Among the many reasons I had for giving thanks this year, I count Pelaverga high among my vinous blessings. It’s yet another of those Italian grape varieties (of which, happily, there are now many) that was teetering on the edge of extinction when a handful of growers rescued it, lest another fragment of their youth and their heritage should disappear forever.
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The Burlotto family in Verduno, a town in Piedmont’s Cuneo province, appears to have been the first to make a serious commitment to Pelaverga. Long-time Barolo producers, they did this back in the 1970s, when it was beginning to appear that the whole Alba area was about to be engulfed by the most restricted form of monoculture – not just of grape vines, but of Nebbiolo exclusively. Forests that once yielded truffles gave way to vineyards, and vineyards that once grew Dolcetto and Barbera gave way to Nebbiolo. At that time, to devote a fine vineyard to Pelaverga, a grape unfashionably light-bodied and “unserious,” must have looked like lunacy.
Now that I think about it, I should have reserved the top spot on my Thanksgiving list this year for all such lunatics: May they increase and multiply and replenish the earth.
At any rate, the Burlotto family works both their eponymous estate and their Castello di Verduno estate. They gave over the latter’s Basadone vineyard to Pelaverga, and they have never regretted it. They still produce that wine today, and it is regarded by their colleagues and by the (still not enormous) corps of Pelaverga fanciers as the pace-setter for the variety.
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It has been joined over the years by more producers, almost always drawn from the ranks of traditional growers and those reluctant to see the best of the past slide away. In addition to Burlotto and Castello di Verduno, these include Fratelli Alessandria, Ascheri, and Bel Colle. Reverdito and Terre del Barolo also make Pelaverga, but I haven’t had the chance to taste theirs. The very best I’ve had are Burlotto and Castello di Verduno, both of which I know are available in the US, albeit of limited supply.
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Let me be clear about this: Pelaverga is no mere nostalgia trip. Growers are cultivating Pelaverga because it makes a wonderful wine, bright and acid and charming, yet still substantial, still a true Piedmont wine. But Pelaverga is a difficult grape to manage: Let it hang too long or get too ripe (an increasing problem in these days of global warming) and its acidity drops like a rock, and with it the charm and fresh fruit that distinguish the variety.
First-time tasters of Pelaverga almost always think of Beaujolais, because, like many Beaujolais it’s light in color, it almost always tastes lightly but distinctly of strawberry, and it has marked acidity. But there the resemblance ends: Pelaverga is an altogether guttier wine. It reflects a terroir with a horizon of Alps, not the gentle hills of smiling, sunny Beaujeux. The wine weighs in as a middleweight, not a lightweight, and its fruit is almost always brightened by spiciness and pepper.
Its low, soft tannins and bracing acidity make Pelaverga a versatile companion to many kinds of food: In the Piedmont, they love it with carne cruda and with local salume, as well as with pastas and risotto of all sorts. It seems to have a special affinity with mushroom dishes. In short, it’s happy with everything short of the biggest roasts – and I myself can certainly imagine enjoying it alongside a rare roast beef, even if it might, in that company, taste a little light.
One caveat: The grape I’m describing here is Pelaverga piccolo, grown around the town of Verduno in the Barolo zone (hence often called Pelaverga di Verduno). There is an unrelated Piedmont grape that shares the name, Pelaverga grosso, grown around Turin. This is more often blended than vinified monovarietally, and indeed is often made into a rosé. Until quite recently, these two were thought to be identical, even though they yield very different wines. Pelaverga grosso is still of very localized production around Turin, and has not caught the attention of Italian enophiles the way Verduno’s Pelaverga piccolo has. For my palate, Pelaverga piccolo makes by far the more interesting and pleasurable wine, a wine distinctly different from Piedmont’s heavyweights, yet clearly still a child of the same soils and weather.