Under the Influence of Italy | Tasting Results

The Under the Influence of Italy tasting at the Roundhouse was a great evening and we had none other than the esteemed palate and unflappable penmanship of wine writer Harry Haddon to record proceedings. See more from Harry at his blog. Over to Harry…

Winter’s head is peeping round the corner here in Cape Town, so this week’s Under the Influence tasting was held inside the Stans Halt tasting room rather than on the lawns of the Roundhouse. A full house of about thirty-odd were there to get under the influence of Italy.

An introductory tasting of Italian wines is a difficult business. Think about it for a second: Italy takes up about the same amount of space that separates Jo’burg and Cape Town, and the entire area grows wine.  And they grow a lot. With over 900 000 registered vineyards growing over 1000 grape varieties it’s hard to know where to start. So an evening of six wines from this vinously diverse country is not the tip of the iceberg; it’s the ice cube in an Eskimo’s G&T standing on the summit of the iceberg.

Allister was presenting this tasting and he drove home the point of how closely linked food and wine are in Italy by giving us one of his favourite Italian sayings: In Italy you do not say you have had too much to drink, rather that you have had too little to eat. This phrase makes so much sense, as it points toward balance in consuming food and wine. Not just in volume but in style. Allister spoke about travelling around Italy and finding each village would have their own specialist dishes to pair with their unique wines. So to think about what wine you are drinking you also have to think about where it is from.

This is not so easy for us South Africans who generally choose our wines by variety. We ask for a Merlot, or a Chardonnay rather than a Chianti or Barolo whose names say not only what the wine is (Chianti mainly Sangiovese, and Barolo Nebbiolo) but where they are from. Our wines have not yet found a firm identity in terms of place, so to order a Jonkershoek, a Malmsbury, or a Riebeek now would make little sense. Although I can imagine some elegant Cabs, oxidative Chenins, and dusty, richly textured red blends being called this in times to come.

The passion we all associate with Italy extends beyond the borders of the Mediterranean boot. As Allister told us of his travels to Piedmont and Alba, there was much nodding and many “Uh-huhs”, and “Mm-hmms” so that it felt more like a Baptist church meeting than a wine tasting. I was waiting for the first “Hallelujah, praise be to God this is a good Pinot Grigio” but alas this was not forthcoming.

We tasted six Italian wines and one South African Nebbiolo. I am not going to opine about any of them because I would be a douche bag for assessing wines I know so little about. But let me offer a few short descriptions nonetheless.

The first wine we tasted was the Fontana Candida Colle Papa which is a blend of Malvasia and Trebbiano. It’s a dry easy drinking blend that is made all over central Italy, this one hails from the hills outside Rome. For me it was reminiscent of Chenin Blanc although more peaches than pears. But where our unwooded whites tend to be fruit dominated, here a linear minerality was predominant, with apple and peaches closely following. Not a wine I could wax lyrical about but simple, quaffable, and balanced.

The second wine of the evening was the Antinori Orvieto which was my favourite of the night. It had a complex nose of honey-suckle, lemons, and a faint nutty character. The palate was rich while remaining elegant and the acidity was poignant (not sure if acidity can be poignant, oh well) giving excellent length. The typical blend for Orvieto  – a wine made  in the southwest corner of Umbria – is  largely made up of Grechetto and Trebbiano. Ours was made up of Grechetto, Pinot Bianco, Procanico (a sub variety of Trebbiano and its replacement here) with some Riesling and Viognier thrown in. This wine had sex appeal, but in a restrained intellectual sort of way – a Natalie Portman as opposed to an Angelina Jolie.

The Lamberti Pinot Grigio was a disappointment. I have read many good things about Pinot Grigio, but I have yet to taste one. This one was light, minerally and minty but fell flat rather than being dainty. (I know I said I’d be a douche bag to opine, but this one was definitely weak)

The reds were rich and meaty with less tannin than I expected. I was imagining that the wines would provide some gnashing of teeth to go with my church comparison, but Allister treated us well and served quite easy going wines.

The one that stood out for me was the Masi Chianti Rufina. This typical blend of Sangiovese, Canaiolo (historically the main component of Chianti, although now it is used to soften the Sangiovese) and Colorino. It had a slightly charred nose with an ash component, followed by cloves and dark cherries. The palate was quite dense with clean acidity and concentrated flavours of sour cherries and black olives that gave way to an aniseed finish. This wine would smoke a cigar, and work in the fields with a rugged brooding look that makes women weak at the knees and men fume with envy.

Our own Steenberg entered the fray with their Nebbiolo. As a grape that thrives in cooler climates Steenberg is a top spot to make this wine. It showed much more fruit than the Italian reds, which was to be expected, but the fine, tight tannins and acid structure indicate a good life ahead of it, which is what one wants from a Nebbiolo.

With the Steenberg shining, the tasting tapered off to a close as I scavenged around the room looking for any last drops of the Orvieto or Chianti, but sadly they’d been snuffled up quicker than a white truffle in a room of foodies.