Jakob's Bowl

Against All Odds: The Resurrection Of Fié Gris

While they have a fair number of ‘small’ grapes in France, the number pales in comparison to that in Italy, and most of these French varietals are typically used in blends. If any of these ‘small’ grapes were being made into single varietal wines, I didn’t expect to find them in general circulation in this country. Mother Nature, in the guise of the Phylloxera scourge, wiped out most of the vineyards of France at the end of the 19th century, and with them went many of France’s lesser grape varieties, those indigenous to small pockets of its vast wine landscape. When the vineyards were replanted many of the low yield problem varieties never made the cut so to speak - the French appellation system gave the vignerons no incentive to resurrect these varieties.

I had been aware of this history for a long time, so when I first started to see the Eric Chevalier’s Fié Gris 2008 on the shelves of a few stores here in Seattle last fall, I just assumed it was a name derived from it’s specific Loire locale or from his family history, and that it was either one of the three main Loire whites, Sauvignon Blanc, Muscadette, or Chenic Blanc or a proprietary blend. It popped up again a few weeks ago so I decided to investigate. Well, if Fié Gris didn’t turn out to be something special, extra special for that matter. This low yield difficult to grow grape variety was planted throughout the region before the scourge and thought to be a gone for good. Fié Gris is now believed to be an ancestor, or a cousin, of Sauvignon Blanc - hence its other name, Sauvignon Gris - and the vines that were discovered are believed to have been replanted just after the Phylloxera had taken its toll.

Foxy Lady: Campania’s Coda di Volpe Grape

My ‘small’ Italian white wine journey started in Campania with one of my favorites, Fiano d’Avellino, and based that result, I was anxious to taste Coda di Volpe, the other even lesser known Campanian white. Coda di Volpe is only grown the Campania region, and it was well known to the ancient Romans - to the best of my knowledge it’s been in continuous cultivation in various parts of the region since then. For much of its recent history, the grape named for the resemblance of its clusters to a ‘fox tail,’ was used to blend with other indigenous white grapes, such as Greco, Falanghina, and Verdeca, to produce the various Bianco wines of the region. I believe that this grape has experienced a renaissance in the last several decades with a fair number of single varietal Coda di Volpe wines now available - although, according to Italian wine labeling laws a wine need contain only 85% of a single varietal to be labeled as that varietal.

Small Italian Whites: A Summary

If you went shopping for Italian white wine in the early 1980s you would have found mostly cheap and indifferent Orvieto, Frascati, Verdicchio, and Soave, and possibly a vintage of some Gavi if you were lucky. It wasn’t just that few people in this country took Italian white wines seriously; it appeared that even the Italians didn’t take them seriously. Italian winemakers desiring to tap into the international market began ripping out some of the dozens and dozens of local white varietals that had been cultivated for generations, centuries and even millennia and replacing them with the superstar varietals Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc.

This tide seems to have been stemmed in the last decade with winemakers refocusing their efforts and re-establishing many of these neglected and near-extinct varieties that have proven to produce amazing wines, some with long aging potential. Despite these efforts, Italian white wines still seem to garner little interest and little respect in this country. Even among wine sellers that devote a considerable amount of shelf space and promotional effort to Italian wines, whites get short shrift. Yes, the world of Italian white wines extends well beyond Soave and Pinot Grigio, the two wines that seem to dominate the shelves in this country.

Vulcan's Sicilian Legacy: Carricante

My first exposure to the white wines of Sicily this past year were two IGT Sicilia from the southeast of Sicily in the region around Ragusa - COS Rami, a blend of Inzolia and Grecanico, which was unimpressive, and Gulfi Carjcante, a blend of Carricante and Albanello, which was most impressive in its richness and complexity. Carricante is believed to be indigenous to Sicily and today can mainly be found cultivated on the slopes of Mt. Etna in eastern Sicily. The Carricante vines used to produce the Gulfi wine were grafted over a decade ago from the best Carricante vines growing on the slopes of Mount Etna. Since the Gulfi wine was given the name Carjcante, ‘Carricante’ in the local Sicilian dialect, I was under the impression that it was the grape providing most of the substance to the blend. As it turns out, this isn’t necessarily the case, but Carricante is considered the more important of the two grapes. As a matter of fact the Etna DOC region requires Etna Bianco to have at least 60% Carricante and Etna Bianco Superiore at least 80% - so Carricante was added to my list.

Are You Ready For A Mystery Grape?

There is some really good wine produced in Emilia-Romagna, and a whole lot of uninteresting wine. I was excited when I found this bottle of Albana di Romagna Colle del Re from Umberto Cesari, especially when I noticed the DOCG stamp. The grape in question, Albana, isn’t a mystery, but the wine it produces often times is. The grape has a documented history in the Romagna region at least back to the year 1300 but many think it was cultivated back at the end of the Imperial Roman era. The grape is made in a variety of styles including secco (dry), passito and sparkling. In the past it has been known to produce some good passito wines, but mainly undistinguished dry and off-dry whites, and so it was with amazement that in 1987, Albana di Romagna was the first Italian white wine to achieve DOCG status.

After my first few sips of this wine, I could understand the surprise of the Italian wine community in 1987, since the best I could say about this version was ‘nice’! It was had fruit on the nose and a touch of honey, but not in a very distinctive way, and the palate of just ripening apricot and bitter almond seemed to offer more in the way of residual sweetness than acidity, which made it a bit lackluster. I tasted it later in the day with a roast beef sandwich, and it seemed to be a totally different wine. There was a bit of peach to go with the apricot along with some fennel and other green herbs. The most startling transition was with the residual sweetness and acidity; there was now an absence of the former and a definite presence of the latter, making it more enjoyable. The wine was now crisp with citrus finish of a decent length. I had another glass the next evening without food, and the wine seemed to be a cross between my first two tastings with the return of some residual sweetness, which acted to dampen the citrus acidity.

All in all, even at $3 off the regular price of $18, I’m not sure if I would dip my beak in this Albana di Romagna again - although I might be tempted to try the Tre Monti version.

Return Of A Native

I want to apologize for the stained label of this small white wine from Piedmonte, 2007 Cogno Langhe Bianco (DOC), but this was one of my first Italian white wine finds of the year, and the bottle has been setting next to my stove top all this time. It is made from the Nascetta grape - Anas-Cëtta in the local dialect. I found it in Portland in the early spring, before I ever decided on engaging on a semi-systematic quest for small Italian whites. I jotted down a few notes and stuck them in my desk drawer. When I started posting about these small grapes, my source in Portland seemed well stocked, so I concentrated on other wines. When I was ready to write about it, I was out of luck, until this weekend at Perbacco in San Francisco.