I am no wine expert. I am fan of food, a gastronome if you will. I enjoy refined cuisine just as much as anyone who lavishly peppers a conversation with pretentiously mispronounced wine names that nobody wholeheartedly knows or cares about. I also take pleasure in conversing with those who love to tell you about their favorite Mexican or Chinese restaurant, not knowing if you will even remember the name of the locale ten minutes after the conversation is over. We all eat and we all have something to say about it. I still can’t wholeheartedly believe that there are people out there who don’t care two ways about what they eat. There is nothing sadder than being at a mediocre restaurant and hearing someone a table away order the chicken breast. Eating well is an acquired personal skill, also something that can never truly be perfected. I know what I like based on what I have eaten. In San Francisco there is an Ethiopian restaurant that you continuously hear being acclaimed by local wannabe self proclaimed “foodies.” To be honest, I think it’s awful and would never go back. However, that is my opinion and you totally shouldn’t take what I think or say into consideration. If you’re ever in San Francisco and suddenly get a craving for poorly grilled vegetables that you have to wrap in a bland tasting pita like bread to eat, then more power to you. My opinion towards the trendy Ethiopian restaurant is based on what I have gathered from having eaten in the past. I have never been to Ethiopia, thus I can only compare the restaurant’s food to what it is I have eaten in the past. We all formulate our food opinions based on prior eating experiences. The foods that make us recall an instance from the past or provoke an emotion are those that will always a great impact on our eating habits. As you may have gathered by now, I sometimes come off as somewhat opinionated. In living up to this reputation, I am going to now say something that could even be classified as blasphemous in the food world. I don’t like Chianti wines.
I recently visited Castello Di Volognano, a wine maker outside of Florence. Imagine every cliché you have ever heard about Tuscany. Now takes all those clichés and put them in a castle. That is what Castello Di Volognano is. It is a beautiful castle that sits atop a hill surrounded by vineyards. Holding my prejudices towards Chianti dear, I ventured up to Volognano for a tasting. It was less than a week after this year’s vendemmia (harvest), thus the castle was practically vacant of staff and visitors. Upon entering, I felt as if I was in a winemaking museum. This was obviously going to be a step up from my Grandfather’s homemade wine (which should be classified as grappa with grape juice as opposed to wine). We were taken upstairs into a dining hall where a table was set with a traditional Tuscan spread. Prosciutto, salame, pecorino cheese, and crostini Toscani (small bread slices with chicken liver pâté) were in abundance. The lovely young hostess began telling about the history of the castle and ultimately more importantly about the wines. She informed us of the fact that she has studied sensory perception, thus we should take into account the flavors she says the wine should exude. The tasting started off with a glass of Donna Patrizia Bianco Toscana (I.G.T.). I grabbed a bit of the soft pecorino cheese and took a nibble. I then gave my glass a swirl, sniffed in, and took a small sip. It wasn’t bad, but after one sip I knew their white doesn’t compare to a decently priced bottle of Graco di Tufo. I normally don’t drink much white wine for various reasons. Firstly, I’m more of a fan of robust cuisine, white wine doesn’t necessarily accommodate to that. Secondly, there is more variety in the Italian market when it comes to red wines. More variety means that I will often fall in and out of love with a wine but there is always one behind it waiting to be drank. Sadly, I have realized this little metaphor is similar to the approach that I had taken towards women during my college days.
The second and third wines were Chianti Colli Fiorentini (D.O.C.G.) and Baccante Rossi Toscana (I.G.T.). The hostess told us that the initial scent that the Chianti should evoke is one of banana. Call me stubborn, but I have always taken the idea of wine tasting with a bucket of salt. I don’t believe everyone can smell or taste the cornucopia of flavors wines are supposed to evoke. I didn’t smell banana, but I did taste that firm tang of Chianti that has been imbedded on my palate ever since moving to Florence. It was good; admittedly I will say that Volognano’s Chianti is definitely more refined than many. The Baccante was also good, it a blend of Sangiovese and Merlot that is a slight step up from table wine. If I were to buy one of Volognano’s wines I would go for the Chianti as it is D.O.C.G. and out to impress. As for the white, it is as good as Tuscan white wine can get. Castello Di Volognano has only begun bottling and selling its wines for less than a decade. It is a newer player in an already overly saturated market. Their quality is going to be high and guaranteed. If you can get your hands on a bottle of their Chianti it is worth a sip. It surely hasn’t changed my views towards Chianti, but after going to the castle and seeing the passion behind their work I can say that sometimes my views can be a little harsh.
Flavio Nocito
This is it. The time has finally come. I’ve been waiting nine months for this moment and it has finally arrived. The 2009 Tuscan grape harvest. It is a dream of any wine lover to partake in this inspirational and culturally rich event. However, the harvest is not all fun and games. Cutting grapes may seem like an easy job, but I’d like to see you wake up at 730 am, walk 15-20 minutes up steep rocky hills, contend with an assortment of insects, and haul 10-15 kilos of precious grapes up and down the rocky terrain for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. It’s not a glamorous job, but the amount of knowledge gained by seeing and feeling the grapes, examining the terrior, and working with the winemaker is something that you can’t find in textbooks. Living and breathing the harvest makes all the difference.
The harvest took place on the Rufolli Hills of Greve in Chianti. This is fantastic place 350-500 meters above sea level. Podere Poggio Scalette, though a relatively small and new winery produces some of the best wines Tuscany has to offer. The man in charge is Jurij Fiore. Jurij is the most humble, passionate, gentle, funny and sincere person I have ever met. Just being in his presence made me a better and smarter person. He is the type of guy that would just explain what he is doing without you having to ask. As long as he sees that you care and are passionate he will go to extraordinary lengths to give you everything he can. He is the heart and soul of the winery and it made me feel proud to work for him and to be part of his harvest.
In the end I was cut, bruised, bitten and exhausted but it was all well worth it. The dinners shared, bottles drank and stories told were amongst the best in my life. A sense of accomplishment was strong within me. The grapes I picked, the yeast I brewed, and the wine I turned will eventually make their way into a bottle of wine that we can all buy in a wine shop. We need to remember that wine is made by people and every bottle has a different story tell.
Francesco Vigorito