Dill Notes

One of the few.

The weather in 2002 was notoriously hard on the Piedmont.  The summer was relatively wet with little sun.  In mid-September hail storm hit the vineyards of La Morra and Barolo.  To add insult to injury, the storm actually passed through, stopped and reversed course, hitting the vineyards again.  In many famous vineyards (ie. Brunate, La Serra)  nothing was left but the trunk and canes.  For the vineyards that remained warmth and sunshine could have prevented an all out lost but little sun came.  Critics were quick to write the vinatage off and, in most cases, rightfully so.  However, there were a few producers who managed to make good wines in in this most difficult of vintages.  The first that jumps to mind is Paolo Scavino's Bricco Ambroggio.  

Bricco Ambroggio is Southern Piedmont in the commune of Roddi.  The slightly warmer conditions and a selection  of fruit from better exposed sites produced Barolo that rivals an averages producer's from a great vintage.  It shows more of the Scavino house style than a particular terroir.  Ripe cherries and menthol are framed by the spice box aromas of new Barrique.  The palate is full and shedding its tannin at a rapid pace...a blessing for this lighter vintage.  What tannin remains gives nice texture.  The whole package is kept buoyant by its acidity.  The Scavinos seem to have eased off the new barrique in this vintage, a wise choice.

The second successful Barolo of the vintage is that of Domenico Clerico.  Clerico is best known for his single-vineyard and proprietary labels; Sori Ginestra, Pajana and Per Cristina.  In this troubled vintage Clerico decided to forgo individual bottlings and make one Barolo.  I visited Clerico in 2005 and tasted the 2002 blend at that time.  He was still debating whether to bottle it under his own name or sell it off in bulk.  At the time i was skeptical, the US retail price would be $60, an average price for others Baroli from average vintages.  Considering Clerico's generosity at dinner i avoided making any disparaging commnets about the prospect of selling the wine.

One year later the 2002 arrived on American shores with barely so much as a whimper.  Few expected to see wines from 2002 and few bought what showed up.  Today, three years later, Clerico's Barolo is reaching its peak, showing its best...and still hard to sell.  It's a shame.  Today it shows the orange-hued color typical of Monforte.  Unlike te Scavino, the Clerico shows aromas and flavors typical of its terroir: dark stone, dried Apricot and, most typical of all, bitter Cherry. What three years ago was a mass of surly tannin has faded into a textural component.  The finish lingers with oak, cherry and earth aromas.

2002 Paolo Scavino Barolo Bricco Ambroggio.  OH Retail: $20-50

2002 Domenico Clerico Barolo.  OH Retail: $20-50

Spain - Ribera del Duero

  Spain. Don't like the weather? Drive two hours. Our first day in Spain was spent in the broiling expanses that surround Madrid.  If the scorching sun and 95 degree days had persisted i might have tired of Spain quickly.  However, two hours north of the capital we saw cooler temperatures in Navarra.  By the time we reached Ribera del Duero those who brought sweaters were toasting their foresight.  The argument could be made that it was May and the weather, even in my native Ohio, could be variable at best.  However, it soon became clear that Ribera del Duero's secret to making intense dark wines from a thi-skinned varietal lay not in winemaking trickery but in a climate of extremes. Although summer highs can top 100 degrees, this area has some of the highest elevations, lowest rainfalls and coolest overall temperatures.  These extremes mean a life of struggle for the vines and low yields.  The tradeoff?  Intensely flavored, concentrated wines.

   

Our first stop in Ribera was at the new facilities of Diaz Bayo.  Spreading out around the winery were the limestone vineyards that held the wineries vines.  Further down the hill, the soils turned to clay.  Although these clay soils produce wines with more heft and weight than those of Diaz Bayo, they lack the freshness and panache that make Diaz Bayo's so unique.  Only one of Bayo's wines was represented by our sponsors but what a wine it is. 

2007 Diaz Bayo Ribera del Duero Nuestro
Up to this point, the best wine of the trip.  Intense black, red and blue fruit; a combination unusual for a Tempranillo-based wine.  The right touch of oak adds a spice accent and rounds out the rough edges.  A seemless palate with fresh acidity, ripe tannins and terrific length.

Throughout the trip we met a number of young winemakers.  All of them shared a restless spirit and a endless desire to experiment. David Sampedro, the winemaker for Diaz Bayo, was no exception. During our visit we were given samples of Sampedro's most recent experiment.  He aged two lots of wine from the same vineyard and vintage (2007) in the same oak barrels.  One lot was fermented in oak uprights, the other in cement. My scribbled tasting notes...

Cement-fermented
Ripe and floral fruit. Fresh, with exceptional integration of oak...particularly for a barrel sample. Perfect length and acidity.
Oak-fermented
Creamy ripe fruit with noticeable oak. Concentrated.  Has the components but lacking cohesion. The oak is almost too much to see around.

This tasting reinforced a theme that was common amongst certain winemakers we visisted.  Being a porous medium, cement offers the benefits of oxygen exchange one gets with oak, without the "oakiness." It's one thing to hear a winemaker pontificate about the merits of what he/she does; it's another thing entirely to try their experiments and see for yourself.   Not only did Sampedro give insight into the current trends in winemaking, he remarked on the current state of wine laws in Ribera del Duero.*

After a visit to Diaz Bayo's winery we were treated to lunch at the nearby chapel.  It started with plates of Jamon and bread.  This was followed by simply-dressed lettuce and tomatoes.  At this point, several whole-roasted suckling piglets were paraded past our tables and into the kitchen. A few minutes later the piglets, plattered and chopped into largish chunks, were brought to our tables. I politely asked my lunchmates if i could have the head and feet.  You'd have thought i asked "Do you mind if i gnaw on this kitten carcass?"  Needless to say, i got what i asked for.

 

Little did they know what they were missing.  That half of a bristle-coated head included a gelatinous cheek, a crispy ear, sweetbreads, crispy snout and brains.  With a tart salad and a fragrant Ribera del Duero, the lunch of the gods.

 

Spain - The Navarra

Day two found us due north of Madrid in the Navarra.  Once know for light reds and roses of dubious quality, the Navarra has seen a recent resurgence.  In the mid-to-late 90's Navarra's wealth of old vines drew winemaker's, importers and wine entrepeneurs from around the world.  While palettes of juicy inexpensive (some would say big and dumb) wines could be had for a song, quality and elegance were elusive.  However, one man saw the potential of the Navarra's limestone clay soils.

Spurred on by a Bordeaux-schooled, Navarra-native oenologist, Juan Magana Ruiz planted the first Merlot and Malbec in Navarra.  In 1974 the Spanish

government's ban on non-native varietals meant potential prison time for those bringing cuttings into the country.  So, Magana employed a few men who were "experienced at bringing things across the border" to carry the cuttings across the Pyrenees onfoot.  The subterfuge persisted even after the cuttings were planted and the vines producing.   When asked what was growing in his vineyards, he replied simply "Tempranillo."  Such was the quality and renown of his "Tempranillo" that the local government consulted Magana when deciding which varietals were best suited to the region.  Today, Cabernet and Merlot grow along side Garnacha and Tempranillo throughout Navarra.

Magana keeps an extensive library of older vintages and, after a visit to the vineyards, we were treated to a tasting of various vintages and a lunch of local specialties.  In typical Spanish fashion, the tables were set with various small plates and we were encouraged to graze, sip and mill around Chez Magana. Among the first treats layed out were radishes, roasted peppers, pickled white asparagus, anchovies in tomato and lighlty dressed quarters of small lettuce.  These were followed by bowls of  Pochas (a stew of fresh and green beans) garnished with Borraja (a local thistle).  This was follow by slow-braised tiny lamb chops with white asparagus.

 

After a tasting of the newest vintages we were treated to one of Spain's most expensive hams.  The finest Jamon Iberico come from black-footed (Pata Negra) pigs that feed on wild acorns and grasses.  King amongst these prized hams are those from the town of Jabugo in Andalucia.  A single 7kg ham can retail for $1,500.  These hams are renowned for the sweetness and nutty character of the fat that runs throughout.  I can comfortably say that it was unlike any cured meat i've had before.  Below is a picture of your's truly hold the Jabugo.

Speaking of library wines and current release, we tried...

2005 Dignus
50% Tempranillo, 25% Merlot and 25% Cabernet.  Aged 12 months in new and 1 year old oak.  Bright raspberry and plum dominate the nose.  Nicely textured with powdery tannin and a long tart fruit finish.

2004 Baron de Magana
70% Merlot, 20% Cabernet and 10% Tempranillo.  Aged 14 months in 70% new French oak.  Dusty fruit  and wood smoke aromatics accent dark blue and black fruits. A densely-textured, but not heavy, palate gives way to an oak-dominated finish.  With time the oak should resolve itself and become part of the otherwise-terrific package.

2006 Calcethas
50% Merlot, 35% Cabernet and 15% Malbec. 19 months in new French oak.  Bright cherry and wood smoke dominate on the nose and palate...almost an amplified version of the Baron de Magana.  A solid structure is wrapped in layers of bright fresh fruits and oak.  This was a sample of the as-yet-unreleased wine.  It clearly needed time to together but all of the components were there.  Should start to show its softer side in 4-5 years and continue to mature for many thereafter.

1997 Magana Reserva
50% Merlot, 40% Cabernet Sauvignon and 10% Tempranillo.  For being a minor component the Tempranillo has a strong presence.  Tart Cherry and pipe tobacco mix with leather accents on both the nose an palate.  The tannins are starting to abate but ample remain.   A nice combination of ripe and slightly tart fruit keeps the palate fresh.  Great now and will improve.

1989 Magana Reserva
Sadly, the first bottle was corked.  Another was pulled but i didn't get a chance to try it.

1982 Magana Reserva
50% Merlot and 50% Cabernet Sauvignon and tasted from Magnum.  Showed bottle-aged characters of dried currant, cedar, pipe tobacco and dried cherries. Terrific weight, balance and length. Although showing its age, still fresh and some tannin remains.  Strangely terrific with the pickled white Asparagus.  In a blind tasting i would have called this aged Bordeaux and felt smuggly confident.

 

 

Where is that?

That is a composite picture of the Ribera Sacra.  This obscure area in Northeastern Spain was was first planted by the Romans.  Actually, the Roman's brought in several thousand slaves to carve out terraces on these precipitous slopes.  Then they planted the grapes.  With the exception of the few vineyards that can be reached from the top by truck, most of the vineyards can only be reached by boat.  Needless to say, it's a labor intensive process.  Some up-and-coming vintners are starting a bit of a revival.  More on them later...

What is that?

Those are Percebes or Goose-neck Barnacles.  This Crustacean (it's not really a barnacle, it's actually a crab) cling to the rocky shores or Northern Spain.  Harvesters risk life and limb to collect these little gems.  As you can imagine, they are pricey.  It's not uncommon for a small plate to run $20-25 in a restaurant.  To eat you peel of the tough hull around the base revealing a somewhat gelatenous bit of seafood. You can also force open the top of the shell to reveal a crunchier more crab-like bit.  We munched them today while boating down the Sil River in Ribera Sacra.  More on that later...

What is that?

That is what happens when free-flowing wine and a bunch of industry smart asses collide.  One of our cohorts took a nap after the tasting today.  The photo op was just too much to resist.

What is that?

That is a bowl of Pochas with Borraja.  Pochas?  A stew of chicken stock with beans that have been harvested at different times.  You can see in the photo that some are "bean" colored and others are green.  The green are picked earlier and have a little more texture and bite.  Borraja?  A native plant.  After some trial and error we were able to determine that it was a type of thistle similar to a Cardoon.  Not much flavor but gave a refreshing sort of watery contrast.  This soup was a warm-up to the Jamon Iberico Jabugo pictured earlier.

What is that?

A Dinner of braised chicken (feet and all).  It was dinner last night at the vineyards in Toro.  In addition to the stew and its delicious feet, there were Livers and other interesting bits in the stew.

  

What is that?

That my friends is yours truly gnawing on a piglet foot.  For lunch we were served whole roast suckling piglets.  Of course, i asked if i could have the head and the feet.  Nobody objected.  The feet and head were super-crispy and flavorful.  The head still had the tongue, brain and sweetbreads attached.  And i must say the cripy little ears were really something else.  I tucked in, savoring good eating of a rare type.  Everyone looked at me as if i were eating the piglet alive.  Regardless, it was delicious.

The View During Dinner Tonight