Ciliegiolo - Golfo di Tigullio, Liguria & Maremma, Tuscany, Italy

There are a lot of things at stake when paternity tests are given to humans, but it is virtually never the case that a genetic test is required to see which of a pair of individuals is the parent and which is the offspring.  The directional arrow of parent-offspring relationships are pretty easy to determine for animals because the age of one or both of the parties involved is usually pretty easy to determine.  The same is not  necessarily true for plants, though, and it is especially not true for grape varieties.  You might object that the situations aren't exactly the same, but I would contend that they're closer than you might think.

Let's take a moment to consider what an individual grape variety actually is.  Take Chardonnay, for example.  We happen to know that Chardonnay is the offspring of two other grapes called Pinot Noir and Gouais Blanc.  What that means is that pollen from a Pinot Noir plant was used to fertilize the flowers of a Gouais Blanc plant and when one of the resulting seeds was planted, a Chardonnay plant was the result.  But here's what we also know: when the same two parents got together on other occasions, the plants that grew were not Chardonnay, but were rather Aligoté, Auxerrois, Gamay Noir, Romorantin, and Melon, among many others.  All of these grapes are full siblings of one another, and if you think about the consequences of that fully you should see that what that really means is that each variety of grape is essentially like an individual person.  We can't get more Chardonnay plants by having its parents mate over and over again, so if we want to grow more Chardonnay vines, we have to clone the ones we have by planting cuttings.  By the same token, if we needed another one of you, we couldn't ask your parents to have another child but would rather have to clone you.

Now let's imagine a world where human cloning has been perfected and is not only allowed, but is the preferred method of creating new human beings.  Over time, there have been certain individuals who have particular qualities in certain combinations that makes them ideal human beings and these individuals are now our archetypes for the human race.  They are still capable of sexual reproduction, but this kind of reproduction is seen as a kind of genetic gamble that people are rarely willing to take so nearly all new human beings are clones of a series of archetypal individuals who were born as products of sexual reproduction several generations ago.  Let us further imagine that we are face to face with two of these clones who are ultimately descended from different individuals, one of whom was the father of the other, but we don't know which is the father and which is the son.  Neither of the individuals in front of us actively fathered the other, but one of the genetic lines is the ancestor of the other.  How could we tell which was the father and which was the offspring?

Obviously we can't just look at the two to see which is older since we're dealing with clonal lines and not direct lines of parentage and progeny.  You might be thinking that DNA analysis should be able to clear this up rather quickly, but it's a little trickier than that.  Offspring, both grape and human, get 1/2 of their DNA from their father and 1/2 from their mother.  If we were to analyze the DNA from each of the two individuals in front of us, we would be able to see that they share 1/2 of their DNA, but we wouldn't be able to tell which of them had passed that DNA to the other.  In order to determine which is the father and which is the son, we would need the genetic information from the mother as well.  Whichever of the two people in front of us also contained DNA from the mother would be the son and thus the descendant of the other.

All of which does, finally, bring us to today's grape, Ciliegiolo.  We know that Ciliegiolo has a parent-offspring relationship with Sangiovese, but the direction of that relationship is in some dispute.  Our story begins in 2007, when a paper was published which claimed to have uncovered the parentage of the Sangiovese grape.  José Vouillamoz (who some of you may remember from the Hondarrabi Zuri saga) and his team used a private database of microsatellite markers and 180 plant samples from various university germplasm collections in an attempt to discover Sangiovese's parent grapes.  To do this, they first checked to find grapes in their databases and samples that shared a lot of DNA with Sangiovese.  These grapes were hypothesized to be Sangiovese relatives, though the exact relationship at this point wasn't clear.  In order to establish parentage relationships, they essentially had to go by trial and error and try out a lot of different combinations of grapes as putative parents to see what worked.  In the course of their analyses, they found that Ciliegiolo and an obscure grape they plucked out of the countryside near Naples that they call Calabrese di Montenuovo were the parents of the Sangiovese grape.

Game over, right?  Well, not exactly.  Shortly thereafter, another research group led by Manuel Di Vecchi Staraz (citation below) analyzed the DNA of several thousand different grapes to try and determine how and where Sangiovese might fit in with any of their family trees.  This team was unable to find any parent-pair for Sangiovese among their samples and while they found a parent-offspring relationship between Ciliegiolo and Sangiovese, their research led them to conclude that Sangiovese was actually the parent to Ciliegiolo (along with a grape called Muscat rouge de Madére).  Further, their analysis enabled them to discover the parents of Muscat Rouge de Madére, which enabled them to do some analyses based on these sets of grandparents which, they feel, cemented their claim (I don't understand enough of the science to know how justified they are in this claim).  They also point to the fact that Sangiovese appears in the literature earlier than Ciliegiolo as proof that it is an older variety and thus parent to Ciliegiolo by necessity, but I don't find this argument convincing as names for grapes change frequently and the presence of a grape in the written record only accounts for its discovery not for its existence.

So we have a controversy here, and as far as I can tell, it is still unresolved.  A paper published the next year seems to side with Vouillamoz et. al., though you can really only tell that by looking at Figure 2 in their paper (the text is maddeningly vague).  The VIVC, though, seems to accept Di Vecchi Staraz's theory, and they list Ciliegiolo as an offspring of Sangiovese.  Wikipedia acknowledges the controversy and remains agnostic, if poorly cited, about it.  The Oxford Companion to Wine (online version) unequivocally states that Ciliegiolo is one of the parents of Sangiovese, which shouldn't be that surprising if you remember that José Vouillamoz, the lead author of the paper cited above which also makes this claim, is the OCW's resident grape pedigree expert.  In fact, José Vouillamoz is credited (obliquely, I should add...his initials are provided at the end of the entry and you have to click on the J.V. to get his name) as one of the authors of the entry (the other author is one of the cadre of MW's that the OCW has on staff who is an expert on Italian wines but not on genetics).  This means that the entry in the OCW wasn't written by a dispassionate outside observer, it was written by one of the scientists who is directly involved in the debate itself and it bothers me a bit that this not only was this fact not openly disclosed, but the other voices in the debate are completely disregarded in the entry itself.  If you only read the OCW's entry on Ciliegiolo, you wouldn't know that there was any controversy at all, and that doesn't sit right with me.  I haven't contacted anyone at the OCW regarding this because I'm not really in the mood to be told that I have to wait and buy their $125 book to read the full story again.

There are a few lessons to be learned here.  The first is that scientific discovery is a process which sometimes arrives at the truth quickly, but sometimes arrives there by a more complicated route.  The information that is currently available is conflicting, and it seems like a reference material such as The Oxford Companion to Wine should acknowledge that conflict to some extent.  The second lesson is that you should always try to be aware of who the author of what you're reading actually is.  The OCW, as an encyclopedic resource, is a collaborative effort, but there are certain articles that are written by specific contributors and those contributors are occasionally highlighted and credited, but not always.  It is important to know that what you're reading has been written by someone who is in a position to know what they're talking about (an expert), but it's also important to know whether the author has any other kind of stake in the issue at hand.  This particular entry is written by an expert, but he is a biased expert in this case and the responsible thing to do is to acknowledge both the bias itself and also the wider controversy so that interested readers can seek out the original materials if they are so inclined.

**UPDATE**

I've recently come across another paper published in 2010 that sides with Di Vecchi Starazin saying that Ciliegiolo is the offspring of Sangiovese and Moscato Violetto, which is a synonym for Muscat Rouge de Madere.  Their research seems convincing and I'm inclined to believe their results at this point. The citation is: Cipriani, G. et al.  The SSR-based molecular profile of 1005 grapevine (Vitis vinifera L.) accessions uncovers new synonymy and parentages, and reveals a large admixture amongst varieties of different geographic origin.  2010.  Theoretical and Applied Genetics.  121: 1569-1585.

********

So, enough about all that then.  Let's take a look at a couple of wines made from the Ciliegiolo grape, whatever its relationship to Sangiovese turns out to be.

I was actually able to find two different wines made from the Ciliegiolo grape in two very different styles.  The first was the 2010 Bisson Ciliegiolo from the Golfo del Tigullio in Liguria in northwestern Italy.  This wine was made in a rosé style and I picked it up from my friends at the Wine Bottega for about $23.  In the glass this wine was a coral red color like the color of the juice in a bottle of maraschino cherries.  The nose was very intense with nearly every kind of cherry that you can imagine (maraschino, candied, dried, tart, red) along with a touch of strawberry.  The grape is supposedly named for the Italian word for cherry (ciliegia) due to its propensity to smell and taste like, well, cherries.  On the palate the wine was medium bodied with fairly high acidity.  There were flavors of sour cherry, wild strawberry, candied red cherry, cranberry and sour red fruits.  There may have been a hint of residual CO2, but I wasn't entirely sure.  The wine was fresh and juicy but completely dry.  This is a knockout summer wine that I would drink with just about anything.  The fruits were pure and ripe and the wine was an absolute delight to drink.

The second wine that I tried was the 2007 Sassotondo Ciliegiolo from the Maremma region of Tuscancy.  I had to special order this wine and my friend Joe at Curtis Liquors brought it in for me for about $18.  In the glass this was a deep, opaque purple ruby color with a narrow violet rim.  The nose was moderately intense with very meaty, savory flavor notes that reminded me of the smell of dry-aged beef steaks.  There were also dried black fruits (fig and prune) along with some flat cola, baking spice and chocolate.  On the palate the wine was on the fuller side of medium with medium acidity and fairly substantial tannins.  There were flavors of dried black fruits, black cherry and fig, along with a distinctive meaty, beefy kind of flavor and something like flat cola and imitation chocolate.  The wine tasted a little sweet, but it could have been the 15% alcohol giving that illusion.  The meatiness did eventually blow off but in its place that fake chocolate taste came on stronger and stronger.  I just flat out did not like this wine and was unable to finish the bottle.  The sweet taste and the fake chocolate were just too much for me and I only made it through one glass before I discarded the rest.


Citation:

DI VECCHI STARAZ, M.; BANDINELLI, R.; BOSELLI, M.; THIS, P.; BOURSIQUOT,
J. M.; LAUCOU, V.; LACOMBE, T.; VARÈS, D.; 2007: Genetic structuring
and parentage analysis for evolutionary studies in grapevine: kin
group and origin of the cultivar Sangiovese revealed. J. Am. Soc.
Hort. Sci. 132, 514-524.

Free Wine Friday - Sagrantino Redux - San Clemente "Ilucis," Umbria, Italy

Over the past few weeks I've been profiling a series of wines that were given to me by Paul Turina of Turina Italian Wines.  I've recently written about a series of Groppello-based wines, a Vespaiola-based wine and a Grechetto-based wine which Paul was generous enough to share with me.  All of those wines were made with grapes that I'd not yet written about, but this final bottle was made from the Sagrantino grape, which I wrote about way back in January 2011.  Since I've already covered quite a bit of ground about the Sagrantino grape in that post, I've decided to feature this wine in my sporadic "Free Wine Friday" series and try to cover some of the ground that I may have missed in my previous post.

Though Sagrantino has been around since at least 1879 (when it was first mentioned in an Ampelographic Commission report), it isn't a particularly well known grape for a few reasons.  The first reason is that there just isn't that much of it.  There are only a few hundred acres planted to the grape (nearly all of them around the town of Montefalco in Umbria) and only a couple dozen producers who make any wine from it.  Further, wines made from Sagrantino were traditionally sweet dessert wines made from partially dried grapes.  The market for dessert wines hasn't been that great over the past few decades so very little of these wines were exported.  Table wine production has been on the rise over the past few decades, but the quality of these wines has been uneven since many producers have been unable or unwilling to invest in newer technology and/or techniques in their vineyards and in their wineries.

Most of the table wines that we see are bottled under the Sagrantino di Montefalco DOCG which covers both dry table wine production (secco) and dessert wine production (passito).  In order to qualify for the secco designation, the wine must be made from 100% Sagrantino grapes and must be aged for at least 12 months in oak barrels and at least 30 months altogether prior to release.  Why such a long time?  Sagrantino is an incredibly tannic grape and it typically requires several years of oak aging as well as some time in bottle before it is approachable.  Many producers actually exceed the minimum aging time prior to releasing their wines because of just how ferocious young, untamed Sagrantino can be.  Sagrantino is also allowed in the Montefalco Rosso DOC wines, but is only allowed to make up 15% of the blend at the most (the majority of these wines are made from Sangiovese grapes).

What was really interesting to me about the wine that Paul brought for me was that it was a 100% Sagrantino wine from the Montefalco region, but it was bottled as an Umbria IGT because it wasn't aged for the required period of time to qualify for the DOCG label.  The producer, San Clemente, makes a Sagrantino di Montefalco (and makes an excellent Grechetto which I reviewed in my post on that grape), but for some reason they also make this wine called "Ilucis" which is only aged for 9 months in barrel before release.  The bottle that Paul provided to me was from the 2009 vintage, which is apparently the first year that this winery has made this wine.  My best guess is that they've got some young vines that aren't yet mature enough to meet their quality standards for their DOCG level wine, but that's total speculation.

This wine was provided to me as a free sample so I'm not sure what the retail price for it is.  I believe it would be somewhere in the $20 range, which is significantly lower than you'd be able to find a Sagrantino di Montefalco for.  As usual I have not been compensated in any way for reviewing this wine other than by receipt of the bottle.  I do not have any business affiliation with Paul Turina, Turina Italian Wines, or any of their business associates.  In the glass this wine was a medium purple ruby color, which was a bit unusual since Sagrantino based wines are usually inky black due to the amount of time that the juice is left in contact with the skins after crushing.  For their DOCG Sagrantino di Montefalco, this particular winery leaves the juice on the skins for a whopping 21 days.  They don't specify how long the maceration period is for this wine, but you can bet it's nowhere near that long.  The nose was fairly intense with smoky, savory, meaty aromas along with black cherry and blackberry fruits.  On the palate the wine was on the fuller side of medium with fairly high acidity and fairly high tannins.  I was expecting to have the inside of my mouth ripped apart by this but the tannins were kept somewhat in check.  It was a big, brawny wine with black cherry and blackberry fruit with a hint of raspberry as well.  There was a distinct smoky, meaty, almost bacon-y kind of taste to it as well which did blow off somewhat as the wine opened up.  It was a bit harsh and probably could have used a bit more time in the bottle, but it was pretty nice overall.  It's certainly not as deep or complex as a DOCG Sagrantino di Montefalco, but it's a reasonable substitute for the money and is a good introduction for those curious about the grape but unwilling to shell out $50-$100 for a taste.  The high acidity and intense tannins demand food and I would lean towards grilled red meats to soak up some of those tannins.

Vespaiola - Breganze, Veneto, Italy

Over the course of several posts last week (about the Grechetto and Groppello grapes), I sought to introduce you to Paul Turina and the wines that he imports.  Today's post is on another interesting grape that Paul brought to my attention called Vespaiola.  I had not heard of Vespaiola prior to Paul's email and certainly hadn't come across any in my local shops so I was grateful to him for the opportunity to try the grape.  He and his client (Villa Angarano) call the grape Vespaiolo, which is an accepted synonym, but the official name for the grape does appear to be Vespaiola.  Those of you who are into European modes of transportation may notice a similarity between this grape's name and a certain Italian scooter brand.  Both names are based on the Latin word vespa which means wasp.  The scooter is so named because of the buzzing sound the engine makes while the grape is so named because the grapes are naturally very high in sugar and wasps are attracted to them when they are fully ripe (for photographic evidence, check out this picture from the Wikipedia page).  Those of you who are really up on your obscure Italian grapes may also note that the name Vespaiola is very similar to the name Vespolina, a red grape found in the Piedmont region of Italy.  The two grapes are unrelated and the source of the name Vespolina is unknown, but it is not thought to be derived from any kind of a relationship with wasps.

Vespaiola is thought to be native to the Veneto region and there are references to it in publications dating back at least to 1825.  It it grown in a few areas in the Veneto (covering about 432 hectares of land in total) but its most important area of cultivation is undoubtedly the Breganze region in the foothills of the Alps.  Breganze has the unfortunate distinction of being the place where phylloxera was first discovered in Italy in the late 19th Century.  The scourge decimated the vineyards of the area and many producers opted to plant many of the so-called "international varieties" like Pinot Blanc, Pinot Noir, Merlot, Sauvignon Blanc and the Cabernets rather than the native grapes that were popular prior to the outbreak.  Luckily there were a few who hung on to some of the traditional grapes and continued to cultivate them and we have them to thank for the existence of Vespaiola today.

The DOC regulations for Breganze stipulate that any blended white wine from the region must contain at least 85% Friulano and up to 15% of Vespaiola, Pinot Bianco, Pinot Grigio, Riesling or Sauvignon Blanc.  All other DOC white table wines from Breganze must be pure varietal wines and these varietal wines must meet more stringent yield requirements and minimum alcohol levels.  Most Breganze wines are dry table wines, but the DOC also allows for the production of sweet wines either from partially dried grapes or grapes affected by botrytis.  These sweet wines are called Torcolato and in his Grapes and Wines Oz Clarke offers the opinion that Torcolato is "one of Italy's finest sweet wines."  Torcolato is made primarily from Vespaiola grapes but there is often some Garganega and Friulano in there as well (this picture shows how the grapes are hung for the passito style wines).

I believe Paul has a sweet wine made from Vespaiola in his portfolio, but what he brought for me was the 2010 Villa Angarano dry table wine.  Oz Clarke isn't quite as enthusiastic about this style of wine, saying "make Vespaiolo dry and you get attractive, quite characterful white wine, light and startlingly acidic but with no particular aroma."  I figured the only way to see if he was right or not was to pull the cork.  In the glass this wine was a pale silvery lemon color.  The nose was fairly reserved with some green apple, white pear and lime aromas.  On the palate the wine was on the lighter side of medium with fairly high acidity.  There were flavors of tart green apple, pineapple, lemon-lime citrus, green melon and ripe pear.  It was a lean, hard wine with serious acidity that was partially softened by some of the rounder pear and melon flavors, but was overall tight and sharp.  I happen to really like this style of wine, but it definitely needs food to show its best (I didn't have a chance to try this pairing but I'm imagining that seared scallops would be dynamite with this).  It's not a front-porch sipper but it is very well made and is very tasty under the right circumstances.  Again, if you're interested in this wine I encourage you to check out Paul's website and maybe send him an email to see how you may be able to help him make this wine available in your area.

UPDATE

Paul was recently able to get a bottle of the 2008 Villa Angarano "San Biagio" Torcolato for me as well.   As mentioned above, Torcolato is a sweet wine made predominately from dried Vespaiola grapes.  In the glass this wine was a fairly deep lemon gold color with bronze tints.  The nose was intense with lifted aromatics of honey, apricot, pineapple and marmalade.  On the palate the wine was full bodied  with medium acidity.  It was lusciously sweet with rich honey and pineapple flavors.  There was also some orange marmalade, burnt sugar and baked green apple.  I'm generally not a fan of passito style sweet wines, as I find that they lack the depth and complexity of botrytis-based dessert wines and tend to be just sweet and little more.  While this wine certainly wasn't as complex as a fine Sauternes, it was very enjoyable and fairly well balanced.  It could use a touch more acid, but long-time readers will note that that's a pretty common complaint from me and probably says more about my tastes than it does about this wine.  Those  interested in tracking a bottle of this down are encouraged to contact Paul through his website.

These wines were given to me as samples from Paul himself.  I have not been compensated in any way for writing about these wines other than with the bottles themselves.  I do not have any business affiliation with Paul Turina, Turina Italian Wines or any of their associates.

Groppello - Garda, Lombardy, Italy

The last time I counted the number of entries on my Wine Century Club application, I had over 350 different grapes crossed off, so it isn't all that often that I come across something completely new to me.  Such was the case, though, when Paul Turina, of Turina Italian Wines, emailed me a few weeks ago.  Paul had read my posts on Marzemino and Turbiana and was wondering if I'd ever tried any wines made from the Groppello or the Vespaiola grapes.  I informed him that I had not, and so Paul made the trek down from Portland, Maine, to bring me a half case sampler of wines that he imports from various regions in Italy.  I wrote about his Grechetto a few days ago and will be writing about the Vespaiola and the Sagrantino he brought me in a few days, but today I'd like to take a look at the Groppello grape, three wines made from it, and the man who brought them to me.

Paul Turina became a wine importer pretty much by accident.  He'd always enjoyed having a glass of wine with dinner (he is Italian, after all), but he wasn't too fussy about what he drank and didn't spend too much time thinking about it.  About ten years ago, he and his family decided to take a trip to Italy to visit a set of his cousins.  Paul had never been to Italy before and had never met this particular branch of his family tree.  He and his relations struck up a fast acquaintance and began traveling back and forth across the Atlantic on a somewhat regular basis to visit with one another.  On one of Paul's trips, he and his relations stepped into a local restaurant for dinner.  Paul's habit was to order the house wine at Italian eateries, which is usually a fairly anonymous wine made by the proprietor or one of his associates, but on this visit, he decided to take a look at the wine list to see what kinds of things they had to offer.  As he scanned the list, he noticed his own last name, Turina, next to one of the listings.  Curious, he asked the server about the producer and was informed that it was a local family winery which was located just a few doors down the road.

Paul went to investigate the winery and discovered that the proprietors were distant relatives (3rd cousins or so) of his who were fairly well known in the Garda Bresciano region of Lombardy, which is on the western bank of Lake Garda.  The winery is run by Luigi, Dario and Paolo Turina, three brothers who are the latest proprietors of a family winery that goes back a few generations.  The Turina winery is the largest producer in the Brescia region and is quite well known there (one of their rosé wines won an award for best rosé in Italy at one point), but they had no American importer and so their wines were unavailable and unknown in the USA.  Paul decided to change that.

Paul and his awesome Vespa Ape

For sixteen years, Paul had been a chemical importer and distributor.  If he could do it with chemical products, why not wine, he thought to himself, so he procured an importer's license from the Federal Government and began to import his family's wines more as a hobby in order to, as he put it in an email to me, supply his brother with a wine that had his own name on the label.  Over time, his wine-making relatives began to introduce him to other producers who were looking to move into the American market, so Paul would visit with them and, if things went well, he would buy a few cases from them to bring into the US.  He currently represents about 10 different producers who are scattered across nothern Italy and who, together, put out about 40 different labels.  He is frequently traveling back to Italy to find new producers to add to his portfolio and is thinking about branching out more into southern Italy in the near future.  Most of the wineries he represents are small family owned operations that don't produce a ton of wine (the exception is the Turina winery, which produces about 150,000 bottles per year from about 18 hectares of land).  Many of them farm organically and nearly all of them have invested heavily over the past decade or so in their own wineries in order to raise the quality of their wines, which was certainly evident in the wines that I was able to try from his portfolio.

Paul is passionate about the wines that he imports and his enthusiasm for his products is infectious.  He met with me because he is trying to catch the attention of distributors outside of Maine, particularly in Massachusetts, so that he can offer the wines in his portfolio to a larger set of consumers.  The current laws in Massachusetts stipulate that Paul cannot sell his wines directly to retailers, restaurants or individuals within Massachusetts because his business is located in Maine and direct shipping from any out of state producer is prohibited (for the purpose of the law, Paul is considered a producer despite the fact that he is an importer).  He can only sell to a distributor located within Massachusetts who can then apply their markup and sell the wine to Massachusetts retailers who can then apply their markup and then sell it to us, the consumers.  It's a complicated and ridiculous system that is insanely cumbersome, outdated, and unfair, but it is the system we live in and its rules are the rules we have to abide by (those who are interested in changing those laws should check out Free the Grapes and contact their local elected officials to express their displeasure).  I really do encourage any retailers who may be interested in his wines to contact Paul through his website or to contact one of their local distributors to try and urge them to pick up some of Paul's wines.  There are some products he has, like the three different Groppello's I'll take a look at below, that are currently not available in Massachusetts and which are good and interesting enough that wine drinkers will want to seek them out.  I've had the opportunity to sample all six wines he brought to me by now and all of them were unique and tasty while some of them, like the Grechetto, bordered on exceptional.  Paul hasn't paid me a dime for anything I've written and I don't stand to profit at all if his business takes off.  I'm merely a fan of the wines he brought me and hate that more people may not be able to try them because we live in a system that is designed, set up and maintained out of greed rather than out of a genuine concern for quality or consumer choice.

With that out of the way, we can now take a look at one of the grapes grown by Paul's family on the western bank of Lake Garda.  That grape is called Groppello (they also grow "Lugana," aka Turbiana, though I've not had the opportunity to taste any of their wines made from it), and there isn't a lot of information available on it.  The Oxford Companion to Wine's entry reads in full: "red grape variety grown to a limited extent in the Italian wine region of Lombardia."  There seem to be at least three different subspecies of Groppello:  Groppello Gentile and Groppello di Mocasina, which are red grapes, and Groppello Bianco, which is obviously white.  Groppello di Santo Stefano is mentioned as a sub-variety in some places but is probably just a synonym for Groppello di Mocasina according to the VIVC.  The German Wikipedia site does have a page for it (and is, remarkably, the source of nearly all the info I could find on Groppello), though, and they indicate that it is planted on less than 30 hectares of land on the western shore of Lake Garda.  The VIVC does have separate listings for Groppello di Mocasina and Groppello Gentile so it is possible that they're completely different grapes, but most other sites treat them as sub-varieties of the same grape, so I'm following suit.  It doesn't appear that anyone has done any genetic research on these two varieties, but it is probably the case that they're mutations of the same grape or are very very closely related.

The Mocasina subvariety is the lesser planted of the two, covering only about 47 hectares of land, and is so named because it is found primarily in the Mocasina area around Lake Garda.  Groppello Gentile is planted on just under 500 hectares of land, and, like its compatriots, is planted almost exclusively on the western shore of Lake Garda.  Groppello Bianco is generally a synonym for the Nosiola grape, but there does appear to be a white grape called simply Groppello in the VIVC that appears to be distinct from the Nosiola grape.  I'm unsure what its relation is to the other grapes and, further, am unsure what Nosiola's relationship is to any of the other Groppello grapes.  What I do know is the name Groppello comes from the Italian word grop, which means "knot" and refers to the knot-like appearance of the berry clusters on the vine.  Luigi Turina, grandfather to the three brothers currently running the winery, began his Turina Winery because of his belief in the quality of the Groppello grape, and the winery currently offers four different wines that depend on Groppello to some degree.

The first wine that I tried was the Fontanamora Chiaretto, which is at least 50% Groppello (by law), 30% Marzemino and the rest Barbera, though the exact percentages vary from year to year.  The winery also has a wine that is just called "Chiaretto," which I wasn't able to try.  The difference, I think, is that the grapes for this wine come from a prized vineyard site called Fontanamora (and that Sangiovese is used more than Barbera in the final blend for the basic Chiaretto).  For some reason the Turina winery doesn't list this wine on their website, though they do have a page for the regular Chiaretto bottling.  When Paul was telling me about this wine, I thought it was interesting that the final blend of grapes is actually determined prior to pressing.  For most blended wines, each grape variety is pressed and vinified separately and then the finished lots of wine are blended together.  For this wine, all the different grapes are crushed together, left on the skins for less than 24 hours (by law; the actual timing for this bottling was more like 8 hours Paul tells me), pressed, and then the combined juice is all fermented together.  It's a tough way to make wine since if you're off at all, there's no chance to adjust prior to bottling.  You have to make your blending decision based on the grapes themselves and just live with it.


All three of the wines reviewed below were given to me as samples directly from Paul.  I have not been compensated in any way other than receipt of the bottle and I do not have any business affiliation with Paul Turina or any of his associates.  The vintage for this bottle was 2011 and the price that he lists on his website for those interested in purchasing directly from him (if you are fortunate enough to live in a state where that is possible) is $13.  In the glass this wine was a vibrant pink color with perhaps just a hint of onion skin orange around the edges.  The nose was nicely aromatic with tart cherry, strawberry, abd crushed fresh red berry fruit with something slightly floral as well.  On the palate the wine was medium bodied with fairly high acidity.  It was bone dry with bright, juicy tart cherry, maraschino cherry, watermelon, strawberry and fresh raspberry fruit.  It was a bit like drinking a fresh red berry fruit cocktail.  It was clean and refreshing with lovely pure fruit flavors.  This would be a great thing to open up after mowing the lawn on a hot summer day or just to sit on the porch with to watch a July sunset.

The next wine that I tried was the 2010 entry level Groppello which Paul has listed for $12 on his site.  The grapes are hand sorted prior to crushing and are left on their skins for five days.  Once the fermentation is complete, they are racked into oak barrels (some new but I'm not sure what percentage) and aged for six months prior to bottling.  In the glass this wine was a medium purple ruby color.  The nose was fairly intense with dusky red cherry and raspberry fruit with tea leaves and spice.  On the palate the wine was medium bodied with fairly high acidity and low tannins.  There were juicy fresh cherry and red berry fruits with black tea and black pepper on the spicy finish.  The Turina winery website suggests beef or lamb with this, but I don't think it's quite big enough to handle that.  It actually reminded me more of a cross between a nice cool climate Pinot Noir and a Cru Beaujolais.  I actually think this might be nicely refreshing with a slight chill on it, thought it was quite nice at room temperature as well.  It would go with a wide variety of foods and would be an ideal match for almost anything in a tomato sauce.  Fans of bright, juicy, fruit-forward wines with nice acid and soft tannins will find a lot to like here.

The last wine that I tried was a reserve bottling of Groppello sourced from the Seselle vineyard which, according to the Turina winery website, is an ideal location for Groppello.  Groppello is fairly thin-skinned and so is very vulnerable to fungal diseases and moist conditions.  This particular site is situated so that the winds sweeping off of Lake Garda keep the air circulating and prevent any moisture from accumulating on the grapes as they ripen.  As a result, the grapes can hang on the vine a little longer and get a bit riper than in other places.  This wine is aged for two years in oak (some new) before bottling without any filtration.  The wine I tried was the 2007 and Paul lists the price for it on his site at $18.  In the glass this wine was a medium purple ruby color.  The nose was very aromatic with spicy black cherry, plum, charcoal, smoke and black pepper.  On the palate the wine was on the fuller side of medium with fairly high acidity and medium tannins.  There were flavors of red and black cherry, raspberry, smoke, black pepper, baking spice, cola and a hint of brown sugar.  Some of the smoke blows off a bit as this opens up and the red berry fruits step a bit more into the forefront.  The baking spice and cola notes are very pronounced and the wine has a nice spicy complexity that the basic Groppello bottling lacks.  It reminded me quite a bit of the Cesanese I had a few months back.  This wine has a bit more stuffing than the basic Groppello, but I'd probably stick with the same kinds of foods.  I'd be more inclined to open this with grilled meats because of the smoky notes that I picked up in it, but I still think tomato sauces are probably this bottle's best friend.

If any of these wines interest you, please visit Paul's website and send him an email.  He's a fascinating guy who is absolutely in love with what he does.  He's one of the good guys and I really hope someone agrees to pick up the distribution for some of his wines in Massachusetts soon.

Grechetto - Umbria, Italy

I mentioned in my last post that I occasionally am able to learn some interesting things just by entering the name of the the grape I'm trying to research into a Google image search.  Today, for example, I learned that there was a 17th Century Italian painter named Giovanni Benedetto Castiglione who was known as Il Grechetto, according to Wikipedia, because of the "classic air of his pastoral depictions," whatever that means.  Those of you up on your Art History may also know that there was a Spanish painter known as El Greco, who, it turns out, died when Castiglione was about five years old.  El Greco's real name was Doménikos Theotokópoulos, which, as you can tell, is definitely not a Spanish name, so no prizes for guessing where his nickname came from.  He signed many of his paintings Δομήνικος Θεοτοκόπουλος, which is his name in Greek script.


None of which really has anything to with wine grapes.  The only similarity that the grapes have with the painters is that, like El Greco and Il Grechetto, the Greco and Grechetto grapes are not related to one another at all. Many people believe that the Grechetto and Greco grapes must be related to one another given the similarity of their names, but it doesn't look like that's the case (or if it is, no one has stepped forward with any proof).  The similarity of their names is due to the fact that both grapes are thought to have originated in Greece and been brought over to Italy at some point in the fairly distant past, though I've not yet seen any evidence to support this claim.  I've looked for studies linking either of these grapes to grapes currently grown in Greece and haven't been able to come up with anything.  Today Greco is mostly found in southern Italy around Campania while Grechetto makes its home a little farther north in Umbria with some plantings in Lazio and Tuscany.

There seems to be two distinct subvarieties of Grechetto: Grechetto di Todi and Grechetto Spoletino.  Grechetto di Todi seems to be the more widely grown of the two and has its own DOC within the Colli Martani region of Umbria, just southwest of Montefalco.  Grechetto has traditionally been known as a blending grape and is perhaps best known for its occasional appearance in the wines of Orvieto in western Umbria.  Grechetto can account for up to only 45% of the blend for Orvieto while Trebbiano (here called Procanico) must account for 40-60% and a grape called Verdello (which may or may not be the same as the Portuguese Verdelho) must account for 15-25%.  There is no minimum requirement for Grechetto, and some producers don't use any in their wines.  As the grape's penchant for making quality wine becomes more recognized, though, more producers are using as much Grechetto as they can.  There are a few other DOC areas that allow for a high percentage of Grechetto, but most of the varietal Grechetto's that I've seen end up being bottled under the Umbria IGT designation since most of the DOC wines only allow for a maximum of 85% Grechetto.  Producers interested in making a 100% Grechetto have no option other than the Umbria IGT designation.  The grape is also widely used in late harvest dessert wines and Vin Santo production because it has especially thick skins that are better able to survive the extra time on the vine without succumbing to fungal infections.  

I was able to find two different wines made from the Grechetto grape.  The first was the 2007 Argillae Grechetto from Umbria which I picked up from my friends at Curtis Liquors for about $18.  In the glass, this wine was a medium golden lemon color.  The nose was fairly intense with aromas of buttery nuts, ripe red apples and lemony citrus.  It smelled a little oaky and a little leesy, but both aromas were pretty well integrated.  On the palate the wine was medium bodied with medium acidity.  There were flavors of ripe apple and pear with a touch of lemon.  There was also a faint nuttiness and a distinct dairy-ish, cheesy kind of funk to it.  I would have guessed that this wine saw some oak at some point, but the winery's website makes no mention of it.  The wine has definitely undergone malolactic fermentation, which is why the acid seemed kind of blunted here and why there was a distinctive dairy note.  This wine was probably little past its prime and made in a style that I don't naturally gravitate towards, so it's hard for me to recommend it.  It's not exactly a bargain at nearly $20 a bottle, but fans of moderately oaked Chardonnay may find a lot to like here.

The second wine that I tried was the 2010 San Clemente "Verdeaura" Grechetto from Umbria.  This wine came to me from Paul Turina, an importer located in Portland, Maine, who stopped by my house last week to drop a few samples off.  I'll be profiling Paul and some of his selection in greater detail a bit later this week.  As always, what follows is my honest impression of the wine I tasted.  I have not been compensated in any way other than with the sample bottle and do not have any commercial association with Turina Italian Wines or any of its partners.  In the glass this wine was a very pale silver which was as close to water white as I've ever seen in a wine.  The nose was fairly intense with peach, pineapple, lemon and green apple fruits.  It was really a delightful wine to smell.  On the palate the wine was medium bodied with fairly high acidity.  There were juicy, ripe peach and pineapple flavors with pink grapefruit and lime citrus with a hint of stony minerality on the finish.  Paul tells me he gets something a little buttery out of this wine and enjoys it with lobster.  I'd drink this with just about anything as I thought it was an exceptional wine that was intensely flavored but very well balanced.  It was honestly one of the better white wines I've had in some time, which came as a real surprise to me since I've never been a big fan of Orvieto and didn't care much for the Argillae above.  If any distributors are reading this, Paul is looking for representation outside of the state of Maine so please contact him through his website so that more people can experience this wine and some of the others in his portfolio.  I'll be reviewing a Sagrantino from this same producer later this week so be sure to stay tuned for that.