Time flies when you’re having fun, and it seems to fly even faster when you’re having fun drinking great wine. We had plans to publish a newsletter in September but our respective wine adventures got the better of us, and here we are already into mid-October. I just got back from two weeks in Italy where in addition to attending a friend’s wedding, I had my first experiences in Piedmont and the western Italian Alps. It was the perfect time to be there – from the autumn harvest festivities to the weather – and I hope you enjoy reading my little roundup of the trip below.
This is by no means an exhaustive guide but hopefully it’s helpful as an introduction to the wines of Aosta and/or if you’re thinking about a trip to Northern Italy. And even if you’re not, perhaps you’ll enjoy the flower crown cow portraits towards the end.
Happy Harvest Season!
Julia & Alexandra
P.S. A quick tip if you are planning a trip like this: be sure to book any tastings in advance. Walk-ins are not common and almost impossible during the harvest season, so email any vineyards in advance that you would like to visit.
P.P.S. This newsletter is a long one and you’ll likely need to click “view entire message” at the bottom to see it all :)
PIEDMONT
Piedmont is to Italian wine what Burgundy is to French wine. A region where a singular grape reigns supreme: the nebbiolo. This is where “the king” of Italian wine, Barolo, is made. A very tannic, aggressive red grape, Barolo is not consumed young, and really shines after a few years of aging (which mellows out the tannins). While there are excellent affordable options available, legacy Barolo can sell for thousands – if not tens of thousands – of dollars. The region is also home to the truffle, and since we were there around the time of the annual truffle festival, the region very much had the vibe of good times (i.e. very drunk, chirpy Germans) and decadence.
I would also say that what I enjoyed the least about our visit was that decadence. Our tastings and other adventures were terrific but the rampant elitist consumerism that accompanies such expensive wine and food was off putting at times. This was best summed up when we were in a wine store in a small town and a fellow American walked in barking at the sales clerk that he had a $2,000 budget for a couple of wines, and what’s the best stuff there that they could sell him? Major eye roll. And then there were the truffles, which for an additional 50-100 euros, could be sprinkled on anything you’d like. Just don’t ask if they came from Slovenia …
But to be fair, we knew some of that extravagance was going to be there, and so we made a point of avoiding the large, famous vineyards for our tastings and instead focused on smaller producers. Our favorite: Giulia Negri of the Serradenari vineyard.
While researching interesting Barolo producers, I found out about Giulia through Kermit Lynch’s website. A (very) young woman making high quality Barolo seemed like an outlier in a wine region that is deeply rooted in tradition and where it is not common to see women leading the cultivation and production of these wines.
Our tour was led by Radi, who walked us through the history of the vineyard, its composition, and most interestingly, the ways in which nebbiolo will respond to slight differences in elevation, soil, and sunlight. While we understood what he was saying in theory, it wasn’t until the tasting that we really grasped the nuances of nebbiolo production. Over the course of these 5 wines in a tasting room facing the northern mountains, we saw nebbiolo (and one barbera) through three different types of sunlight and three different soils:
Barolo - Marassio (West)
Barolo - Serradenari (Southwest)
Barolo - La Tartufaia (West)
Langhe Nebbiolo - Pian delle Mole (North)
Barbera d'Alba (North)
Our favorite was the Barolo - Serradenari, made 520 meters above sea level. It had the grippy tannins that we love in a Barolo but there was a plushness to it as well with notes of large petaled flowers, stewed plums, and firewood. I can’t wait to open this in a few years and compare it back to our notes from the tasting.
Fun fact: I just saw a promo video for the new season of Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy, and as part of his Piedmont tour, he visits Giulia and her vineyard!
Some additional Piedmont bottle recommendations from our restaurant visits:
Barbaresco "Tre Stelle", Cascina delle Rose - 2018
Vite Colte La Luna e i Falò Barbera d'Asti Superiore 2019
Where to stay: Real Castelo di Verduno. Perched on a hill overlooking the Piedmont valley and a very sleepy (i.e. quiet) town, the property is stunning with a garden for lounging and a restaurant. It’s also centrally located as an easy jumping-off point for different parts of the region (Barolo, Bra, Alba, etc). The only catch: you better be VERY confident in your ability to maneuver your car up extremely narrow, nearly vertical Italian streets while navigating the insane local drivers who will always disapprove of your (sluggish) driving speed and the occasional American taking a wine bottle selfie in the middle of the road. In Italy, the rules of the hairpin road seem to be “go fast or go home” (or over the edge of the hill …)
VALLE d’AOSTA
Shortly after we left Torino (where I was briefly struck down by the flu) and drove onto the E25, I let out a shriek of delight when I saw the snow peaks in the north looming ever closer to us. Making the drive to the Aosta Valley and Gran Paradiso National Park (in Cogne) felt like we were being transported into another world. The E25 makes a straight shot north and then meanders west through Aosta and towards France. It’s noteworthy not only for the scenery but for the old castles that dot the hills overlooking the main roads. This region is considered the northwestern Italian Alps and it shares borders (and culture) with Switzerland and France. In fact, once we got deeper into the Aosta Valley, the road signs went from Italian to Italian and French, and I constantly heard conversations alternating between the two languages.
We had three goals for spending time in Cogne and Aosta: great hikes, great Alpine wine, and cheesy Alpine food. All three were accomplished, all three were better than expected – and expectations were already high!
A brief note on logistics for anyone visiting this region: I highly recommend staying at a small agriturismo, a bed and breakfast on a farm or vineyard. We opted for Farm Plan de la Tour at the far edge of the small village of Epinel, and it was heaven. A large rustic house that smelled like firewood and freshly made cakes. Our hosts were brothers Ricardo and Matea, who greeted us with homemade apple juice and cookies when we arrived. Our room was large, the shower was hot (important after a day of hiking), and we had a terrace overlooking a pasture with three donkeys and mountains. In the evenings, a fire crackled in the sitting room and the brothers brought out kettles of herbal tea and, my favorite, homemade grappa. I loved the grappa for its gentle sweetest and fresh herbaceousness, and I’m determined to try making it at home. Godspeed, I know.
After Plan de la Tour, we moved north towards our tastings and stayed at a hotel, the Mille Lucci, in the large town of Aosta. The hotel was absolutely wonderful but we didn’t feel that the town was worth staying in when there are so many rural villages throughout the region to explore. If we were to do this trip again, I would have stayed in an agriturismo between Aosta and Mont Blanc. If a larger hotel is what you’re keen on, I would check out the Bellevue hotel in the village of Cogne, whose restaurants have the best Alpine wine lists that I’ve ever seen. It will be more expensive than the agriturismo, judging by the German and Italian sports cars in the parking lot, but it will be gorgeous.
Speaking of the Bellevue’s restaurants, I cannot say enough great things about their Bar Fromage. It was like the physical manifestation of my dream Alpine restaurant. Complimentary spiced wine and a mini fondue pot appeared when we sat down at our table, which was in a dark wood paneled room with embroidered tablecloths and various vintage cooking contraptions hanging from the walls. We had an incredible (and Italian!) Petite Arvine with a starter of cheese and onion tajarin (skinny tagliatelle), and then a vat of fondue. Dessert was a housemade green apple and mint sorbet. The restaurant’s team was incredibly kind and our fellow diners certainly added to the Alpine energy. I was particularly amused by a group of very chic and seemingly stern Swissies who burst into applause and picture-taking when their roast meat was doused in liquor at the table and then set on fire. The things that bring people together …
And now for the wine tastings! The three producers that I want to share today are:
Maison Anselmet
This was our first Aosta tasting and I chose it for two reasons: 1) the bottles are not easy to find in the U.S., and 2) I had heard very good things about their red wines. Going into this trip, I associated Aosta with white wine (Petite Arvine, Prie Blanc) and was very curious albeit skeptical to try the native red grapes. This tasting really changed my perspective on the wines here and we ended up loving Anselmet’s reds more than its whites. Petit Rouge, in particular, was the star but Fumin wasn’t far behind. The tasting included (ranked here by our preferences):
Le Prisonnier (Petit Rouge, Fumin, Cornalin)
Fumin
Les Deux Petite Coeurs Rosé (Merlot)
Henri (Syrah)
Pinot Noir
Petite Arvine
Riesling
Of that group, our favorite was Le Prisonnier, named after the challenges of innovating a vineyard in a country with very strict regulations around terroir and production (i.e. the DOC and DOCG). The wine reminded me of what I love about Saint Joseph reds (earth, embers, purple fruit) but with a lightness that I don’t always find with Syrah from that part of France. We left with a few bottles and were advised that we could open them now but that it would be worth the wait to save them in intervals of 3–5 years and then 5-8 years. And while I could go into more detail about Petit Rouge and Fumin, we’re saving that for a future newsletter ;)
Now back to the prisoner part: what we learned from Anselmet was that there was a period of time where the Italian wine industry needed tight standards to ensure that quality wines were being made and sold. But today, there are winemakers who perceive some of those regulations to be outdated and make it challenging for vineyards to experiment. Le Prisonnier is an example as it does not qualify as a DOC or DOCG Petit Rouge due to its production style but it is an outstanding wine. It will be interesting to see how this dynamic plays out in Italy over the next several years, especially as a changing climate changes the terroir.
Ottin Vini
Now here’s a winemaker that I did pick for the whites but once again the reds came out on top. The tasting consisted of the following, enjoyed in a little tasting room with rustic wood paneling and Alpine accents:
Torrette Superieur Vallée d'Aoste DOC (Petit Rouge with some Fumin and Cornalin)
Fumin Vallée d'Aoste DOC
Pinot Noir Vallée d'Aoste DOC
Petite Arvine Vallée d'Aoste DOC
I was especially excited to try Ottin’s Petite Arvine but was sorry to admit that I didn’t love it. What I noticed during this trip was that many of the Italian Petite Arvines lacked the acidic bite of their Swiss counterparts. I need to spend some more time digging into this but I was surprised by how different these bottles are from the Swiss versions I’ve had.
Now the Petit Rouge and Fumin, on the other hand, were terrific. Whereas Petit Rouge has a softness to those earthy notes that I mentioned before, Fumin carries those same tastes but with a punch. “Sharp edges and brusqueness,” as the winemaker said but surprisingly enjoyable, especially when the blackberries give way to smoke and chocolate.
We brought home some bottles of the Torrette Superieur, which I particularly liked for the dramatic shift in flavors that I found with each sip. Fresh, dark berries gave way to pine needles, white pepper, and other spices. Ottin’s website describes it as “heroic and surly.” Perhaps we’ve found the Lord Byron* of red wines, and I’m here for it.
* Lord Byron did spend a considerable amount of time in the Alps, and on one of our drives we stopped at the Lord Byron Cafe on the side of the road for tea and espresso. The cafe was less surly than the Petit Rouge but certainly not lacking in personality
Ermes Pavese
After a morning driving around Mont Blanc, Courmayeur, and the other last corners of Italy before it turns into France, we made our way to the village of Morgex for our tasting at Ermes Pavese. We were an hour ahead of schedule and decided to stop in the village for a short walk. Immediately after turning off the main road, I spotted a field with a group of cows wearing enormous flower crowns. Puzzled, we parked the car and walked over, and as we did, a huge commotion broke out around the bend in the road. Bells clanging, dogs barking, people shouting. The cows next to us became very animated and in a few moments, a parade of dozens of cows in crowns appeared. Bells swinging, big moos, they were at the center of an annual local festival called “désarpa.” Every fall, the village throws a party to celebrate the return of the local cows to their barns after a long spring and summer gorging on herbs and grasses in the mountain meadows. The parade was one of the sweetest things we’ve seen, with the herding dogs also wearing flowers and a group of children dressed as cows taking up the rear. Once the cows arrived at their destination, the locals dispersed to the beer tent where a local marching band played various Italian tunes. The band was quite good and even some of the cows were taken by the music.
What happened to us next was both mortifying and quite funny. While attempting to leave the village for our tasting, we accidentally drove onto the street where the town parade was finishing its final march. With our rental car wagon leading the way – and people yelling at us in Italian that the road was closed … — we escorted the marching band and animals through the town before frantically finding a side street to make our escape. Whoops.
If you were to ask my husband which tasting was his favorite, he would tell you Ermes Pavese. I’m convinced it had less to do with the wine than with the platters of local meats and cheeses, not to mention homemade bread and potato chips. But for me this was also my favorite tasting because it was an immersion into Prié Blanc, a grape celebrated as quintessentially Alpine and almost entirely exclusive to the western part of Aosta. Prié Blanc is hard to find in NYC, and while every now and then a bottle of Ermes Pavese Blanc de Morgex et de la Salle will appear at Astor, the scarcity of variation among the bottles available makes it really hard to understand the grape in a meaningful way. This tasting accomplished that exactly – while also delighting us with a lot of great regional snacks.
Briefly on the vineyard, the Pavese Winery specializes in Prié Blanc, which they cultivate from 900 to 1200 meters high, at the foot of Mont Blanc. Prié Blanc as a grape is characterized by its ability to withstand frost and harsh weather. As a wine, it is lively, punctuated with notes of white flowers and meadow grasses that linger on top of a refreshing minerality. It was what I had been looking for in the Aosta Petite Arvines but was largely unable to find.
A fun fact about the Pavese Prié Blanc: unlike most of Europe’s wine regions, this vineyard survived the phylloxera plague that wiped out almost all of the ancient vines of France and Italy.
For the tasting, we sampled:
Blanc de Morgex et de la Salle - Valle D’Aosta DOP
Esseme
Le 7 Scalinate - Carlo Pavese
Nathan
Pavese XVIII (sparkling)
All Prié Blanc, all from the same vineyard. The biggest differences among the bottles: harvest time, fermentation style, and the material that the wine is fermented in (ceramic, wood, steel).
The Blanc de Morgex was, for me, the most complex, with layers of white flower, salt, pear, and white pepper. Each sip was different as the wine warmed and we loved it.
Nathan reminded me a bit of a chardonnay both in color (deep yellow) as well as taste (dried apricots, hay). It was richer than some of the others and could stand up to hearty meat dishes, which would otherwise overwhelm the vineyard’s other Prié Blancs. The 7 Stairs stood out the most from the group because of a deep anise/genepy finish at the end. Among all the salty, floral bottles, this one brought the spice.
And then there was the Pavese XVIII, an absolutely delicious sparkling wine that I would have brought home had I not been paranoid about it exploding in our luggage … I truly hope we can get some of these in NYC because I’m still thinking about this one and its biscuity base that gave way to jasmine and sea salt.
While all of the wines were fantastic, I enjoyed the Esseme most of all, which might be surprising considering that it’s more of a table wine. It was insanely fresh with a smattering of tannins for structure, and at 12% alcohol I could easily spend an evening with a couple glasses of it and a cheese board and not feel awful the next day.
We were sad to leave our last tasting, which signaled the end of the trip, but Ermes Pavese was the right note to end on – flower cows, cheese, and all!
So many things stood out to us from these vineyard visits, but we left with two observations in particular: The first was the sheer willpower that it takes to cultivate wine here. The terrain is tough, the weather tougher and unpredictable. The other is the critical role that the sons and daughters, nieces and nephews of the winemakers play in bringing these vineyards to global wine drinkers. All of the tastings that we participated in were led by young people in their 20s and 30s who spoke English, and could speak as fluently about best practices for presenting their wines on social media as they did about the soil and sunlight inspiring their vines. We really loved spending time with them and their enthusiasm for the future of their vineyards promises incredible things for Aosta*.
As for me, I’m already planning that trip to the Dolomites …
*While we didn’t visit these vineyards, a few other noteworthy producers from the region are:
Les Cretes, Cave Mont Blanc, and Grosjeans.
ALPINE INTERLUDES
In case you missed it, Eric Asimov concluded the beloved NYT Wine School with Alpine Whites (The New York Times)
"After too much time in New York, I was aching for Alpine meadows, ancient forests and the rural landscape of my Swiss childhood. What I found were vivid traces of an ancient mountain people’s enduring struggle against the rocky backdrop of their lives." - Sylvie Bigar (The Washington Post)
Italy's best hikes (Lonely Planet)
The "Blonde Witch" making botanical liqueurs in the Slovenian Alps (Atlas Obscura)
A fall guide to Zurich that spotlights four Swiss winemakers (Vogue)