currently getting a great deal of publicity for its hypothesized life-extending properties. Cannonau is similar to Grenache and often makes for powerful wines, but on the islands, they’re made in a much lighter, more aromatic style.

Region: Veneto
Common wines you’ll see: Bardolino, Valpolicella, Soave, Prosecco
Major grapes: Corvina, Sangiovese (red); Prosecco, Garganega (white)
General Info: The region around Venice cranks out a huge amount of wine. The reds are usually blends backboned by the Corvina grape. These reds tend to be some of the lightest bodied in the country. Many are often served slightly chilled, much like Beaujolais. There’s actually a “Bardolino novello,” made in a similar style as Beaujolais Nouveau. The whites, like Soave are usually fruity and more or less dry. The Valdobbiadene district is the home of Prosecco, Italy’s most famous sparkling wine. It resembles Spanish cava in many ways. Interestingly, with all the light reds produced in Valpolicella, it’s also home to the most powerful red wine in Italy: Amarone. Amarone is made from raisinated grapes, which yields a concentrated, potent (upwards of 15% alcohol), tannic, tasty wine.

There are 14 other major wine growing regions in Italy and literally hundreds of DOC & DOCG designations. It’s worth it to explore. Ask for your Italian wine expert at your local store. There’s usually one major “Italophile” in every shop. They’ll usually steer you correctly. But for basics, this should take care of you for right now. Hope it helps!

The Alphabet Soup Project -- "A"

When you write a column like this one, it's easy to fall into a rut. Therefore, interspersed among my normal columns, I've decided to initiate the Alphabet Soup Project -- where I wander letter by letter...and see what we come up with.

So, to begin: A is for...alternatives.

I like to break out of the usual mold of around-the-house varietals from time to time just to see what else is out there, especially when it comes to Italian wines, since they grow so many varietals that aren't really seen commonly on this side of the Pond -- or really anywhere else, for that matter. Those crazy Italians grow something in the neighborhood of 500 varietals of grapes that can be pressed and fermented.

I broke out of my normal Sangiovese/Montepulciano/Barbera-heavy rotation of Italian reds with the Di Majo Norante 2005 Contado Molise Aglianico. In case you didn't notice, the actual grape in that lengthy title is "Aglianico." Aglianico is a varietal largely cultivated in southern Italy. It's a high-tannin, high-acid wine that usually needs a few years in bottle before it's really drinkable. I'd read that this was an exceptional pairing for pasta puttanesca, so I made a version that included some broccoli and caramelized onions. Thought I don't think of broccoli as particularly wine-friendly, this was really nice. The high acidity made it perfect for an meal like this full of spices and cheese. The acidity worked well as a palate cleanser and to bring out the bright cherry fruit that this wine has to offer. It was a little lighter than many of these wines, being similar weight to many straight Chiantis, but with considerably more structure and without the bite many of them carry. It was right around $15.

Along the same line, I wanted a drinkable Italian white for an afternoon and was looking for something pinot-grigio-ish. I landed on the Valdinera 2006 Roero Arneis. Arneis is a varietal grown in the Piedmont region, known most famously for Nebbiolo-based wines Barolo & Barbaresco and for Asti spumante. This fragrant medium-bodied white actually reminds me a great deal of Viognier. The nose is quite perfumey with plenty of melon and cider. It's medium bodied with a bit of an oily consistency that gives way to a nice amount of minerality. The finish is dry and slightly alkaline. By itself, nice enough to sip on -- but we opened on a Saturday afternoon where we'd put together a little "antipasti" for ourselves -- hard cheese, salami, and crackers -- it performed really nicely, with more fruit coming out as we worked through the food. Again, around $15.

I can have this sort of fun in France, as well. I was under the impression that all white Burgundy is made from Chardonnay. I was wrong. Danny Gold threw me the Domaine Chêne 2007 Macôn-Villages -- which is made 100% from a varietal called Aligote. Aligote is planted largely in Eastern Europe, but also makes an appearance in a few white Burgundies. It's typically lighter and more acidic, and is the traditional base for the cocktail called kir. Unlike many Macon-Villages, which are some of the oakier whites in Burgundy, this one is a crisp quaffer. The nose is lemons and minerals. It's a bit slow to start, flavorwise, but a little time and warmth reveal pleasant melon and lemon waiting for you. The finish is slightly tart and quite flinty. The minerality made it a nice pairing with spinach salad. Spinach has that chalky texture which makes it a notorious wine-killer. This wine mellowed the chalkiness, but had enough character not to get swallowed by the mushrooms and bacon. Interesting, and solid value from $12-15.

The Whites of Their Eye-talians

"Wine Guy," I was asked recently, "You've been writing a fair bit about Italian reds...what about the whites?"

Fair question. I know I've snagged a couple of them here and there as I've gone through the world of wine, but I haven't really focused much on them. Most of what I know about Italian whites can be summed up as follows: "Italian white. Pinot grigio. Light. Dry. Tart." End of line.

I've walked past the Italian white section in wine stores again and again. I see row after row of pinot grigio, as well as "Soave" and a number of grapes ending in vowels. There's also the the Italian naming convention, by which the wines are named after the region in which they're grown -- and you've got a pretty confusing slate for a beginner to digest. There are literally hundreds of indiginous grapes in Italy, and almost all of them have ended up as white wine at one point or another.

The wine gurus haven't been much help, either. Looking to two of my go-to sources for information, Andrea Immer Robinson writes in Great Wine Made Simple, "The Italians...just do not care about white wine. Not that plenty of it isn't made, but much is for export and for cheap, refreshing drinking...The rest is meant to employ gallons of mediocre-quality juice from vineyards whose output used to go into Italy's famous reds (to their detriment) before the recent quality evolution." (p.210)

Kevin Zraly's Complete Wine Course puts it more succinctly: "The Italians traditionally do not put the same effort into making their white wines as they do their reds -- and they are the first to admit it." (p.143)

Thankfully, as Dear Andrea mentioned, the revolution in wine-producing techniques made it to Italy, just as it has given us distinct bottles of yumminess from all over the world. While Italian wines are still generally light, crisp sipping wines, a wine shopper now has a little more variety from which to choose. The main thing to remember is the basic law of Italian wine -- What's for dinner? That'll give you a pretty good idea of what to expect, taste-wise, since the wine's made to go with the food. Let's have a look at three of the major growing areas...

Anselmi 2006 "San Vincenzo" Veneto – Veneto, the northeastern Italian region home to Venice, Vivaldi, and Roberto Baggio, is best known in the wine world for Valpolicella (a light, fruity red) and Amarone (a tarry, tannic monster). The best known white grape from there is Garganega, the backbone of soave, an unoaked, uncomplicated wine. This wine is a close cousin. The Anselmi is 80% Garganega, 15% Chardonnay, and 5% Trebbiano. It has a clean nose of peaches and grapefruit. The body is medium-to-rich with an interesting mix of acidity and sweetness on the finish. On it’s own, a very enjoyable wine. However, with a pungent fish dish, this wine shines even more. Sardines and shellfish are common in Venetian cooking, and we had this wine with an anchovy-sauced & breadcrumbed pasta. The wine cut through the fish's oil, enhancing the flavors before cutting through it into a nice, fruity mellow finish. A great pairing. $7-10.

Batasiolo 2006 Gavi – I talked about Piedmont a couple of installments ago. Piedmont is home to some of the more powerful wines in Italy, so I wasn’t sure what to expect from the whites. Gavi is largely made from the Cortese grape, indigenous to the region. Considering the foods of the region – cheeses, ham, root vegetables, and mushrooms, I figured the wines would either be acidic like a pinot grigio or in the Riesling neighborhood. The verdict? Somewhere in the middle. The Gavi had a light, citrusy, grapefruity nose. It was medium boded with flavors of lemon and vanilla. It sported a crisp, tart finish. I found it to be more along the lines of a sauvignon-blanc. Very refreshing and more complex than the Veneto. Unfortunately, I didn’t cook anything up to go along with it. I had it with the leftovers of the aforementioned anchovy pasta. It had enough acidity to cut through the fish, but the tartness of the wine stood out more. It would be a very solid pairing with anything that you’d have with a sauvignon blanc. $12-14.

Fontana Candida 2006 Orvieto Classico – Orvieto is in Umbria, an inland province sitting just next to Tuscany. Umbrian cuisine tends to be boiled or roasted, with vegetables and game strongly represented. Lentils are a staple of the diet there. It has a light, flowery nose with just a little bit of citrus. The flavors and acidity are similar to a pinot grigio, but with a little more body, so it's a bit bolder at first taste. This makes sense, since a light pinot grigio would likely get buried by the heavier nature of the food. The finish is still tart and crisp. A nice alternative if you want a white wine with something a little heavier. I did a throw-together salad of creole boiled shrimp, pineapple, shallots and red pepper with cider vinegar, fish sauce, and some spices (Yes, I was cleaning out the kitchen…) It worked well – although I shouldn’t have initially put it over greens. $9-11.

On a personal note -- many thanks to John & Jean Rosenberg. On this date in 1970, the three of us responded to a request from my grandfather. He let my folks know after Passover the night before that he "did not plan to go back to North Carolina without seeing his grandson."

At 6:40 am, we obliged.

Fly Piedmont -- The Up-and-Coming Region

Pop Quiz, hotshots.

Question: "Piedmont" refers to…

a) A regional airline, formerly hubbed at Washington's National Airport.

b) An geographical region of North Carolina which includes Greensboro, Winston-Salem, High Point, and Burlington.

c) An Italian region where some of the most expensive wine in the world is made.

d) All of the above.

The answer is, of course, "d" -- although "a" brings back memories. My family used to fly Piedmont all the time while I was growing up. Piedmont was absorbed by USAirways in the early 90's, so it's but a memory now. Answer "c" is very much a reality, and is our next stop.

The Piedmont is considered most of northwestern Italy. Nestled against the Alps, the Piedmont is just a hop (a pretty high hop!) away from southeastern France. Piedmont translates very accurately as "the foot of the mountain." While Tuscany is the "scenic beauty" section of Italy, Piedmont is one of the world's geographic centers for gustatory decadence. Piedmont is the crossroads of French provincial cooking and southern Italian pastas and sauces. The result? Hearty meat and poultry dishes, pastas, fresh herbs, eggs, butter, cream, and food coma.

From a viticultural (WineSpeak for "wine producing") perspective, the Piedmont's wines are quite a change from what you'll experience in Italian regions like Tuscany in the south or Veneto in the northeast. As I've said before, the best way to understand the style of European wines is to look at the food from that area. Decadent food requires decadent wine, and you'll find them in spades in this region.

The Piedmont's best known wines are made from the nebbiolo grape. Nebbiolo is the backbone of both Barolo and Barbaresco. These are the Piedmont towns which lend their names to the growing regions of each wine. Barolo and Barbaresco are some of the most expensive wines in the world -- matched in price only by some of the higher-end red Bordeaux. If you'd like to try one of these, be ready to shell out 60-80 bucks, minimum. The first time I tried a Barolo, I didn't appreciate it. They're very big, complex wines which are built to age for decades. They're also nearly impossible for a relatively novice wine drinker to get a sense of. Luckily, there are alternatives.

There are two other major grape varietals grown in the Piedmont: Barbera and Dolcetto. For centuries, these were used to make relatively inexpensive table wine. They were fermented quickly and bottled to drink young. Why? Because Nebbiolo is a finicky grape. It only grows in a few choice locations, largely on the ridges of hills and it ripens late. The rest of the hilly vineyards are planted with Barbera and Dolcetto, usually. The growers get the Barbera and Dolcetto off the vines early, get it into the barrels to ferment, and as soon as the Nebbiolo is ready, they empty the vats, bottle the cheap stuff, and barrel up the moneymaker.

As with most places around the world -- as winemaking techniques improved, Italian vintners have started producing higher end Barbera and Dolcetto instead of just using them for table wine. Piedmont Airlines' old slogan was "The Up-and-Coming Airline." The Piedmont region could also use that slogan with the increased quality. These wines are wonderful food wines and cost a fraction of Barolo & Barbaresco. Here are a couple of examples:

Michele Chiarlo 2004 Barbera d'Asti -- People see "Asti" and usually follow it in their minds with "Spumante." Asti, however, refers to the Italian town where both the sweet sparkling dessert wine and Barbera are made. The Barbera grape, as a rule, produces a medium-bodied, fruity wine. Barbera is an all around flexible, tasty wine. This one has currants and cherries on the nose. It actually is a little thin tasting at first as it's initially quite dry, but fattens up a bit rather quickly with some nice cherry flavors. The finish is acidic and not at all sweet. Instead, you'll get balanced tannins and some oak. Barbera is a wonderful wine for anything tomato-based, especially if you're going to have meat in there as well. Italian sausage on pasta with red sauce and a Barbera is excellent. The best pairing I've ever had with Barbera, though? Pepperoni pizza. Mindblowing. $12-14.

Mauro Molino 2005 Dolcetto d'Alba -- People see "Alba" and usually precede it in their minds (or at least many of my male and some of my female readers do) with "Jessica." Ms. Alba, however, is a Danish/Mexican blend, not Italian like the Dolcetto here. Dolcetto is a the lightest major red of the Piedmont. Translated from Italian, "Dolcetto" means "little sweet one," although the wine is basically dry. Light, fruity, and slightly oaky, this Dolcetto smells and drinks like an Italian version of Beaujolais cru. You'll find it a little oakier than a Beaujolais and a little more firm on the palate. It's got a nice acidity that makes it also very food friendly, especially with foods a bit lighter than the Barbera. We had this wine with an Italian tuna and butterbean salad. Scrumptious. $10-13.

Fontanafredde Langhe Eremo 2004 Barbera e Nebbiolo -- An interesting blend. Most wines from the Piedmont that I've seen are largely single-grape wines. I got the sense that nebbiolo, being the pricy grape, isn't blended very often. When I saw this one, I wanted to give it a go. You get a quick smack of fruit-forward from the Barbera, and then the wine settles into the tannins and length that Nebbiolo is known for. However, Nebbiolo is one of those grapes that really does need time in the bottle to come to full flavor. Blended with Barbera, you get a little bit of the complexity, but at a mere four years old, the "Nebbiolo-ness" doesn't really jump at you. It's a much better wine for simply drinking or having with a red sauced pasta. If you wanted to cellar this one for a few more years, it might get really interesting. For now -- you're better off with the Dolcetto or Barbera. Or you could save up and splurge on a real Nebbiolo-based wine bottles from the turn of the century. $13-15.

Back to the Boot

I'm still getting the hang of Italian wines.

When "in the know" wine folks talk about the "finest wines in the world," the debate generally centers on Italy and France. Wine connoisseurs talk about Italian wines' unmatched complexity, the wonders of aging for decades, the depth of flavor, the sheer artistry that is the ancient craft of winemaking in Italy.

The first time I tasted Barolo, the Italian "wine of kings," I nearly choked. THIS is supposed to be the best wine in the world?" Granted, I've come a long way. As time's gone by, I've worked on my learning curve of appreciation for the -- shall we say -- interesting flavors of Italian and French wine.

Also, like many people, I usually considered Chianti (as I did at the Vine's early roots) when ordering or making Italian. Of course, there's a lot more to Italian food than the familiar Tuscan recipes we often see, so don't paint yourself into a corner -- all due respect to Chianti, of course.

When the SPinC and I did our first Italian wine and food pairing cookfest, we discovered many Italian wines are either very affordable or very expensive -- there's not a lot in between. Finding wines that are decent, drinkable, and affordable is a challenge. In the $10-15 range, there's surprisingly little. You've got your very inexpensive wines, and then you've got your garden variety Barolo, which will run you $50 or more. (Although I found a very decent Barolo at Trader Joe's for $25 that was divine with a roasted lamb steak.) Research is necessary.

When I think about buying Italian wine, I keep a few simple things in mind:

1) Italians are foodies. They have been for millennia. They're also fiercely territorial. If you ever get into a food conversation with just about anyone of Italian heritage, they'll tell you the food on "Nonna's table" was REAL Italian. As I've mentioned before, people make wines that go with whatever they happen to be cooking -- so if you know the menu, choose accordingly. Italian wines, like French wines, are generally named for the place they're made, so let that be your guide.

2) Just as Italians made wine to complement the food they were making at the time, they also made their wine to go best with food. I have yet to run into many Italian wines that I would have as a "drink at the end of the day" wine. Put them with the right food, and squisto!

3) Decant, decant, decant. Italian wine is built to age, so when you open it, you need to let it wake from its slumber. A good rule of thumb for the wines we'll be looking at is to crack the bottle 20-30 minutes before you pour.

Here are a few alternatives:

Ruffino 2005 Orvieto Classico ($7-10) -- Orvieto is in Umbria, one of Tuscany's neighboring provinces. Umbria is entirely landlocked, about in the "calf" of the boot. Foodwise, Umbria is known for pork products like salami and prosciutto, lots of vegetables, and earthy additions like mushrooms and truffles. The city of Orvieto is known largely for its white wine. One of the first wine books I really looked at was by Kevin Zraly. He said, "The Italians traditionally do not put the same effort into making their white wines that they do with their reds…and they are the first to admit it." But there's money in the global white wine market continues to globalize, and the Italians are taking advantage.

The Ruffino has a nice nose -- light and floral with a scent of honey. It's fruity, slightly citrusy, but not incredibly dry -- in the ballpark of a rich Sauvignon Blanc. It had a refreshing finish with a little citrus tang and smooth flavors of melon. Like Sauvignon Blanc, this would be a very food friendly wine. Foodwise, think about light pork or rich chicken dishes, meaty fishes, or even salads. The acidity in this wine would be able to stand up to things like asparagus.

Pala Triente 2004 Cannonau Di Sardegna ($11-13) -- That's "Sardinia" to we barbarians. I've heard a lot of people confuse Sardinia and Sicily. Sicily is the island perpetually getting booted. Sardinia is the island halfway up the boot off the Eastern coast. While the cuisine of Sardegna is steeped in fish, much of it is hearty and savory, both with meat (roast boar on a spit is a national tradition) and vegetables (stews and soups with earthy vegetables and beans).

This wine is largely (95%) made from the Cannonau grape, known to the rest of the world as Grenache -- the other 5% is other native varietals. Interesting to note -- this is a macerated wine. Maceration is the same process the French use to make Beaujolais. The result is a very interesting red. When poured, it's extremely light and the nose is very fragrant. It reminds me of a Beaujolais cru. The flavor is very Italian -- earthy, with berries calling for food. The finish then turns a little bit dry. We had this with a spicy chicken chili. You could certainly have it with a red sauced pasta, aged cheese, or fish in a nice sauce.

Michele Chiarlo 2004 Barbera D'Asti ($12-14) -- First off, the "Asti" does not refer to sweet champagne here. It's a town in the Piedmont province in northernmost Italy nestled against the Alps (Piedmont translates as "the foot of the mountains"). The Piedmont produces much of the very expensive wine I mentioned earlier. The nebbiolo grape is used to make Barolo and Barbaresco, the most prized wines of Italy. Fortunately, some of the "lesser" wines are more than adequate. Piedmont cooking is very earthy. Truffles are a major export of the area. Lots of cream, butter, garlic, and cheese find their way into the meals. Olives and rice are also produced in quantity.

I find the Barbera produces a wine like a fruity, amped Cotes-du-Rhone. There's a nice nose on this wine. It's a slightly alcoholic, very fruity, floral experience. The flavor is full of bright fruit -- like a cross between Beaujolais and a Cotes-du-Rhone. The finish is easy and fruity -- cherries and blackberries. We tried this with a pasta with an olive tapenade and seared tuna -- it was wonderful, just as it was with some chocolate covered dried fruit we had. Pair it with just about anything that includes some of the above ingredients and you'll be just fine. Also, like Beaujolais or Cotes-du-Rhone, you could drink it on its own.

Until next time…buon' appetito!