Rites of Spring: Gergovie & Tutto Wine Tasting

View of Tutto/Gergovie Spring Tasting 2016 in the Round Chapel, Hackney
View of Tutto/Gergovie Spring Tasting 2016 in the Round Chapel, Hackney

Those lucky enough to be in London for the Bank Holiday had a chance to go to an superb event at the Round Chapel in Hackney, organised by Tutto Wines and Gergovie Wines.  Both importers, along with a handful of others, have done much to create a space for natural wines in the London market – 15 years ago wine-drinking here was neatly segmented into high-end Bordeaux and Burgundy, set against high-alcohol, often New World, rotgut sold to the masses at off-licenses.  Natural wines, with their exacting standards of facture, respect for the land, artisanal approach, and sheer contagious enthusiasm, have brought in younger, cosmopolitan drinkers and really breathed life into the wine scene here.  While events like RAW have popularised natural wine, bringing in producers from Germany, Austria and further afield, Tutto and Gergovie have maintained a distinct Italian and French focus.  On the retail side, Noble Fine Liquor, closely associated with Tutto, has made Broadway Market in Hackney pretty much the hottest place to buy top-end, often idiosyncratic producers, particularly from Italy.  A short distance away, the eno-bistrot Brawn, by another natural wine pioneer Ed Wilson, keeps Columbia Road amply fed & watered. Lastly, south of the Thames, Gergovie’s food venture 40 Maltby Street, with its phenomenal but simple food and tiny menu, the place to go, even as Borough Market has descended into a tourist-driven fracas of selfie-sticks and ‘street-food’.

Wine swatches, akin to artist's colour samples, hundreds of them lined the entrance to the hall. The Gergovie team have been collecting these for years, and they were lovely in their minimal evocation of some phenomenal wines from far-off lands.
Wine swatches, akin to artist’s colour samples, hundreds of them lined the entrance to the hall. The Gergovie team have been collecting these for years, and they were lovely in their minimal evocation of some phenomenal wines from far-off lands.

Rant over…so this event was organised primarily for trade and growers, almost entirely from Italy, France, and Slovenia.  It was in an awesome de-consecrated Victorian chapel off Lower Clapton Road, across from Noble’s second venue P. Franco.  I can’t find much on the history of the chapel, but it had distinct echoes of the fine early Christian basilicas found in Constantinople and in Northeast Italy, the old Exarchate of Ravenna.  The room was hung with the lovely posters that have long been a feature of the London and Paris natural wine shops/enotecas, and are so sorely missed in the hyper-commercial (and somewhat more restaurant-based) New York wine scene.  There was a distinctly aesthetic vibe to the whole thing, from the posters, to the small-scale but utterly conscientious attitude of the growers, and even to some of the London-based staff, artists working part-time in the food and wine businesses around Maltby St.

40 Maltby St's spectacular grub: to start, a gutsy terrine, refined liver mousse; duck egg with asparagus; salt cod fritters. Mains: wood-grilled rabbit, aioli, and simple rough greens; a seafood rice. To end: selection of 3 cheeses; a stunning lemon-rind tarte with pure butter base, creme fraiche. This wasn't the day for vegans or diets.
40 Maltby St’s spectacular grub: to start, a gutsy terrine, refined liver mousse; duck egg with asparagus; salt cod fritters. Mains: wood-grilled rabbit (shown), aioli, and simple rough greens; a seafood rice. To end: selection of 3 cheeses; a stunning lemon-rind tarte with pure butter base, creme fraiche. This wasn’t the day for vegans or diets. Wine: Cristiano Guttorolo’s amphora-aged primitivo.

We ended up mostly sticking with the Italian stalls, with no disrespect intended to the others !  Food was essentially a holocaust of rabbits, grilled outside by 40 Maltby Street’s awesome team.  The evening ended at Brilliant Corners in Dalston, where wine crosses audiophile vinyl.

The distinctive wine posters
The distinctive wine posters
...and the sun from basilica windows
…and the sun from basilica windows

In keeping with the superb spring day, it all got a bit out of hand, with a bit of a Dionysian rendition on the preacher’s pulpit.  A tender respect for religious sentiment restrains me from a pic…

Doyen of the corps de vigneron, Gabrio Bini of Serraghia has long been a fixture on the London wine scene. His wines, from Pantelleria, closer to Africa than Sicily, come from old vines, are hand-tended, and partake of the saline air. Our favourite is his amphora-aged white of Zibbibo (local name for the Moscato di Alessandria, the name of which brings out Cavafy's poems of a vanished city).
Doyen of the corps de vignerons, Gabrio Bini of Serraghia has long been a fixture on the London wine scene. His wines, from Pantelleria, closer to Africa than Sicily, come from old vines, are hand-tended, and partake of the saline air. Our favourite is his amphora-aged white made from Zibbibo (local name for the Moscato di Alessandria grape…evoking perhaps Cavafy’s poems of a vanished city).
Gabrio's distinctive bottles.
Gabrio’s distinctive bottles.
The wines of Cantina Giardino come from the highlands of Irpinia, in Campania, known for the great Taurasi appellation. The noble grape Aglianico (Nebbiolo being the Alianico of the North) dominates reds, here and in Basilicata. The white wine Sophia, is based on Fiano, foot-trodden (by children apparently) and aged in unlined clay amphorae. Other wines are aged in chestnut/acacia barrels from the area.
The wines of Cantina Giardino come from the highlands of Irpinia, in Campania, known for the Taurasi appellation. The noble grape Aglianico (Nebbiolo being the Aglianico of the North) dominates reds, here and in Basilicata. The white wine Sophia, is based on Fiano, foot-crushed (by children apparently) and aged in unlined clay amphorae. Other wines are aged in chestnut/acacia barrels from the area.
Cantina Giardino's amphorae
Cantina Giardino’s amphorae
The wonderful proprietors Antonio & Daniela De Gruttola of Cantina Giardino.
The wonderful proprietors Antonio & Daniela De Gruttola of Cantina Giardino.
Farnea's wines, from the Eugenean Hills just outside Padova in Veneto. The soil is volcanic, grapes are fermented in concrete with natural yeasts and skin contact - Emma, based on Moscato Rosa and Moscato Giallo was a fave.
Farnea’s wines, from the Eugenean Hills just outside Padova in Veneto. The soil is volcanic, grapes are fermented in concrete with natural yeasts and skin contact – Emma, based on Moscato Rosa and Moscato Giallo was a fave.
Marco, one of the nicest chaps, in a roomful of them, isn't averse to a cuddle from a comely Celtic lass...
Marco, one of the nicest chaps, in a roomful of them, isn’t averse to a cuddle from a comely Celtic lass…
...meanwhile back in the Colli Eugenei (Source: Tutto Wines)
…meanwhile back in the Colli Eugenei (Source: Tutto Wines)
Again from Veneto, Daniele Piccinin lands are in the Alpone valley near Verona. His focus is on the local, and almost extinct, Durella grape (aka Rabbiosa - the angry i.e. acidic and hard to vinify).
Again from Veneto, Daniele Piccinin’s wines come from the Alpone valley near Verona. His focus is on the local, and almost extinct, Durella grape (aka Rabbiosa – the angry i.e. acidic and hard to vinify).
Cristiano Guttarolo from Apulian karst-covered hills at Gioia del Colle emphasises the local stalwarts Primitivo and Negroamaro, but works hard to tame them and harness refinement and balance instead of the alcoholised fruit that often marks lesser wines of the mezzogiorno.
Cristiano Guttarolo from Apulian karst-covered hills at Gioia del Colle emphasises the local stalwarts Primitivo and Negroamaro, but works hard to tame them and harness refinement and balance instead of the alcoholised fruit that often marks lesser wines of Italy’s mezzogiorno.
Guttarolo's phenomenal Negroamaro - skin contact in steel and clocks in at 12% ABV.
Guttarolo’s phenomenal Negroamaro – skin contact in steel and clocks in at 12% ABV.
...all the better to follow his Trebbiano/Verdecca blend, again skin contact but in terracotta amphorae, giving a salty savouriness. Here supported by a brodetto w/ saffron, staple seaside soup of the Abruzzese, Molisano, and Pugliese coasts.
…all the better to follow his Trebbiano/Verdecca blend, again skin contact but in terracotta amphorae, leaving a salty savouriness. Here supported by a brodetto w/ saffron, staple seaside fare of the Abruzzese, Molisano, and Pugliese coasts.
From the Slovenian border with Friuli-Venezia-Giulia, near Gorizia, we had some excellent wines from Klinec, based on Malvasia, Ribolla Gialla, Jakot (i.e. Tokai Friulano), growing in marl/sandstone soil similar to that of the neighbouring zone in FVG. The wines are aged in cherry, acacia, mulberry, and oak.
From the Slovenian border with Friuli-Venezia-Giulia, near Gorizia, we had some excellent wines from Klinec, based on Malvasia, Ribolla Gialla, Jakot (i.e. Tokai Friulano), et al, growing in marl/sandstone soil similar to that of the neighbouring zone in FVG. The wines are aged in cherry, acacia, mulberry, and oak.
One of our favourites was the aged blend Medana Ortodox, aged since 2006.
Aleks Klinec with one of our favourites – the aged blend Medana Ortodox 2006.  He was here with his wonderful family, with whom he runs an agriturismo we’re going to try to stay at on our winter pilgrimage to NE Italy.

There were a number of other Italians that I didn’t manage to get pictures of – like Skerlj from the Carso in Friuli-Venezia-Giulia, and of course all the wonderful French winemakers.  We also missed, but are looking forward to see at RAW, some others: Cornelissen, Radikon, Lamoresca, Quarticello and so many more from other regions in Italy.

The Devil in the Hills

The title refers to Cesare Pavese’s novel about life, just following the war, in the hills around Turin. And it is the hills one sees first, coming up from the coast, as we did, from Savona, where the Sanremo-Genoa line splits up through the subalpine valleys.

The Langhe hills between Alba and Barbaresco
The Langhe hills between Alba and Barbaresco
Barbaresco town
Barbaresco town centre

In writing this, we’re indebted to Edward Behr’s awesome the Art of Eating, as well as Fred Plotkin’s magisterial survey of the food of Italy, Italy for the Gourmet Traveller. Both publications, dated as they are, seem invaluable for understanding the food and wine of Italy, and of course, for eating well.

A trip to Piedmont is more about wine than anything. The southern hills, the Langhe, are most famous for the appellations Barolo and Barbaresco, on the southern bank of the Tanaro River. Turin lies an hour away, nestled in its cushion of mountains. The Langhe’s most famous grapes are Nebbiolo (so-called for the fog, nebbia, that blankets these hills), Barbera, and Dolcetto (the “little sweet one”). Nebbiolo sits up there with Sangiovese (the “blood of Jove”), and perhaps, with Aglianico, at least in the opinion of a proud Lucanian, amongst the pantheon of Italian grapes. All the more so because, unlike Pinot Noir or the ubiquitious Cabernets, these vines don’t take easily to the climate, land, or aggressive winemaking of the New World – somehow they mainly flourish in modest bits of Italy.

At Osteria degli Sognatori in Alba.  4 meals in 4 nights...
At Osteria degli Sognatori in Alba. 4 meals in 4 nights…
Carne cruda and, inexplicably, Russian salad
Carne cruda and, inexplicably, Russian salad

To paraphrase Behr, Barolo’s characteristic flavours are “violets, tar, faded roses…leather”, and we’re looking at a pale wine that in age “runs toward orange”. Everywhere in the Langhe, one hears of a division between traditionalist and modernist winemakers, and this goes to the heart of Piemontese winemaking’s 20th-century history. Nebbiolo is a treacherous and fickle grape, autochthonous to Piedmont (first referenced in 1303 AD), highly tannic, phenolic, acidic, and susceptible to frost due to its long ripening period. Its fruit is comparatively delicate. The upshot is that this grape takes at least 3-4 years in the bottle before the tannins soften sufficiently to make it palatable.

A beautiful white made by monks, had in Enoteca Perbacco (Sanremo)
A beautiful white made by monks, had in Enoteca Perbacco (Sanremo)
Enoteca Perbacco (Sanremo)
Enoteca Perbacco (Sanremo)

So why put up with the temperamental Nebbiolo grape? Because, its high tannin content serves to protect the wine and slow down oxidation, giving it more time in the bottle to age, allowing complexity (so-called “tertiary flavours” such as tar and leather) to develop, which simply don’t show up in wines that are easily drinkable within 1-2 years of production. There are nebbiolo-based wines that are drinkable 40 years on. Unfortunately, the problem in the past was that by the time the wine developed complexity, the, already ephemeral at bottling, fruit and flower flavours tended to disappear. Producers and consumers were stuck between Scylla and Charbydis: youthful harshness versus a dry, fruitless senescence (and we’re talking about the wine here). “There was never a right time to drink the wine. It was always too late for the fruit and too early for the tannin.”

Vitello tonnato at Garibaldi in Bra, home of the Slow Food movement
Vitello tonnato at Garibaldi in Bra, home of the Slow Food movement

La Barbera is simpler: as the most heavily planted in Piedmont, it produces a darker wine without the tannin, but is still acidic, albeit drinkable earlier than Nebbiolo. But the everyday grape of the Langhe is Dolcetto, light and easy drinking, wine for food, but not really a vino de meditazione. It goes well with the rich cuisine, the raw beef, the cheeses, the boar.

Excellent gnocchi with chestnut flour and wild boar ragu.  Ristorante Garibaldi (Bra)
Excellent gnocchi with chestnut flour and wild boar ragu. Ristorante Garibaldi (Bra)

In the 1980s, winemaking in the Langhe started to change. Yields were reduced, and vines were pruned aggressively to ensure the grapes were fully ripe before picking, which seemed to reduce the bitter tannic content and maximise the fruit. The cellar technique was also modified – as grape juice ferments in vats, a dense cap of crushed skins forms; the skins, and therefore this cap, contain flavour and colour, but are also highly tannic. Various producers introduced techniques, such as agitating or puncturing the cap, or increasing fermentation temperature, to extract flavours while minimising tannins. Controversially, some introduced equipment, such as rotofermenters, which prevent a cap from forming at all. Finally, instead of the traditional tall botti grandi, which allowed for a slow oxidation and more controlled development of refined flavour, there was a move towards the barriques of new oak. Aromatics in the oak leached into the wine, giving (in the worst case), a distinct vanilla note, but also helped add sweet tannins to replace the bitter tannins which had been prevented from entering the wine by the methods above. To maximise fruit, the modernists drastically cut the ageing time, to as little as 2 or 3 years.

The cheeses at Garibaldi (Bra).  Notably, the stanky old Castelmagno.
The cheeses at Garibaldi (Bra). Notably, the stanky old Castelmagno.

Still other producers used yet more interventionist methods, such as reverse osmosis, micro-oxygenation, and so forth, to achieve a desired flavour profile (in some cases, the so-called “international style” of young, easy-to-drink, fruit-forward wine that is promoted by market forces and wine consultants).

One of the few failed meals - La Finanziera.  Cooking was impeccable - just the ingredients were gross - cockscomb, spinal cord, fried testicles were the more repellent items.  The porcini mushrooms were the only edible bits, but they sort of tasted like the spinal cord too....  In the otherwise excellent Scannabue (Turin).
One of the few failed meals – La Finanziera. Cooking was impeccable – just the ingredients were gross – cockscomb, spinal cord, fried testicles were the more repellent items. The porcini mushrooms were the only edible bits, but they sort of tasted like the spinal cord too…. In the otherwise excellent Scannabue (Turin).

Angelo Gaja of Barbaresco has led the modernist revolution in Piedmont. At the other end are producers such as the Conterno brothers, Giovanni and Aldo, Bruno Giacosa, and Francesco Rinaldi, who have tried to maintain the traditional ways, with their higher production and ageing costs, and therefore higher retail break-evens. As Behr says in his 2001 articles, it’s far from clear how much the differences in methods translate into consistent differences, or values, in the final product, and indeed, many producers use a mix of modern and traditional techniques.

View of Turin from Superga, the hill just outside with a cathedral that houses the royal crypts of Savoy.
View of Turin from Superga, the hill just outside with a cathedral that houses the royal crypts of Savoy.
The cable car up Superga.
The cable car up Superga.

We made a 20km walk, along the banks of the Tanaro, from Alba to Barbaresco, through a boar-hunting zone, hazelnut groves, and acres of treacherous mud. But, in doing so, we got a great sense of the distinctive feel of the Langhe hills, rolling along, seemingly all the way to the Alps (the Matterhorn, known as Monte Cervino, was almost always visible towering over the Val d’Aosta). Most of the properties were quite small, with modest sized compounds, and almost no one about. There was the pervasive smell of roasting hazelnuts, perhaps mixed with chocolate, which is of course the smell of Nutella.

Slade head of sculpture Ed Allington's work in the One Torino city-wide contemporary art event !  Matthew Darbyshire also in the same show.
Slade head of sculpture Ed Allington’s work in the One Torino city-wide contemporary art event ! Matthew Darbyshire also in the same show.
Lawrence Weiner & James Lee Byars at the Castello di Rivoli museum outside Turin.
Lawrence Weiner & James Lee Byars at the Castello di Rivoli museum outside Turin.
Sol Lewitt at Castello di Rivoli
Sol Lewitt at Castello di Rivoli

All this was a quiet and contemplative prelude to Turin, comparatively busy and chaotic, but nothing like Rome or Genoa. Turin, first capital of the united Italy, spent considerable time as part of France, and feels French in its Cartesian orderliness and grid-layout, the relatively reserved people. Although generally perfectly nice, they had little of the sparkle of Venetians, the rough bawdiness of the Romans, or the sly dark wit of the Palermitans, rather the Torinese eyes have a distinct sense of the fish that has been dead for some days. The city itself seems to have fallen on hard times, with the recession and Fiat’s troubles. But what the city lacks in warmth, it makes up for in splendid art: a world-class Egyptian collection, currently being renovated (but with a considerable portion still on display); several contemporary art galleries. Everyone seemed to be reading, and the city was filled with bookstores, things we hadn’t seen in Genoa, Sanremo, or Alba, where the sea, truffles and winemaking happily occupy one.

An awesome dish of pig's blood, at Ristorante Consorzio (Turin), an superb Slow Food place.
An awesome dish of pig’s blood, at Ristorante Consorzio (Turin), an superb Slow Food place.

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Fiat factory with rooftop race-track, and the Agnelli art collection (just a few Matisses and Picassos)
Fiat factory with rooftop race-track, and the Agnelli art collection (just a few Matisses and Picassos)