To make matters more complicated, we compared wines from various Northern Rhone appellations and added two ringers just for fun and context:

Northern Rhone:

Colombier, Hermitage $60    

Souhaut, Domaine Romaneaux-Destezet, (Near Hermitage) $30

Chave, Estate, St. Joseph $60      

Benoit Roseau, Patagone, St Joseph $30

Garon Les Rochins, Cote Rotie $60

Garon Les Triotes, Cote Rotie $38     

Perrin, Crozes Hermitage $25     

Domaine des Hauts Chassis Les Galets, Crozes Hermitage $23

Texier Domaine de Pergaud Vielle Serine, CDR (near Brezeme) $35

Balthazar Chaiillot, Cornas $50 

Ringer:

Copain Tous Ensemble, Mendocino County $23

Terlato & Chapoutier, Victoria, Australia $20

As the vintage dictated, big fleshy and fruity wines were noticeably absent.  The only wine marred by overwhelming oak and vanilla was the Terlato & Chapoutier from Australia; the one wine I could actually identify blind.  The Copain from California, a favorite producer whose Tous Ensemble is an entry level bottling, showed brilliantly.  It was the group’s second favorite wine overall, and nobody pinned it to California under blind cover. A beautiful and gorgeous purple red color yielded a modicum of sweet oak in its stubborn aromatics that eventually produced gorgeous floral notes to accompany a lively mouthfeel and good acidity.  While I wished for a bit more in the mid palate and only placed Copan in the middle of the pack of twelve wines, the group deeply appreciated this very capable and delicious Syrah; a bargain at $23.

The 2010 Colombier Hermitage, a wine of great strength and power compared to the field, was the runaway group favorite and shared a tie as one of my favorite two wines of the evening.  The wine’s color was such a dense and deep purple, it actually appeared black. Barnyard and coffee aromas dominated the nose and the seamless integration of so much complexity is more than rewarding.  The Colombier also had the most intense and long lasting finish of all the wines, where solid acidity balanced the wine’s volume to render it drinkable now or 30 years hence.  If money is an object in your life, the 2010 Colombier will make it hard to buy Chapoutier wines from Hermitage at four times the price.

The Chave estate wine from St. Joseph finished third in group voting and in the top 1/3 of my picks.  A dark wine that was the only Northern Rhone in the pack to yield bacon in a melange of truly addictive aromatics, was salty with mocha flavors and a hint of vanilla.  While a truly delicious wine, a couple of us (including me) felt the second best wine of the bunch was the Perrin Crozes-Hermitage, a steal at $25.  The Perrin released a bouquet of flowers on the nose that no other wine generated, with smells of lavender, mint, and coffee.  It is a wine of significant complexity, always staying pretty in appearance and appeal, coating the tongue with a gorgeously sexy and manageable mouthfeel.  The wine never overpowered but stayed riveting from first sniff to finishing moments.  This is a wine to buy by the caseload at $25.  It was a surprising top finisher in this stiff field.

The Souhaut, Roseau, and Garon Les Triotes stood together in similar stylistic difference to the other ten wines.  Lighter in color, dominantly citric and acidic in quality, they all leaned towards freshness as opposed to ripeness or concentration.  The Souhaut did so in unappealing style and was everyone’s least favorite wine.   The Roseau received more nods of approval for its cherry flavors and aromas, with strong citrus on the nose and riveting acidity.  The garnet colored Garon Les Triotes was magic in its citric and acidic profile, offering herbs and incense on the nose and super acidity challenging the sides of your tongue.

Overall, the wines provided a range of styles that might not tell you they hailed from close proximity nor the same vintage.  In most cases, the wines were absolutely lovely, offering their own interpretations of elegant restraint.  There are great values here at all price points and classes from the $25 Perrin to the $60 Colombier to the $23 Copain California ringer.  I will be looking for 2010 Northern Rhones on restaurant lists and in my favorite wine shops.

So, it was important to me that we made friends, and that part came together nicely.

To get there without any Italian, we leaned on Gravner’s daughter Jana, who was as charming and smiling an interpretor as you could ever ask for. Truth be told, Gravner wines are so unique that Jana can not drink any other wine made anywhere in the world, not even in Italy, besides her father’s. They simply don’t work for her, and this might be the only instance where I could appreciate that kind of position. We made friends with Jana, too.

Wait, stop right here. Alex and I, father and son, both astounded and taken by the sheer power, character, and complexity of these one-of-a-kind Gravner wines we were drinking all week across Northeast Italy and now here we were with father and daughter, shepherds of these wines, walking vineyards and cellars with Josko leading the way, thief in hand. I have written hundreds of stories here at WineZag about impressive world-class wines, but I can assure you that while you may or may not like the unique profiles of wines made by Josko Gravner, to me they stand as the most uniquely riveting white wines that I have ever put to my lips (happy to leave the tasting notes to the very fine and pointed WineAnorak’s vertical Gravner tasting wrap up).  Spending some time with Josko, a man of quiet and purposeful strength with an unyielding vision to abide by history and nature for producing what’s right, was turning out to be anything but trivial.

Early on I thought we might lose Josko to the vineyard until I probed directly, “We drank your wine side by side last night with a Radikon Ribolla Gialla and I was wondering if you could explain to us what about the winemaking leads to such distinctively different styles of “orange” wines?”  Radikon is made literally 100 yards down the road, yet the two winemakers are separated by 1000 kilometers of sytlistic differentiation. Radikon is only one example; I could have mentioned Movia, Primosic or others as further examples. The question stopped Gravner in his tracks and refocused the conversation.  With a thoughtful but challenging smile he quietly answered with a question of his own, “Which one do you prefer?”  It was no stretch letting Josko know that I preferred the Gravner style for their glacial edges and smoothness, seamless mouthfeel, pure flavors, liveliness, tight showiness, class, and complexity.  Actually, I can not think of any other wine in the world like it. The Radikon was no match with its pronounced oxidation and I just wanted to understand why.

Jasko classifies his wines as “amber, I do not make orange wines.  Many orange wines are overly oxidized. My wines that I make are amber.”  He pointed out that amber contains organic matter while orange is a color.  ”My wines are living” things that require sulphur in the wine making process to protect them.  Without sulphur, Josko explained without mentioning any other producer by name, you can not keep the wine alive and you will experience annoying oxidative character that is not about the fruit.  Gravner was quick to hang his hat on his minimal but regular applications of just the right amount of sulphur as the key to this bifurcation of orange wine styles, rendering his amber and the rest orange.

Certainly, there must be more.

Gravner does not believe in technology in winemaking.  He has eliminated all refrigeration and steel from the cellar except for one small destemmer. “Technology runs its course in ten years and then it needs to be updated and changed,” Gravner says “unlike the process I use that has worked for more than 1,000 years.”   And of course, Georgian amphoras large enough to fit almost two men in, buried in the ground below his house and working cellar holding grapes for just less than one year during full skin contact maceration, contribute to the formula.  Only then, with the skin providing the deep amber colors the vineyard and vintage are willing to impart, does the wine move into wood upstairs. These wines sit around the cellar in various stages for six years until they are released.  We joked how this is a perfect strategy for “not” making a lot of money in the wine business.

It’s quite eerie walking into the cellar of macerating grapes and seeing nothing:

Tasting from amphora proved the cellar was anything but empty as natural yeasts did their work:

It all starts in the vineyards for Gravner, and we noted the man-made ponds in his old and brand new vineyard.  Attracting insects and birds keeps the balance of nature for the soil and total vineyard environment.  Gravner has made his last vintage of Breg, a blend of Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, and Riesling. All the vines were pulled to make room for more Ribolla Gialla, the true local varietal. As for the non indigenous varieties; the terroir should not support them.  He has also ceased production of red wines made primarily from Merlot, which is honestly a loss to the wine drinking world.  Again, the land and its ancient connection with the vines drive a natural order for Josko Gravner.

We had the chance to taste Ribolla back to the 1998 vintage with the Gravners.  These wines are seamless, powerfully elegant, structured, filled with herbs, and always austere and gracious like ice age glaciers.  The chance for Alex and I to meet and drink with Josko and Jana Gravner was a pinnacle and privilege in my life of wine; a moment I will never forget.

During dinner at The Marrow in New York last night, over a glass of Movia, my friend asked my what has me so taken about Josko Gravner and his wines.  It was a powerful question and the answer goes beyond the drinking experience.  It is more about a man that has take over his family’s wine enterprise that began at the start of the 20th century, pursued wines that he liked without regard for the marketplace, defied common practice, spurned technology, introduced ancient amphora, turned to the balance of nature for predictable results, and from his small hillside perch and humble home in the far reaches of Northern Italy commanded the attention of a global market simply by pursuing what he thought was right and ended up with wines that nobody else has come close to replicating.  Alex witnessed all of this by my side first hand, with great understanding and approval.  What else could a wine loving father ask for?

There is an orange wine rage going on.  This week in NYC I spotted orange wines on three different by-the-glass lists in restaurants and bars. In one bar, the Lambs Club, a glass of Gravner’s amber wine sold for $68. That’s the difference between orange and amber.  No worries, though, you can buy a bottle of Gravner Ribolla for about $75. Defy the rage, drink amber by the bottle!

For too many years, bulk Valpolicella wines made from varied combinations of these grape varieties were bottled as insipid and thin $5 pizza-quaffers. Many Valpolicella growers, large and small, have clearly improved their Valpolicella Classico and Superiore wines but still struggle to convince global consumers and trade channels the product is worth more.  Amarone is an exception to the price ceiling, as are some Valpolicella Ripassos; a method of “re-passing” fermented Valpolicella on top of left-over Amarone grape skins for extended maceration, secondary fermentations, increased concentrations, and higher alcohols from the contact with Amarone pomace.

Botrytis on dry Amarone grapes

It is easy to assume the wines’ persistently concentrated raisin/prune flavor profiles are generated by apassimento; the drying process they undergo. Just as raisins and prunes are dried fruit, so are Corvina, Molinara, and Roindinella in preparation for Amarone. From harvest through late winter, the valley is abuzz from highly ventilated cellar drying rooms and warehouses that chase moisture from berries and clusters while goosing concentrations.  Loosely packed clusters with spacing between grapes are preferred for enough air circulation to minimize dangerous moisture.

Franco Tomassi Shows Dry Fruit

For the first time at a dinner earlier last week at Michelin three-star Le Calandre in Rubano, I tasted Corvina made by Ca’ la Bionda that is produced without any blending or appassimento. Ca’ la Bionda is one of a small handful of Valpolicella producers making 100% Corvina wine. The strong raisin/prune flavor proved itself a varietal characteristic, obviously not a byproduct of apassimento (which I had misconstrued for so long).  It occurred to me that normally vinified Corvina, in a way, is not unlike California’s Petite Sirah; both grow in tightly packed clusters, have high skin to juice ratios and tannins, are prone to rot and are extremely hard to tame for early drinking with meals.  The drying process for Amarone just concentrates and amplifies these varietal characteristics.

There does seem to be good news, though, and a path to elegant, terroir driven, food friendly Corvina wines.  But, the decision for a new breed of regional Valpolicella growers to invest in advanced and natural wine making technique is far from simple. To make investments pay off, they will need to battle a legacy of weak quality and depressed price points their predecessors imprinted on the market’s psyche.  Sharp growers recognize that Valpolicella’s dominant pergola vine training infrastructure requires at least partial replacement with lower-to-ground Guyot systems that promote lower yields (the traditional pergola system, found all over the valley, promotes high volume farming permitting wind and shady canopies to protect tightly clustered Corvina bunches from intense humidity and sunshine).  Add high cellar retooling costs to new risks and instabilities from organic farming and natural vinification and you start to appreciate Valpolicella winemakers’ collective anxiety over the entire proposition.

Valentina Cubi is all in.  The food pairing potential for Valpolicella Classico, Superiore, and Amarone is evident when you finally taste a wine made from Corvina and its supporting varietals that is fresh, fruity, zippy, graceful, and free from heavy heat or oak. This was my son Alex’s (my tasting partner-for-the week in the Veneto) and my experience tasting through the line-up of Valentina Cubi’s wines; raising our eyebrows in unprecedented surprise as bottle after bottle was uncorked. Valentina teasingly invited me to her winery where the 2003 vintage was the first produced under the Azienda Agricola Valentina Cubi label, suggesting,“I want to show you the best Amarones in the world!”

No need to take her or my word for it, since two months ago in Venice the 2004 Valentina Cubi Amarone finished first at a dinner tasting of twelve of the most famous and respected Amarone producers.  The wines were judged blind by the winemakers and producers themselves.  And, while that 2004 Amarone was as restrained and graceful an Amarone as I drank during our week of immersive tastings in the Veneto, the Valentina Cubi wines currently being produced organically, ****  2011 Sin Cero and *** 2011 Iperico were undoubtedly the most exciting we came across in Valpolicella.  Both sell for less than €10 at the winery. They are exactly the kinds of well made exciting wines I prefer drinking with meals.

The Sin Cero is made from organically grown grapes and vinified without sulfites, enzymes, clarification, filtration, nor temperature control. The exciting, beautifully purple colored wine has a more grudgingly tight aromatic, but a fuller palate and more richly textured fruit than the Iperico. It is an experiment that Valentina is nervous about, wondering about long term stability for wines shipped abroad.  It is worth consumers gambling, since the wine’s approachability when young is an impressive interpretation of Corvina/Rondinella as food wine.

The Iperico, made from Corvina, Rondinella, and Molinara has a far more glorious nose of very fresh berries and is lighter in color with saltiness and minerals that tease your tongue and add zip to the wine.  It is hard to believe that these 12.5% alcohol red wines that never see oak are really from Valpolicella. They stand by themselves as natural and organically farmed expressions of the region’s indigenous fruit. From my vantage point, they provide a stylistic compass for the region’s growers and producers.

The aged 2006 Valpolicella Superiore, paler brown at the edges with a touch of green on the nose, was also light, approachable, elegant, highly spiced and provided vibrancy across the tongue.  A younger 2010 Ripasso showed richness in the mid palate and good juicy fruit; a lighter and lovelier version of the style considering the amping up it succumbs to in its vinification.  An older 2005 Ripasso was earth shattering with deep fruit, manageable but present tannins, a beautiful floral quality to the nose, and gorgeous color.  The Ripassos see two-year-old barriques following an Amarone production in their first year of use.  2007 Amarone is sweetly flavored from oak and has amazingly well defined black cherry fruit in a completely balanced and integrated wine. There are strong hints of cola on the nose and in some ways it is characteristically reminiscent of Pinot Noir.  I never imagined I could possibly taste an Amarone and compare it in any way to Pinot Noir.  A special note to the sweet 2011 Meliloto Recioto della Valpolicella that is named after a local grass that flowers yellow. It is organically produced and the fermentation, often halted in Valpolicella to reserve sugars, ended naturally without intervention. At 16.5% alcohol the wine shows up fresh, with dominant cocoa aromatics, a lemon quality brightness, straw on the nose, and amazing richness without any syrupy impressions. It is a major accomplishment using all three Amarone varietals and is triumphantly occupying a few spaces in the sweet section of my own personal wine cellar.

Some of these Valentina Cubi wines are already available in the US.  They should become more available in the US market with a new distribution partnership soon to be announced.  They are worth seeking out. And, a visit to the Valentina Cubi Winery is recommended if you are in the neighborhood.  You can see for yourself the mixture of pergola and Guyot vineyard systems:

pergola in rear/Guyot front

You will see the range of wood and stainless used in the organic production

If you head there after June 2013 you can even arrange to stay at the new Agriturismo the Cubi’s are constructing on the winery site.  With a personal touch of charm, Valentina has moved the tiles from her original home to the center of each of the eight rooms under construction now at the winery

The views from the rooms are pretty good too

These artisinally produced Amarones are under €40, the natural wines under €10.  The entire winery and all the vineyards are in the process of moving to fully organic and biodynamic production.  Cubi is a name to remember when you turn to Valpolicella for wines to drink with your meals.

We parked in front of an open kitchen door releasing wafts of reducing ragu that lured us closer.  Franca Quintarelli, Guiseppe’s surviving wife and Francesco’s grandmother, flashed us her buddha-like smile.  After brief introductions, she slowly waved her arms across the hillside, valley, mountains, and horizon that her family’s wines embody and provides eternal calm to the Quintarelli family kitchen she commands.  No wonder her door is always open:

And from the kitchen door, she could keep an eye on Guiseppe working the rows of vines closest to the kitchen door:

Francesco emerges into the sunshine that kissed the valley and hills this April day.  His calm smile and gentility seems born from the surroundings.  Quintarelli wines have always sidestepped brashness.  The Amarones and Valpolicellas that are made from the spiciest of grape varieties either sit on top of powerful post fermentation dried grape skins (all of Quintarelli’s Valpolicellas are indeed Ripasso, even though you will never see the indication on the label, since Guiseppe felt it was the only correct way to make Valpolicella) or succumb to drying themselves as they become Amarone blends of Corvina, Rondinella, and Molinara. Still, the wines are always elegant and pretty.  Embracing time with Francesco at the Quintarelli home and workshop, though, is less about tasting the wines and more about breathing the Quintarelli calm.

On the way down to a simple lower cellar we passed through work stations and holding areas where the wines hang onto the grace they assumed in a handful of vineyard filled hectares the family tends.

All is alive and well, with bottling and production carried on by the family without missing a beat since Guiseppe’s passing in January of 2012.  Here the new vintage of Bianco Secco, a simple dry white wine that the label indicates is perfect for drinking with fish, is now being bottled.

As we descend into the lower cellar, now firmly out of reach of any kitchen or ragu aromatics, it becomes easier to connect with the wines with an even deeper Zen calm:

Francesco uncorked some wines. First Bianco Secco then a Primofiore (first flower) that boasted a classic red tomato nose, a Rosso del Bepi that Quintarelli lent his nickname to in lower quality vintages he refused to make Amarone from, through Valopolicella Classico, some Amarone, and the glorious, but sporadically made, sweet Recioto.

As we chatted with Francesco through the tasting, it was impossible not to notice the care and calm he used to pass wine to our glass.  I tried to replicate this at dinner, slowly tilting the bottle so only a steady stream of thread sized wine hits the bottom of the glass without a splash.  It is not easy, but he seemed to quietly pour like this as if he knew no other way.

Guisippe never believed in (nor ever had to) peddling wares at large exhibitions like VinItaly nor submitting to trade events or tasting dinners.  If you are interested, you will come visit, smell the ragu, and feel the Zen.  For those that climb the hill, Quintarelli reserves a box of dried Amarone grapes for viewing in lieu of any other exhibition-style pomp and circumstance.

It’s easy to believe that Guiseppe still oversees the cellar.  With multiple vintages of wine he produced still in the barrels before they are ready for release, the wine is not his only presence.  Small acknowledgements are everywhere:

Most are more respectful than sentimental.  The wound of his passing must still be a bit raw.  It was hard, though, not to gulp as I noticed a shelf with Bepi’s simple old straw hats laying around haphazardly.  We smiled in respect at a small table of flowers outside the office as we ascended from the cellar with a new sense of calm and understanding for Quintarelli wines that have drinkers shaking their heads in amazement and thanks all across the globe.

With some Amarone, Recioto, and (I had to have it) olive oil made from the fruit of trees amidst Quintarelli vineyards now in the back seat, Alex and I didn’t speak much as we drove down the hill.  Instead, we just enjoyed the sense of new calm we both came to know breathing Quintarelli air on a hillside perch above Valpolicella.

As a local county agroindustrial councillor says in the book, “it’s true that food expresses people’s identity, but it is equally true, in my opinion, that it expresses a community of those who produce…and those who consume as well.”  One of the soloists, La Subida, was our home during an attempt to join in this expression of identity through consumption.  In Boston we always enjoy eating at home because the food and wine becomes our own expression of who we are.  So we made a point of eating at our temporary home inside La Subida’s restaurant.  After bouncing around the rolling hills of Slovenia and Italy’s Collio and Carso land of plenty (and while La Subida is not your average trattoria, staying completely on point without missing a beat from course to course), dinner here served as a pinnacle expression of the region’s mashed up borderline cultural fabric we witnessed in its hills.

We drank one orange and one red wine (Gravner and Radikon)

This is how much regional expression you get for € 60 .  It sits as one of our top meals so far this year (and a favorite to finish strong by the end of the year)…never to be overlooked if the Taste Soloist book or this post tickles your fancy enough to pay a vist to the pastoral village of Cormons:

Ricotta salata and yellow polenta & herb

Venison tartare and wild fennel

Asparagus salad with pasta wrapped egg, vinegar spray

Short pasta with local sclopit herb

Ravioli sclopit pesto

Rabbit with tarragon

Vinegar sorbet

Venison

Sambucca mousse, strawberry syrup, mint

Filo ravioli stuffed with tarragon and ricotta, with tarragon sorbet and cream

Chocolate ravioli with grapefruit sauce

The end….phew!