Wine Column
by Theis Bergstrom, Admin, Data and Personnel Manager
Well, today I learned that the “Piedmontese” is considered a distinct language by most linguists, and not a dialect of Italian. It’s grouped with the Gallo-Italic languages of Northern Italy; also news to me. Other languages in this group included Lombard, Emilian, Ligurian and Romagnol, none of which I have ever heard of.
As you may have guessed, Piedmontese is primarily spoken by the people of Piedmont, Italy, a region nestled in the north-west of the country. Some surrounding regions are Lombardy, Emilia-Romagna, and Liguria. I’m going to make some assumptions about what languages are spoken in each of those without employing any further scholarship. We aren’t here for them anyway. This is a wine column after all, not a geography one. Okay fine, you can’t separate wine from geography but that still doesn’t mean I’m going to talk about Lombardy and its weird, fidget-spinner flag. We’re here to talk about wine. Two regions, and two grapes.
Italy has the most diversity of indigenous grapevines on earth, and also a remarkable distribution of those vines across its growing regions. Sangiovese is the most grown grape, accounting for between 8% and 10% of the total area farmed, next are Montepulciano, Glera (a grape favored for prosecco), and Pinot Grigio (4% each) and Merlot (3%). That leaves 70%+ of total production to a mix of lesser-grown varieties. Some of them are really good.
One grape indigenous to Piemont is Arneis. Known for producing dry, full-bodied white wines, Arneis’ often display notes of stone fruit (apricot, peach, etc.) and tree fruit (pear, apple, etc.). In Piedmontese Arneis translates to “little rascal,” thus named due to the grapes’ difficulty to grow. (Admit it, you didn’t think the linguistic cul-de-sac at the beginning of this column was going to go anywhere.) At the moment the Co-op carries a delightful expression of the varietal with our Sanromé Terre Alfieri. Made with organic grapes, it has the classic pear quality, along with some lovely brightness, and even a delicate honey note layered in. I’ve found it to pair equally well with rich dishes like alfredo by offering a nice counterpoint, and also with lighter dishes where its acidity is able to harmonize.
I don’t have a cute linguistic hook for our next grape. Falanghina is a varietal mostly grown in Campania, in the south of Italy along the coast north of Naples. The Co-op carries one called La Capranera, named for the black goats of the region. While the goats faced near extinction in the 1980s, their numbers have bounced back a bit, hovering somewhere in the 2,000 – 2,500 range. The wine is crisp and light, with good acidity, and a nice mineral aspect. Somewhat similar to a Sauvignon Blanc but more floral on the nose. This florality doesn’t last into the glass, and the citrus stays a bit more vivid compared to its more famous cousin. Also, there’s a goat on the label.
So maybe let yourself branch out and take a chance on a grape you haven’t tried in a while. Or, if you prefer, stick with the classics you know you like, we’re not here to judge.
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