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Location, location, location. This old saw applies not only to real estate, but to viticulture as well, and northern Italy’s Lugana region is a powerful testament to it too. The Lugana appellation has one foot in Lombardia and the other in Veneto with one of Italy’s largest lakes – Lago di Garda – splitting the two halves, and it’s the key to Lugana’s very existence.

If there ever was a microclimate in terms of wine, this is it. Lugana rests in an absolutely breathtakingly beautiful spot, literally in the shadow of the Alps, and indeed this perch shields Lugana from the frigid mountain winds, but nights can still turn very chilly nonetheless. Further, due to the temperature-moderating effects of this very large lake, as well as the tremendous amount of solar energy the water reflects back onto the vineyards, this spot, which without all of these factors would be far too cold for vine growing, actually becomes not only a perfect spot for viticulture, but even warm enough to support olive groves – by far the most northerly in Italy.

Lugana is a white wine (though it’s warm enough to raise red vines here too, as is done in the neighboring Garda appellation) made from a grape by the name of Trebbiano di Lugana. Unfortunately, the grape name “Trebbiano” is one of the most confusing in Italian viticulture. There are literally a dozen or more different “Trebbianos”, some of which are fairly neutral strains related to the grape the French call Ugni Blanc, others of which are located in Abruzzo (Trebbiano di Abruzzo) which are more properly called Bombino Bianco, as well as a third branch of the name to which Trebbiano di Lugana as well as Trebbiano di Soave (from the appellation of the same name) belong, which it turns out are two sub-varieties of Marche’s noble Verdicchio variety.

So the upshot of all of these unique factors that form a nexus in Lugana is nothing short of a truly unique white wine. This a wine with an incomparably bright but elegant acidity that is balanced by a rich and structured body as balast, and a pungent yet still delicate aromatic expressiveness that is second to no wine  - in Italy or anywhere else for that matter…Location, location, location.

I paired this wonderful white with a chilled, pureed cream of cucumber and mint soup, and then a main course of eggs poached in a nest of  shredded Brussels sprouts, ham, the local Piave cheese, garlic, onions, and white wine.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ca’ Lojera Lugana 2012

Very pale “white gold” color. Striking and vivid aromas of green apple, kiwi, sweet grapefruit, tarragon, boiled peanuts, acacia blossoms, powdered ginger, and wet stones. The medium-full body is clean, round and quite unctuous, but beautifully balanced by a bright and lively acidity with clear flavors of lime, white currant juice, white peach, almond milk, and a touch of white pepper. Very long, fresh and salty finish.

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The beautifully green and conical, ex-volcanic hills north and east of the city of Verona in the region of Veneto is home to some of the most renowned names in Italian wine: like Soave, Amarone, and Valpolicella; but as much as I love a good Garganega-based white like Soave, tonight’s post is all about red wine. And of all of the great and not so great wines that come from this area (unfortunately, too many producers in this region have been seduced by the quantity over quality trap) Amarone is undoubtedly the market king, and it’s not hard to see why.

Amarone (whose full name is actually Amarone della Valpolicella), like all Valpolicella wines, is typically made from the grape triumverate of Corvina, Rondinella, and Molinara, with the possibility of adding at least another handful of local varieties to the mix. Amarone’s wild popularity hinges on its sweet, powerful character that is derived from the process by which it is made. Know it or not, Amarone is made from partially dried fruit. After harvest in the Fall, the fruit that will become Amarone is placed onto straw mats called graticci, and stored on multi-layered racks in well ventilated barns until the Spring, over which time the fruit dessicates losing approximately 40% of its water weight. After the drying process, the berry’s sugars and pigments are concentrated which ultimately yields wines with high alcohol, deep color and a slightly sweet character; in other words, wines that are real crowd pleasers.

Straight Valpolicella wines are made from the same stable of grape varieties minus the drying process like any other red wine is produced. And then there is the Valpolicella wine called Ripasso which essentially splits the difference between Amarone and straight Valpolicella, and that’s what we’re talking about tonight. Here’s how it works…A producer will make a regular Valpolicella, and leave it to rest until the drying process and vinification of his or her Amarone is also complete. Before bottling the Amarone, the dried skins are filtered out of it, and are then introduced into the regular Valpolicella for a time which induces a second fermentation that enriches both the color and the alcohol levels of this new ripasso wine, which as you might infer, gets its name from this process of “re-passing” these Amarone squeezings through basic Valpolicella.

As I allude to in the title of this post, Valpolicalla Ripasso, at its best, incorporates the fresh, fruity, and balanced character of regular Valpo with the rich, powerful, dried fruit “sweetness” of Amarone, which ultimately makes for a warm, and totally unique style of wine. And this particular wine represents ripasso at its best, for sure.

Because of the extra oomph that the ripasso process imparts, these wines pair very well with intensely flavored dishes, so with that in mind, I made crostini spread with a mousse of mortadella and red pepper paste, followed by a northern Italian style pollo alla cacciatore with sage, rosemary, a bit of tomato paste, red wine, and porcini mushrooms with some roasted Jersey asparagus (the season was pushed back a few weeks due to our chilly early Spring weather) to go along with it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ca’ del Monte Valpolicella Classico Superiore Ripasso 2007

Brownish, deep ruby/magenta color. Very intense, complex and elegant nose of currant raisins, dried cranberries, plums, cloves and cinnamon spice, dried flowers, damp earth, walnut butter, and menthol. The decidedly full body is deep, rich, and round with gently dry and smooth tannins, and a juicy acidity that provides an overall great balance that lays out a platform for deep and clean flavors of chocolate covered cherries and blueberry compote. Very long and warm blackberry finish. A wine of great drinkability and “typicity”.

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Though Umbria has lots of things that are all its own – unique strains of black truffles, exemplary salamis and sausages, an incomparable sweet, green landscape, and St. Francis of Assisi to name just a few, but fair or not, Umbria always seems to be seen as Tuscany’s little brother. Umbria has Perugia, but Tuscany has Florence, Tuscany has a long, beautiful sea coast, but Umbria has just Lago di Trasimeno, a medium-sized lake, albeit a beautiful one.

And so it is with wine. Tuscany boasts world-famous names like Chianti Classico, Brunello di Montalcino, and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, all of whose principal or sole grape variety is Tuscany’s signature vine, Sangiovese.  But not surprisingly, Umbria grows lots of Sangiovese too, but far fewer wine drinkers seem to know this, or have access to this beautiful region’s wines.

But then there’s Umbria’s small revenge, and it goes by the name of Montefalco. Montefalco is the name of beautiful hill town in the southern half of Umbria that is home to a noble and unique grape variety called Sagrantino that grows nowhere else in the world. As the name suggests, this variety was long used to make sweetish church (think “sacred”) wine, but experiments to vinify it dry that began in the 1960s went so well that by the mid-198os, Umbria had all for itself, a deep, powerful, complex and very long-lived  wine that even Tuscany couldn’t take from them.

The D.O.C.G.of Sagrantino di Montefalco must be composed of no less than 100% of said grape, but its more affable, D.O.C.-classified vineyard-mate Montefalco Rosso is Umbria’s answer to the celebrated Tuscan appellations named above because its composition is relatively similar: 60%-70% Sangiovese, 10%-15% Sagrantino, with remainder typically made up of Montepulciano and/or Merlot (this particular one omits the Merlot). And because of this area’s denser soils,  usually warmer temperatures, and the substantially different grape varieties supporting the Sangiovese, Montefalco Rosso offers Umbria a unique push-back against the  weight of its renowned oenological juggernaut of a neighbor. And it’s one hell of a push too…

I matched this strapping red with a first course of orecchiette pasta with tomatoes, red pepper flakes, black-eyed peas, oregano and bay, followed by a main course of thick-cut, bone-in pork chops browned and then braised in Marsala with onions, black olives, sage and rosemary, with a side of black kale (a.k.a. lacinto) sauteed in really good olive oil and lots of garlic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Napolini Montefalco Rosso 2009 

Slightly cloudy, brownish medium garnet color. Earthy nose of black cherry and prune fruit aromas with powerful notes of coal smoke, vanilla bean, sandalwood, juniper berries, toasted brown spices, and violet-scented powder. The full body is muscular and rustic with tall, stiff, dry tannins, and a sharp, cleansing acidity, with complex and intense flavors of black raspberry, black currants, blueberry, unsweetened coffee, and hazelnut butter. Moderately long very warm finish.

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Though officially included under the French geographic rubric “The Southwest”, the Marcillac appellation is actually pretty far removed from the other southwestern French wine regions under which it is always included. The Marcillac region sits at the southern feet of the large knot of mountains and extinct volcanoes called the Massif Central, that includes some peaks that rise well over 4,500 feet above sea level. And though none of the vineyards within Marcillac’s perimeter are situated at those altitudes, many of them are found between 1,500 and 2,000 feet above sea level. These fairly high altitudes coupled with this region’s distance from the sea make Marcillac a pretty tough place to practice viticulture for sure.

So it should come as no surprise that in a place as harsh and unforgiving as Marcillac that the region’s signature grape variety (and its only one for the most part) is one tough little vine indeed, and so it is, and it goes by the peculiar name of Fer Servadou (as well as Mansois, but Fer Servadou is the more common moniker). As you might infer from the first word in the name – “Fer” –  which is French for “iron”, this is a variety that has become over the centuries, very well adapted to its  rocky and often gray-skied home. And this name is not just a nickname to characterize Fer’s hardiness because this descriptor actually directly refers to the vine’s extremely hard, woody trunks that have evolved over the centuries to deftly resist the trials presented to it by this often frigid, stony landscape.

And in far-flung regions like Marcillac what is never-ending trouble for the local vignerons is good for the wine consumer. Assiduous, year-round care must be given to the vines to assure that there is good quality fruit to harvest, so the region is full of old-vine vineyards that man and nature has selected over the centuries to carry the banner for the proud Marcillac legacy. And despite all the work required to farm in this parsimonious plot, in the end the market doesn’t give a fig – Marcillac’s obscurity does not allow grower’s to ask Bordeaux or Burgundy prices – not even close. Enter this evening’s cuvee`: an old vine (vieilles vignes) bottling made from 50 to 80 year-old plants that shows gobs of austere country elegance for far fewer bank notes than most other French can even think about matching.

In a departure from the usual regional wine and food pairing regimen I usually employ, since Marcillac wines pair so well with rich, hearty, earthy dishes in general, and lamb in particular, I served up a classic Turkish menu: leeks, carrots, and rice stewed in olive oil and lemon juice to start, and then lamb adana kebabs served over a bed of butter-toasted pide bread cubes with grilled spicy green peppers and two sauces – yogurt/garlic/cilantro/mint and simple tomato.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Domaine du Cros Marcillac Vieilles Vignes 2008

Barely transparent, purplish garnet color. Evocative, countrified nose of fresh wild blackberries, cranberry, and intense dried fruit, supported by powerful aromas of burnt caramel, wood smoke, fine black coffee, dry earth, sap, violets, and roasted walnuts. The medium-weight body nevertheless displays a very firm, peppery tannic structure and a prickly rustic acidity that frames muscular flavors of sour cherry, grilled plums, black olives, bittersweet chocolate, and grated cinnamon. Big, austerely dry finish.

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For the winos that are familiar with the semi-obscure Teroldego grape, they may have it associated in their juice-soaked memories with a second name – “Rotaliano” – or they might not. So here’s the story…

Teroldego (pronounced teh-ROLL-deh-go, by the way) is a red grape variety that is native to, and pretty much exclusively grown in the marchlands between Italy and Austria in the shadow of the Dolomite mountain range. This is a grape variety that, in the wake of all the research into the health benefits of wine, has been written about in wine and pop-medical columns alike as the grape with highest amount of anthocyanins of any known wine grape, which are the compounds that comprise most of the colorants in red wine, but more importantly, these are also the elements that have been found to have powerful anti-carcinogenic as well as heart-healthy properties.

Traditionally, until the press got hold of this research, Teroldego was a decidedly local variety produced almost exclusively on a high altitude plain called – yes – Rotaliano. But, this unique Alpine terroir is not very big at all, and it didn’t take long for this little patch of earth to max out its production capacities in the wake of all of the positive press that it got. At first, as might be expected, prices for the D.O.C. Teroldego Rotaliano rose – often sharply – and then the supplies began to dry up altogether…Enter the Vigneti delle Dolomiti I.G.T. (et al.).

Because the I.G.T. (Indicazione Geografica Tipica) designation always allows for higher yields of fruit across the same number of square hectares in comparison to D.O.C. and D.O.C.G. appellations, as well as the fact that in most cases, and in this case to be sure, that I.G.T.s typically encompass larger geographical swaths of land than the Teroldego Rotaliano D.O.C. ever could, less restrictive zones like Vigneti delle Dolomiti were poised to take up the slack. And despite the supposed simpler nature of I.G.T. wines, there are only a few Rotaliano-sourced wines that can best this one. Plain and simple.

Dinner to match this very sexy red began with a thick orzo, vegetable, and prosciutto soup, followed by thin beef steaks dry marinated with sage, rosemary, and parsley, dusted with flour and then pan-fried with a side dish of red cabbage with onions braised in red wine to go along with them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Azienda Agricola Moser Teroldego Vigneti delle Dolomiti I.G.T. 2011

Deep, bright magenta/garnet color. Elegant nose of black cherry and black currant fruit, with clear notes of ground cloves, dried rose petals, toasted nuts, cocoa powder, woody herbs, and vanilla bean. The wine enters the mouth with a smooth, polished, and velvety texture revealing a medium-full weight, soft tannins and a characteristic spunky acidity that contrasts with sweet, supple, and rich flavors of blackberry, plum butter, tomato paste, and nori seaweed. Clean and softly bitter/tart finish.

 

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Though over the last 15 years or so they’ve begun to spring up like mushrooms after a fall rain, there is precious little tradition for rose` wine in Italy, especially coming from one of the country’s red wine capitals Piedmont, and made from the region’s king of grapes Nebbiolo, no less. Why this is I don’t know, but so it is.

When people think pink wine, they typically think sun-soaked seaside fish restaurants in Provence or Catalunya and so they should because this is where many if not most of the best rose` wines hail from…or did, until wines like this one from Italy’s Alpine hills began to enter the scene. A challenge coming from an unlikely place indeed.

The region of Piedmont from whence this wine comes is pretty far both geographically as well as characteristically from the wines from the briny shores of the Mediterranean too. The Colline Novaresi region, as the name implies, lies in the hills north of the city of Novara in northern Piedmont, just a few hops from the Swiss border. And though the Langhe region further south contains the superstar Nebbiolo appellations of Barolo and Barbaresco, these northern reaches of Piedmont actually play host to many more appellations – Gattinara, Ghemme, Boca, Fara, Lessona, Sizzano – in which Nebbiolo has just as long and great a tradition as their far more famous southern neighbors, and I’d argue that they’re wines that are by tradition more terroir-driven and more expressive and drinkable than the two “Big B’s” especially if price is a factor. These are wines that still retain most of Nebbiolo’s sinewy power that are associated with Barolo and Barbaresco, but are far more delicate, fragrant, and feminine than any Barolo or Barbaresco I’ve ever run across.

And even in Nebbiolo’s less-than-red form which this evening’s wine embodies, all of the characteristics of Novarese reds hold firmly true. At 13.5% alcohol this wine is no lightweight, but even without all of the pigmentation of its red-tinted cousins, it possesses a body sufficient to carry this volume of alcohol. But that said, all this pinkness beautifully frees up Nebbiolo’s unique and beautifully ethereal aromatics, making it far more versatile and charming dinner partner than any red Nebbiolo to boot…pretty pink Italian boots if you will…

I brought this rocking rose`to the table with plates of penne rigate dressed with a mushroom and leek cream sauce to start, and then a pan of eggs poached in a sauce of tomatoes, spinach, onions, and red pepper flakes for the main course.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Antichi Vigneti di Cantalupo Nebbiolo Colline Novaresi Rosato “Il Mimo” 2012

Medium rosy pink color. Enveloping nose of strawberry jam, watermelon juice, mixed sweet spices, wet stones, toasted hazelnut, dried flowers, creme caramel, and iodine. The body is quite big and unctuous while still retaining a crisp acidity and even a lightly tannic spine that runs through vivacious cherry, light blackberry and citrus fruit flavors, with notes of fresh herbs, chalk, and rose water underlying. Long pleasantly bitterish finish.

 

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First things first. There are two oenological “Montepulcianos” – one is Vino Nobile di Montepulciano in which the name Montepulciano denotes a town in southern Tuscany which is the source of a wine that is Chianti’s closest relative. Its predominate grape is Sangiovese. Then there’s Montepulciano (d’Abruzzo). In this case Montepulciano is the name of a grape variety, and the “d’Abruzzo” part is a geographical reference to the central Italian region of the same name. Onward…

All too often, the Montepulciano grape is not given its due, and unfortunately, too much of that is attributable to a combination of the market, a large subset of the producers in Abruzzo, and the nature of the grape itself. The Montepulciano variety is deep, easy-going, but still very characterful, and if properly handled it can make very good if not great wine. HOWEVER, the ease with which Montepulciano can be grown in combination with the market’s insatiable desire for quaffable jug wine leads too many producers in Abruzzo to take the easy and profitable road to make the conscious decision to make wine that is just “good enough”. That said, there are some very fine producers in Abruzzo that make world-class wine from the variety. Would that there were more…

Well, in the Marche region just to the north of Abruzzo, the Montepulciano vine also covers lots of square hectares of earth, but because none of its appellations’ names include the word “Montepulciano”, growing regions like Rosso Conero (pronounced ROH-so COH-ner-oh) which is typically made from 100% Montepulciano, can’t capitalize on the fame of grape’s name, but it also is not limited by its somewhat middling reputation either, so if you generally like what Montepulciano is selling, and you know that Rosso Conero is made from this grape (and if you didn’t before, you do now), all things being equal, you’re far more likely to pull the cork on a higher quality bottle of wine than if the label had the name Abruzzo somewhere on the label.

The word “Conero” in this wine’s name refers to the appellation’s proximity to Marche’s coastal city of Ancona. As you likely have already noticed, I typically pair the wines I write about with dishes from the same region. Tonight, this tendency applies in spades with my choice to whip up a skillet of baccala` all’ anconetana (Ancona-style salt cod stewed with veggies, tomatoes, potatoes, herbs, milk(!) and wine) for the main course, and a first course of a traditional Marchigiano soup of rice, spinach, and prosciutto dressed with grated pecorino cheese and olive oil just before serving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Villa Malacari Rosso Conero 2008

Saturated blackish purple color. Big and expressive nose of wood-smokey black cherry and dried cranberry fruit wonderfully supported by clear notes of melted dark chocolate, black licorice, damp earth, dried herbs, gingerbread, motor oil, and lilac powder. In the mouth the wine is full-bodied with a chewy texture, smooth tannins, and a great balance overall that effortlessly reveals sweet and sour black raspberry and currant fruit and notes of espresso coffee and new leather. Long, rustically elegant finish. A really nice example of Montepulciano.

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It’s a secret to almost no one that drinks wine that Italy produces lakes of Pinot Grigio, traditionally out of the northeastern regions of Veneto, Trentino Alto Adige, and Friuli Venezia Giulia. But more recently, due to the market’s nearly insatiable thirst for the stuff, Pinot Grigio vines can now be found growing in vineyards in nearly every region of the Bel Paese. And though Italy has been in my estimation the European country that has been the most receptive to foreign (read “mostly French”) vine varieties like Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Syrah, Alsace’s Pinot Gris (or most correctly Burgundy’s Pinot Beurot, but that’s a whole other post) is by far the most ubiquitous of the lot.

The second word in the name Pinot Gris or Pinot Grigio means “grey” in French and Italian respectively, and this refers to the fact that the skin of this variety has a distinctly dusty pale reddish color, which always comes as a surprise to drinkers who know Pinot Grigio as nothing other than a strictly white wine. Another little known fact is that with just a few exceptions ALL grapes, whether they have the deepest purple skins or the palest whitish green ones, have “white” juice, meaning that white wine can be made from even deeply pigmented varieties like Corvina or Merlot or Tempranillo, provided that their skins are separated immediately from their juice.

So what we’ve got here this evening is a light pink Pinot Grigio from Emilia-Romagna’s Colli Piacentini appellation whose color is the result of just a few handfuls of hours of juice/skin contact…but that’s not all. In addition to this Pinot Grigio being pink, it’s also vivaciously sparkling! This grape performs so successfully as both a rose`and a spritzy wine, it’s nearly shocking that more producers don’t take one or both of these options more often…Strange indeed, but until then, take some time to find a couple of these rare examples, and enjoy what I think is the best this variety has to offer.

I served this spunky but still very elegant wine with a traditional Italian rice salad studded with celery, yellow peppers, tuna, hard-boiled eggs, olives, capers, parsley, lemon juice, mayo, etc. and then herbed, fried chicken cutlets with a side of piquant and slightly spicy Borlotti beans.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lusenti Colli Piacentini Pinot Grigio “Fiocco di Rose” 2011

Very pale, slightly coppery salmon color. Pretty nose of strawberry, raspberry jam, grapefruit, light spice, cracker, ground pinoli nuts, and dried lilac.Very fine and intense bubbles permeate a solid, freshly acidic, and  minerally frame that pops with flavors of peach skin, melon, and hints of blackberry with underlying notes of boiled peanuts. Long and very fresh pleasantly bitterish finish.

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Like Tuscany, Piedmont is predominantly a red wine region. Piedmont is almost a nation unto itself with regard to red grape varieties, with household names like Nebbiolo, Barbera, Dolcetto, all the way down to the ultra-obscure vines like Avana`, Avarengo, and  Doux d’Henry and everything in between. Piedmont is undoubtedly a treasure trove of great red wine grapes that grow nowhere else. Not so with with white grapes.

Piedmont’s most famous white grape, Cortese, is far less famous than the appellation that makes the most use of it, Gavi. There’s also Favorita, which is simply another name for Vermentino which was likely brought to Piedmont from Liguria, and northern Piedmont’s Erbaluce, and not a great deal more, save this evening’s subject, Arneis (ar-NEIGHSS).

By the mid-1960s, the Roero region’s Arneis was nearly extinct. And it should come with little surprise that this was the case when one learns that that the word “arneis” in Piedmontese dialect roughly means “little difficult one” which is a reflection of the high level of trouble the vine gives the grower in the vineyard and the cellar alike. Its yields are low, it’s susceptible to all manner of diseases, and has difficulties with fertility which means in some years it produces almost no fruit at all. And if all this weren’t enough, the grape’s juice (must as it’s known in the business) is naturally quite acid-shy, which means it is prone to making somewhat flat and flabby wines.

All that said, round about the same time, a few growers, despite all of these issues with the grape, still believed that Arneis could make really good wine, began a program to better understand the vine in an effort to prove their point and save the vine from oblivion. Over a couple of decades, and lots of painstaking hands-on research into all of the variety’s clones and preferences in terms of soil and climate, this brave and tenacious group of producers were able to overcome almost all of Arneis’s pecadillos to arrive at a truly viable clone and regimen of vineyard methods to make really good Arneis. Likewise in the cellar, innovative techniques were developed to boost Arnies’s acidity to make a more stylish and less rustic product. Tonight’s bottle is an example of all of the hard work of this proud handful of growers who championed this once nearly forgotten variety, and in my opinion, it’s one of the very best ones too…

As usual, I dished up a Piedmontese menu to match this oh-so-Piedmontese grape: fettuccine with a creamy walnut and garlic sauce, and a main course of grilled shrimp (which should have been crayfish, but alas none were at hand) in a roux-based sauce of aromatic veggies and herbs with lemon zest and white raisins, and a side of braised carrots.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Giovanni Almondo Roero Arneis 2012

Very pale “white gold” color. Clean and pretty nose of pear and apricot fruit with a hint of lime, followed by clear notes of powdered ginger, sweet herbs, hazelnut, minerals and pine needles. In the mouth the wine is medium-full with an unctuous but still quite crisp and fresh body with very elegant flavors of applesauce, baked quince, and subtle notes of fresh-sliced frying peppers. Long and nimble tonic water finish.

 

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Though this idea is surely anathema to any hardcore red Burgundy devotee`, in my humble opinion, sometimes pure Pinot Noir is a disappointment, and can often benefit from a little companionship. That happens in Burgundy only in the form of the almost afterthought-grade wine Passetoutgrain whose name literally translates as “all grapes included”, and figuratively sort of means “anything goes”.

In reality, when it comes to passetoutgrain, everything doesn’t go, but in the place where one of the world’s great grapes is elevated to its loftiest, any adulturation of Pinot Noir is considered to be nearly a scandal. Not so in the Loire. The two “brothers” about which I speak are of course Pinot Noir, and the oft-maligned, but still very Burgundian red grape variety, Gamay.

Let’s face it, Pinot Noir can be a real pain in the ass, if you’ll pardon my French. It’s notoriously difficult to grow, and all too often what amounts to really odd or even downright cruddy wine can be passed off as the oenological version of the emperor’s new clothes. Enter Gamay.

In the Eastern Loire’s Cheverny region these two Burgundian brothers have long mixed together with the most pleasing results, and a wine from this obscure appellation is just what we drank tonight. For me, Gamay has just the right combination of color, acidity and exuberant earthiness to make it a perfect foil for Pinot Noir’s tannic structure and ethereal fragrances. Let me be clear about this, Grand and Premier Cru Burgundies have no need for the much more humble Gamay, but let’s face it, not everybody’s got the scratch to buy these kinds of wines, or want to assemble the menu to match them. So in lieu of these top Burgs, the little brother Gamay can lend big brother a real helping hand.

The menu I put together to go with this fun but still serious wine was a hash of goat cheese and smoked salmon with chives and parsley smeared on toasts as a first course, and then a main course of a roasted pork tenderloin marinated in olive oil, orange juice and zest, garlic, tarragon, parsley, and rosemary, with steamed and buttered broccoli on the side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Le Clos de Tue-Boeuf Cheverny Rouge 2011

Slightly cloudy, pinkish ruby color. Big nose of mixed wild berries, dill pickle, toasted bread, spiced apple cider, dusty earth, lilac and violet. The palate is medium-light in body and quite elegant with a great acid/tannin balance and vivacious, round and “sweet” flavors of  strawberry, cherry, and fig fruit, and secondary notes of minerals and hot cocoa. Quite long and warm finish.