The shad have started running, one of the earliest signs that maybe this winter really will eventually end. And our neighborhood Citarella has been stocking beautifully fresh John Dory (Saint Pierre or San Pietro to those of you who speak Mediterranean, along the shores of which sea we first tasted it). It’s one of tastiest fish around, and between it and the shad, Diane and I have been hitting the white wines hard.
Both shad and John Dory are fish that are so rich and flavorful that we tend to cook them very simply, the former broiled because shad is very oily, the latter lightly floured and sautéed in butter or olive oil. With either fish, we want a wine to complement its intensity, not compete with it – so no big-bodied assertive wines, but rather medium- to light-bodied whites with plenty of minerality and acidity: ideally, a wine that could serve as aperitif or appetizer companion and segue gracefully into its place alongside the entrée.
Happily, there are many such, both French and Italian. Some of my French favorites I will treat in a later post. Right now, I want to focus on a handful of Italian producers whose wines have been giving us a lot of pleasure lately.
This is a large estate – it has grown to 90 hectares under vines – owned by Genagricola, which as the name implies is a corporate entity. There are several such that in Italy have entered the wine world, and – to the surprise of most of us who are suspicious of big corporations playing in what we think of as an artisan’s field – most of them do a very nice job. They have the deep pockets to acquire good sites and good people and to do the things necessary to attain quality.
In the case of Poggiobello, this involved not just the acquisition of land, though that was important: Poggiobello’s vineyards lie in and near Rosazzo in the Colli Orientali del Friuli, one of the best zones for Friulian wines. Beyond that, Genagricola invested heavily in terracing, canalization, and drainage – large expenditures and generally unaesthetic projects that make a huge difference to wine production.
Poggiobello makes the whole line of Friulian wines, including some, like Sauvignon and Merlot, that would elsewhere be classified as international varieties but that have been cultivated here for centuries. My favorites are the whites, especially Ribolla Gialla, a wine that doesn’t get enough attention and that pleases my palate immensely: It marries particularly well with firm-fleshed, distinctive fish like John Dory. My other favorites include Friulano, which used to be called Tocai – despite the changed name its pleasing, almondy character remains intact – and Pinot bianco, a variety that seems to make interesting wine wherever it’s planted.
This is a family-owned winery in the southernmost part of the province of Alto Adige, near the tiny, mostly German-speaking town of Cortina. This is a beautiful stretch of country, with fruit orchards lining the bottom lands alongside the Adige river and vineyards stretching up the slopes that frame the lush valley. Despite being so far north in Italy, the climate is more Mediterranean than continental, and a tremendous variety of grapes grow well here at different altitudes and on different soils. The latter differ quite sharply from one side of the river to the other and as you move up slope from the valley floor.
All that good fish my good wife has been preparing gave me an ideal chance to catch up with some of Zemmer’s latest vintages (I’ve written about his wine before, here). The new releases quite easily live up to the fine impression that earlier ones made. I particularly liked both the 2012 Pinot bianco, which showed excellent varietal character, and the very interesting blend called Cortinie Bianco (2010). The latter is composed of Chardonnay, Pinot grigio, Sauvignon, and Gewurztraminer. Two-thirds of the grapes are fermented in stainless steel, one-third in barriques, which conveyed no perceptible oak flavor to the wine but did give it a lovely roundness and some depth. Very pleasing wines, both.
This winery, with vineyards in several parts of northwest Sicily, is quite a large and committedly Sicilian firm. It has a deep faith in the native Sicilian Insolia (white) and Nero d’Avola (red) grapes, but it also cultivates Chardonnay and Pinot Nero, which it vinifies as 100% varietal wines and also blends with indigenous Sicilian grapes.
Minor point: I’ve always seen the native white grape spelled with a Z – Inzolia – but Cusumano spells it with an S. Who am I to argue? The major point is that the 2012 Insolia that I drank with shad was lovely: nice varietal character – white fruits, a little peachy, with excellent minerality – and good medium body to match with but neither conquer nor surrender to the shad. Purist that I am, I prefer this 100% Insolia to Cusumano’s 2012 Angimbé, a 70/30 blend of Insolia and Chardonnay. This probably more because I am totally bored with non-Burgundian Chardonnay than because of anything wrong with the wine – which was emphatically not the case. Angimbé is a well-done blend, mixing the minerality of the Insolia and the tropical fruit character of warm-climate Chardonnay. I just preferred the distinctiveness of the native grape in purezza, as the telling Italian phrase has it.
So there you have it: a run of shad, a run of white wines, and the prospect of a few more of both as spring gradually (hurry, please!) moves north.