Zingate? A Voice of Reason in a World Gone Mad

Posted on September 18, 2007 by Do Bianchi

A few years ago, on a memorable sojourn at the Castello di Brolio in Chianti Classico, the Baron Bettino Ricasoli (great-great-great grandson of the “Iron Baron” Bettino Ricasoli, who reshaped the landscape of Tuscan viticulture in the late 19th century) urged me to visit Darrell Corti in Sacramento, telling me that he was perhaps the most erudite and refined collector of Italian wine that he had ever met. The following year, when I went to make a recording at The Hangar in Sacramento (a great studio), I drove to the other side of town to Corti Brothers, the wonderful gourmet food and wine store co-owned by Darrel. When I introduced myself, Darrell produced a copy of my Maestro Martino translation (UC Press, 2005), which he sells in his store, and asked me to sign it.

Above: the erudite Darrell Corti in the wine section of Corti Brothers.

Since that time, I have seen Darrell in Sacramento and New York on a number of occasions. His knowledge of wine (and Italian wine in particular), his erudition, his mastery of Italian, and his worldliness are a model to which I aspire. Whenever I have had the chance to discuss wine with him, I come away — as if by osmosis and not by reverse osmosis! — enlightened in ways that surprise and enrich me.

And whenever I travel to Sacramento to record, I shop at Corti Brothers every chance I get: Darrell’s selection of olive oil is among the finest I’ve ever seen and the servers in his charcuterie department never mangle the prosciutto by slicing too thickly or thinly.

Darrell has been in the news lately, following an episode that has been dubbed “Zingate.”

Last week Olivia Wu published this story in The San Francisco Chronicle where she reveals that an internal memo on Darrell’s tasting policy was leaked to the press. But the fact of the matter is that Darrell openly tells wine salespersons that he won’t taste with an alcohol content greater than 14%. As Darrell has told me directly, he feels — and I agree wholeheartedly — the California “modern” winemaking style has spun out of control, with wines that have been deconstructed and reconstructed to have excessive alcohol content and flavors that have nothing to do with wine.

I loved this passage from the interview:

“Look at the description of wine today. What’s the first word? Chocolate! Wines are supposed to taste like fruit. It’s like food these days. They used to make something with three ingredients. Now the chef puts in 12 ingredients. And sometimes they cancel each other out. The same is happening to the wines.”

Thank goodness for Darrell Corti, a voice of reason in a wine world truly gone mad.

I also found this article on Zingate and Darrell, worth checking out.

Style Wins over Substance: Downtown Cocktails

Posted on September 10, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Last Thursday I joined a wine-and-cocktail-savvy crew (including my new friend Jordan Mackay, who is possibly the funniest wine writer I know) for a crawl through the East Village and the Lower East Side.

First stop was PDT (Please Don’t Tell), a speakeasy style, super-affected, reservations-only bar connected and related to Crif Dogs on St. Marks (Crif Dogs’ website doesn’t seem to be working but maybe they’ll get that together one of these days). You have to go through the hot dog joint to a faux phone both where you then call and they let you in.

The bartenders at PDT are very creative and the shelves are stocked with unusual bottlings, like the bitters collection above. Our bartender poured us a taste of Lucid, which is purported to be the first legal American-made absinthe.

Frankly, the drinks weren’t that good (mostly sugary to my palate) and the chili dog tasted like a whatever NYC street vendor dog with bland tomato sauce on it.

Flash photography is not allowed and I got kicked out after I took the above photo of the weasel (?). Evidently, PDT’s decorator is really into taxidermy.

Next stop was Death & Co. (above), which is also a super-stylized and affected place. I really liked the look and feel of this 1920s tavern and its quasi-Edward-Gorey feel. I genuinely enjoyed my cocktail, a Company Buck, which is made with dark rum and housemade ginger beer. Our waiter was glib and professional and really knew her stuff.

The end of the night found us at Little Giant where I was very impressed by the wine list but underwhelmed by the yes-I-hate-to-say-it way too affected food (panzanella with steak in it? oy…).

I made the mistake of ordering a 2003 Sassella by Sandro Fay, which was too modern (for me and my dining companions). I had never tasted the wine and, hey, you win some and you lose some. But the 1989 white Rioja by Lopez de Heredia (above), which we ordered upon being seated, was stellar. I had only tasted the winery’s whites back to 1994 and this was, by far, the best I’d experienced.

After so many cocktails and bottles of wines, our crew had achieved a certain brio and the confluence of a lot of style and some substance seemed to have blurred the lines between aesthetic experience and downright, pure-and-simple fun.

Tommaso’s: “No good wines… just good bottles…”

Posted on September 6, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Above: Tommaso Restaurant is located in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, one of New York City’s thriving Little Italys.

Words of wisdom were imparted to us last night by restaurateur Tommaso Verdillo of Tommaso Restaurant in Brooklyn where I joined Alice Feiring, Elizabeth Spiers, and Lawrence Osborne for some old wine, great food, and a truly enjoyable and stimulating confabulatio.

Tommaso and his restaurant may be counted among NYC’s best-kept secrets and so be it. Perhaps because Bensonhurst, Brooklyn (one of New York’s true Little Italys) seems so exotic to the uninitiated, perhaps because Tommaso hasn’t received the attention his food and his wine list deserve, his excellent cooking and thrilling-if-ecclectic cellar (a true trésor of old wine) just aren’t on the culinary radar of Manhattanite would-be gourmets.

When it became clear to Signor Tommaso that we were there to raid his cave, he warned, “You never know how these bottles will drink. There’s a wise, old saying: ‘there are no good wines… just good bottles.'” And he’s right: when it comes to old wine, even when provenance is unquestionable and a given bottle has been cellared properly, age invariably increases the chance that a bottling will have gone bad.

The menu and pairings:

Polpettine di Riso and Mozzarella in Carozza

St Joseph Offerus 1999 Chave

Porcini-Filled Tortellini dressed with melted Castelmagno Cheese

Corton Bressan Grand Cru 1983 Chandon de Briailles

Spiedini alla siciliana (breaded and skewered veal served with roast potatoes)

Barolo Le Rocche di Castiglione Falletto 1986 Bruno Giacosa

While the mozzarella in carozza was superb, the tortellini were by far the stand-out dish (I couldn’t resist sopping up the melted Castelmagno in my dish).

The St Joseph lacked the depth that I expected from such a highly touted producer but was good (granted, this is the winery’s “entry-level” wine). The 1983 Burgundy was very tired and had lost most of its body and acidity but its astoundingly low price made it well worth the experience (there are some great bargains on Tommaso’s list).

When we asked Tommaso about the Giacosa Barolo on the list, he told us he would go down in the cellar to see what was actually there. He returned with three bottles and proposed that we open the 1986 Barolo Le Rocche di Castiglione Falletto.

The 1986 harvest was a sleeper vintage, he explained, probably because it was overshadowed by the more famous and much warmer 1985. He and Bruno Giacosa were old friends, he said, and the winemaker had often spoken to him about the underrated and underappreciated ’86. The fact of the matter was that none of us had could remember having tasted ’86 Giacosa. And while I’ve tasted many excellent bottlings of Barolo Falletto by Giacosa, I’d never tasted the cru “Le Rocche di Castiglione Falletto.” (I’ve just discovered this excellent Table of Bruno Giacosa Barolo by nebbiolophile Ken Vastola. It reveals that 1987 was Giacosa’s last bottling of this cru.)

Now in the autumn of his life and career, Bruno Giacosa is one of Italy’s most revered winemakers and many would argue that his wines are among the best Italian ever (the 1990 Red Label Barolo Falletto is certainly one of the best wines I’ve ever tasted in my life). According to legend, Giacosa never studied winemaking. Tommaso told us that during the 1960s, before Italy’s economic miracle reached the Langhe hills (where Barolo and Barbaresco are made), many winemakers were forced to abandon their vineyards and travel abroad to find work to support their families. Giacosa, he told us, generously offerred to make their wines for them while they were gone, thus ensuring that their land would not be snatched up by unscrupulous speculators in their absence. This experience, he said, allowed Giacosa to refine his skill and knowledge and helped to shape his legacy as one of Italy’s greatest vintners.

Although it showed admirably for its age, the 1986 Le Rocche di Castiglione Falletto was tired (it had some good fruit left in it but the tannin had faded). It would have been better a few years ago and I wished we had opened the 1990 Villero (another cru I’ve never tasted from Giacosa). But the price was reasonable and the experience truly memorable. And after all, our simpatico host had gently warned us beforehand, “there are no good wines… just good bottles.”

Above: Barolo Le Rocche di Castiglione Falletto 1986 Bruno Giacosa paired with Spiedini alla siciliana and roast potatoes at Tommaso’s. The bottle of 1986 Giacosa didn’t have the government warning “front label” on the back of the bottle (yes, it’s called a “front label” by the TTB, the Alcohol and Tobacco Tax and Trade Bureau, even though it appears on the back of the bottle). But it did have a strip label that reported the following text: “Experience, love and passion allows [sic] us to obtain this product of the highest quality coming from grapes chosen and selected exclusively by us.”

Under the Bridge Downtown

Posted on September 2, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Above: live eels at the daily market under the Manhattan Bridge (on the Manhattan side) in Chinatown. One had slithered its way out of the tub. Most of the vendors sell produce but there are also a number of seafood mongers (sea snails, fishes, and seemingly any sort of sea creature). There are also a seamster and a cobbler. Sometimes I feel just like that eel.

Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away.

“Wonderful Tonight”: Alicia Lini, Leonard Lopate, and Patti Boyd

Posted on August 31, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Above: Alicia and I did a tasting for Wolfgang Weber, who covers Italian wine for Wine & Spirits, on Wednesday at Centovini.

It’s been a long and arduous week and I have to admit I’ve seen brighter days. But yesterday brought professional reward and an unbelievable surprise.

Back in February of this year, I traveled to Reggio Emilia, Italy with my colleague Jim Hutchinson in search of a new Lambrusco for Domenico Valentino Selections (he’s the import manager and I do some consulting for them). After lunching at one of my all-time favorite restaurants in downtown Reggio, Da Canossa, we headed out to the countryside where we tasted at a number of wineries but didn’t find what we were looking for. We spent the night in Pieve di Cento where we dined with my old friends Dindo and Puddu at my friend Gilberto Buriani’s restaurant, Da Buriani.

The next day we headed to our last appointment at Lini, where we met the lovely Alicia Lini and her father Fabio. And it was there that our quest was fulfilled: Alicia’s wines were fantastic and she and her father were thrilled at the prospect of doing business with Domenico Valentino. In the end, the company decided to import her white Lambrusco (very unusual, a white wine made from red Lambrusco Salamino grapes), a classic Lambrusco Sorbara, a classic Lambrusco Salamino, and a méthode champenoise Lambrusco, in other words, a Lambrusco double-fermented in bottle, just like the wines of Champagne — also highly unusual. Although the wines wouldn’t arrive until June, I began a press campaign for the brand in April.

Above: Alicia and Leonard Lopate in the WNYC studios yesterday.

We generated a lot of great press for Alicia (including write-ups by some of NYC’s top food and wine writers) but the crowning achievement of the campaign was Alicia’s appearance yesterday on the Leonard Lopate Show (click the link for the archived webcast). Leonard wasn’t around when Alicia came out in the spring for a week of dinners but he and I dined one night earlier this summer at I Trulli where we tasted her wines and, after I discovered he is a lover of northern Italian master paintings, we argued over the fine points of Mantegna (his favorite) and Lotto (mine). I have always been Leonard’s fan and my dinner with him was truly fascinating (not always the case with food and wine journalists). Alicia had a great interview and the arc of a six-month campaign had finally come to a close with one of my greatest coups. After all, Alicia can now count herself among a small and illustrious group of Italian winemakers — Angelo Gaja and Maurizio Zanella are the others — who have been granted audiences by this king of radio.

Leonard covers many different subjects on his show, always topical but often eclectic. Yesterday, besides segments on Alicia and Sri Lanka, he interviewed Patti Boyd, the famed 1960s model and actress, wife of George Harrison and later Eric Clapton, and the inspiration for what are arguably the greatest love songs of the 1970s, Something, Wonderful Tonight, and Layla. She was there to speak about her new memoir, Wonderful Tonight: George Harrison, Eric Clapton, and Me.

Above: Patti Boyd (left) took George Harrison to India for the first time and introduced him to transcendental meditation. The rest is history…

I simply couldn’t believe it when I realized that Alicia and I were waiting in the hall with her. And when Wonderful Tonight came on (you can hear the show in the hallway), Alicia and I both got goose bumps… literally.

My friends know me to be a diehard Beatlemaniac. The experience of getting to meet Patti Boyd is rivaled only by the time that my band opened for Ringo at the Bottom Line in the Village the year that the club closed and the year that the current war started.

Above: Alicia Lini looked “wonderful tonight” at dinner last night at Centovini where we raised a glass to celebrate her Lopate interview.

“Like my parents’ marriage…”: ’83 Jordan

Posted on August 29, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Lately life has been topsy turvy, helter skelter, and pell mell and I haven’t posted in a while. But hopefully things will be calming down soon. So many of my good friends have reached out to me, including Alice, who had me over for dinner the other night and opened a Viña Gravonia 1994 Lopez de Heredia (so good) and a famous but new-to-me Gamay, Morgon 2003 Louis-Claude Desvignes. I know next to nothing about Beaujolais and I was impressed by the meatiness and tannin in this wine, although it was a bit jammy (which Alice attributed to the hot 03 vintage in France).

The band has also been really supportive during this period of sweeping changes in my life. Jean-Luc is heading back to California after finally closing up his beloved apartment in London Terrace. He had a few bottles of wine that needed to be drunk, including a Cabernet Sauvignon 1983 by Jordan that had been part of his parents’ divorce settlement. So we got together the other night to open them.

Above: I don’t know what Bonnie (left) and Céline were making in the blender.

Jean-Luc didn’t seem to remember why the wine was stored in a pseudo-ukelele case but it added to the allure of this 24-year-old bottle.

To our disappointment, the wine — although not corked, nor cooked — had passed. Frankly, I don’t know that California Cabernet can last that long (and in all fairness, Jean-Luc admitted, he hadn’t done the best job of cellaring it). I’ve tasted Jordan wines and I have liked them. They seem less overblown to me than most. But this wine was just dead. “Just like my parents’ marriage,” Jean-Luc observed wistfully.

The other bottle he brought was a wine he had bought on a trip to Umbria with his now ex-girlfriend: a 2000 Sagrantino by Paolo Bea, one of my favorite producers and a fantastic vintage. For those of you who don’t know Gianpiero Bea, he’s one of the founders of the Vini Veri movement in Italy and is one of Europe’s leading natural winemakers. The wine drank beautifully.

A broken marriage and an ex-girlfriend… a wine too old to revive… and a wine still very much alive, a wine and “a love that should have lasted years…”

A relationship that ended so long ago that we really can’t remember when…

…and another that ended not so long ago, remembered to us by a bottle found while cleaning out a now abandoned apartment.

Above: Jean-Luc, Céline, and the Professeur on Céline’s rooftop. There had been an eclipse of the moon that night.

White Zin, Chardonnay, and Pinot Noir

Posted on August 12, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Southhampton, Long Island was the destination yesterday. A few colleagues and I went out to the Hamptons to pour wine at a glitzy fundraiser: megawatt celebrities and trophy wives, blue blazers and loafers, khaki pants and flowery prints, perfectly sculpted bodies and botoxed lips, painted smiles and Hamptons drips, but no White Zin, Chardonnay, or Pinot Noir.

Jane Fonda was in attendance, as was Sarah Jones, who gave a wonderful performance (her impressions/accents are amazing!) but didn’t get many laughs when she quipped that she was from Queens, “the other tip of Long Island.” My personal celeb moment was a siting of The New York Times photographer Bill Cunningham who furtively flitted through the crowd (see pic below).

Above: a beautiful sunflower field surrounded the party tent.

An age-old proverb: You can lead a horse to vino but you can’t make her drink.

Although there were a few guests who expressed some interest in the wines, we were bombarded by a litany — a Jeremiad, really — of “Chardonnay? Pinot Grigio? Merlot? Pinot Noir?” and the occasional “White Zin?” In all fairness to this palateless crowd, I heard no one ask for a “Cab.” I guess — to borrow a Hamptonsesque phrase — “Pinot Noir is the new Cab.”

Forgive them for they know not what they do. Of course, my colleagues and I were not pouring any of the above hegemonic, consumerist choices. We were pouring wines which must have seemed terribly esoteric and unpronounceable to the 350+ partygoers: Erbaluce, Malvasia, Montepulciano, and Pelaverga (just try explaining this last one to a white-haired martini-quaffing gent!). These days, people seem programmed to expedite the wine line process by asking for something familiar, something sanctioned and endorsed by their peers, something safe and reliable in situations where appearances are everything and substance refers not to character but to intoxication.

Above: New York Times social-pages photographer Bill Cunningham flitted furtively through the crowd… He’s cool.

Above: We ate lunch at this fish shack (Captain Who’s?), picturesque but the food was just okay.

In other news, I am so bummed that The New York Times has changed paper size. Even the Old Gray Lady herself wrote that this money-saving move would lead to “fewer words” in the paper. Conan O’Brien said it best — quoted in the Times — when he observed:

The New York Times reduced the size of their newspaper; they cut the paper’s width by an inch and a half. The move was announced with the headline, ‘‘Big Changes at The New York Tim.’’

It’s official: Bollinger Sponsors Nous Non Plus…

Posted on August 10, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Above: in the greenroom at Mercury Lounge, I discovered — to my surprise — that Bollinger tastes good in a plastic cup.

Sexy chanteuse Céline Dijon was upstaged at Nous Non Plus’ Mercury Lounge show last night by a bottle of our favorite champagne Bollinger. About halfway into our set, bassist and chanteur Jean-Luc Retard called for a small celebration of our recent French tour with a bottle of Bollinger Special Cuvée.

I have always been a huge fan of Bollinger and the new Nous Non Plus disk will feature a song that we’ve written about our favorite Champagne (out in Spring 08?). For my birthday this year, the band gave me a bottle of Grande Année 1999.

Good stemware is hard to find in rock clubs and so plastic beer cups served as a substitute for crystal flutes last night. At first I was disappointed to see how the fizziness exploded and lost its concentration in the wide-mouthed drinking vessels. But I was pleasantly surprised when the wine reached my lips and the aroma hit my nose: the expanded diameter of the plastic chalice seemed to intensify the classically yeasty notes of the wine.

My current day gig working as marketing director for the restaurant group that owns and manages Centovini Restaurant and Bar in SoHo has brought me into contact on numerous occasions with SoHo interior design guru Murray Moss, owner of the eponymous store, the restaurant’s designer and one of the partners, and undeniably one of the nicest taste-makers I have met in my time in NYC. On those rare nights where I have had the chance to sit down with him over dinner at the restaurant (usually in the company of a writer or two), the conversation has often turned to a discussion of the merits of aesthetically pleasing stemware over “technical” stemware. Murray often challenges conventional wine-wine glass pairings and many of the wines at Centovini are served in stemware that transgresses standards complacently embraced by the wine industry.

My experience last night made me question the wisdom of the obligatory flute and think that Murray is right to lament the absence of the coupe à champagne, simply called a “coupe” in English (some believe that the coupe was modeled after Marie Antoinette’s breasts, a apocryphal legend that is surely false but fun to consider nonetheless).

Click here for a Newsweek article featuring Murray subtitled “It’s not about the glass is half full or half empty—it’s about the glass itself” (you have to click on the image of Murray to get the article to load).

Maybe it was the steamy August night, maybe the hot stage lights at Mercury Lounge… but, man, the Bollinger tasted great in those plastic cups.

Above: Prof. Harry Covert (Greg Wawro, center left) and Céline Dijon (Verena Wiesendanger, center right) pose with fans after our show last night at Mercury Lounge (photo by Gary Wexler).

Tasting 05 Chianti with friends at Michelina (Hoboken)

Posted on August 9, 2007 by Do Bianchi

Above: Miro and Marisa at Cafè Michelina.

One of my closest and oldest friends in the wine biz, Mary Anne Sullivan (head of PR for Terlato Wines, one of the biggest importers of Italian brands), called me last week asking if I’d like to take part in an “under-$25 2005 Chianti tasting” at Cafè Michelina, a wonderful old-school family-owned BYOB Italian restuarant in Hoboken where we often gather (Mary Anne, her husband Miro, and their daughter Mara live nearby in Jersey City Hts.).

We were also joined by Slowfood friends Amy Thompson and Cecily Upton (click her name to check out her blog), Marisa Huff (who works in the food writing biz) and her friend Veronique Colaprete (Marisa and Veronique, it turns out, went to highschool together at Bishops in La Jolla where I grew up), and my friend and fellow French rocker Dan Crane aka Jean-Luc Retard aka Bjorn Turoque.

We tasted nine 2005 Chiantis, all under $25, including the soon-to-be-released-in-this-country Santa Margherita Chianti Classico, which Mary Anne’s company will be launching shortly. Mary Anne wanted to see how the wine would show compared with other brands on the market. Earlier in the week, we had purchased the other wines from Astor Wines & Spirits where they currently carry eight 2005 Chiantis.

Above: Amy and Cecily.

Cafè Michelina is a small and delightfully classic checkered-tablecloth Italian restaurant run by a very nice Palermitan family who lives across the street. Highlights from our meal were the sine qua non “antipast” (perfectly sliced prosciutto, salame, and mozzarella with freshly sliced tomatoes), Penne served with Sautéed Zucchini and Fresh Mozzarella, and a beautiful Veal Carozza (breaded veal scaloppine layered with eggplant rounds that had been dipped in egg and then fried, topped with a tomato sauce).

Above: the “antipast” would surely have made Hoboken-hometown-hero Frank Sinatra proud.

The informal winners in this very casual and super fun tasting?

At a disadvantage because it was the first wine tasted, the Ruffino Chianti Classico was a bit anonymous but showed the “sour”, “tart mouth” notes that — to my palate — are indicative of honest Chianti when the Sangiovese is allowed to muster its bright acidity. “Smooths out once it hits all the points in my mouth,” wrote one taster.

The Chianti Borghi d’Elsa by Melini (which, I believe, comes from vineyards in the province of Florence) surprised some of us, receiving comments like “very smooth + easy going. me likey” and “very classic Chianti.”

Fèlsina’s Chianti Classico was arguably the most traditional-style wine in the flight: “complex nose… well-balanced”, “good acid”, and “most complex” (my personal favorite).

For some of us, the Chianti Classico by Santa Margherita was the favorite: “big nose. chocolate. black cherry… yummy!”, “earthy”, and “hangover in a glass!” (this last observation intended to express the taster’s delight).

I was very curious to try the Santa Margherita, which is a 100% Sangiovese aged in new wood. I genuinely liked it but found it more of a Super Tuscan (i.e., more modern) than a Chianti Classico: it was very tannic (to drink in a few years?) and concentrated, very big in the mouth. It is a well made wine (although too modern for me). In a blind tasting I would have placed it in a price point higher than $25.

The losers?

A straw-flasked Banfi earned comments like “cough syrup”, “jam!”, and “awful”.

Gallo’s Da Vinci: “Something unpleasant about it”, “too jammy”, and “too alcohol-ly”. It’s a travesty, really, that they’ve named this wine after Leonardo.

The wind-up? There’s a lot of Chianti out there… some good… some — not surprisingly — bad… I have always been impressed by the Italian wine program at Astor Wines & Spirits and I applaud the buyer there for offering a wide selection of wines at good prices, some of them true bargains. Although the better Chiantis tend to be a little too fruit-driven for my palate, there are some well-priced options that show balanced acidity and fruit, perfect for pairing with wholesome, tasty Italian American cuisine prepared by a nice Palermitan gent whose lives across the street from his neighborhood-favorite Cafè Michelina in picturesque Hoboken with his wife and two daughters (all of whom work in the restaurant with him, the mother in the kitchen, the daughters on the floor).

Above: Dan Crane aka Jean-Luc Retard aka Bjorn Toroque is also known affectionately as “Snackboy Jr.” for his inimitable ability to snack out. We have shared many an excellent meal and bottle together, whether on the road with Nous Non Plus or at our favorite NYC steakhouse Keens.

In other news, I was Bar Mitzvah 27 years ago today.

To the Emperor’s Censor: Parole in Libertà!

Posted on August 7, 2007 by Do Bianchi

I was appalled but not surprised to learn that my friend, natural wine champion and excellent writer Alice Feiring, had been kicked out of the Robert Parker chatroom when she joined a charged discussion/thread that took shape in the wake of Lettie Teague’s recently published and already much-talked-about piece on Barolo.

Evidently, the chatroom’s policy does not allow wine writers to weigh in when another writer is already participating — directly or indirectly — in the thread. See Alice’ post on the episode here.

The good news is that Lettie Teague has launched a very positive dialogue on Barolo. In her article, she addresses a highly contentious and often divisive issue or, rather, body of issues: can Barolo be consumed young? if it can’t, what’s the point of buying it unless I can cellar it for 20 years? what defines Modernist vs. Traditionalist Barolo? and, after all (and here’s where it gets really tricky), where does the line of tradition end/begin? and what does tradition mean when we see that winemaking styles are constantly changing? Whether or not you agree with Lettie and/or you appreciate her research and tasting notes, she has sparked a hypertext that will certainly help to enlighten would-be Barolo collectors and/or lovers.

In some ways, the current dialectic is analogous to that of Postmodernism, wherein any discussion on the nature of Modernism and Postmodernism has to be prefaced by a discussion of where the historical avant-garde ended (and what, if anything, can come after Postmodernism???!!!). The discussion becomes even more complicated when you consider that (as the erudite Darrell Corti recently pointed out to me) Renato Ratti radically changed the nature of Barolo with his 1971 bottling. Did the “tradition” of Barolo begin only in 1971? Does Ratti’s approach to Barolo mark the birth of Modernism in Langhe? Does this make Paolo Scavino a Postmodernist producer? More on this in another post…

The bad news is that once again, the Emperor of Wine has sent his censor into the αγορά or agora, the “marketplace” (where thinkers, writers, and, in this case, nebbiolophiles gather to contemplate sensation and its meaning) to stifle our dialogue.

Granted, Alice is well known for her strong positions on winemaking and her critical eye and absolute and fierce devotion to the wines she loves have more than once bruised the ego of a peer and/or colleague. But shouldn’t Robert Parker — of all people!!! — encourage positive and meaningful dialogue on wine, wine collecting, and wine appreciation? The Parker chatroom should celebrate her superb wine knowledge, reason, and wisdom… if not for anything else than for the love of wine.

Borrowing a phrase coined by the father of the historical avant-garde, F.T. Marinetti, I have three words for Parker and his censor: parole in libertà! “words in freedom!”

Do Bianchi by Jeremy Parzen

nulla dies sine linea