Re: Albino Rocca, I can’t recall the mix of oak in the cellar, but I’ve a vague recollection it was just that - a mix of sizes.
The wines were very good across the range and definitely not showing any excess of oak. Interestingly on the day we visited, the tasting room had a selection of wines from around the vinous world, from a tasting they’d hosted the night before. I’m generally reassured that winemakers taste widely. That might feel wrong to someone who is firmly traditional, but there is always plenty to learn, in what (when we taste) comes across as a success or a failure.
Robert–that’s all well and good, and I get what you are saying, but that’s not how the wines tasted to me when Sylvia showed them the time before last that she was in town. Yes they are beautifully made wines, but different to me than most any other Barolo because of the way that they are made. I’ve had them intermittently from 1990 on, and while they are always very good wines, they are never what I’m looking for in Barolo. and in talking with Sylvia at least as of a year ago, they have no plans to change the style.
Robert, with all due respect, wowing somebody like Asimov, who (a) knows next to nothing about top Nebbiolo producers, their wines and their histories, (b) mails in sloppily written AFWE polemics most of the time, and (c) turns in puff and fluff pieces that somebody puts him up to the rest of the time (keep track of post NYC La Paulee articles very year, and see if you think Asimov actually wrote them), commands little respect among serious wine drinkers and collectors. (Asimov should rightfully go down in the history of wine journalism as the guy whose lack of due diligence inflicted Ray Walker, the man and the myth, upon the world.) Personally, the derivative musings of Asimov, FloFab and a couple of Asimovish NYC somms will not make the case for Altare. I could pick apart the linked article, but the following quote, which is rather conclusive on Asimov’s ignorance of the fact that 2001 and 2004 are on every Nebbiolo lover’s short list of classic vintages that followed in the wake of 1996 and should not be touched now (well, save maybe Altare’s?), will be enough said:
“The 1996 vintage was a classic, and I still don’t think the best are ready, though the wines from softer years like 2000, or excellent, less austere years like 2001 and 2004, can already be enjoyed.”
(Full disclosure: I am not an Asimov fan. And Robert, you need to put that away, or at least use it on your silly assertion that a panel of established Nebbiolo traditionalists somehow declared Altare’s wines to be classical without a hint of oak. That speaks to inadequate palates and inexperience, not to a “something has got to give” moment with me.)
BUT…
On the other hand, I completely respect your first proposition, which is that Altare’s wines can indeed be beautiful wines on their own terms, and that is the message that Altare’s fans, including some reviewers, tend to convey. I have no problem with that. For me, there is simply too much great, ageworthy, traditional Nebbiolo out there, and too many producers with long and distinguished track records of reflecting the very best that particular vineyards can produce, without Elio Altare’s manipulative and idiosyncratic approach to winemaking. For others, obviously, there is plenty of room for Altare’s wines in their cellars.
There is perhaps one other element in play here, which is your love of Burgundy. I love Burgundy as well, second only to Nebbiolo, but I find that many wines from La Morra vineyards, which are generally the most Burgundian Baroli (at least early in their lives), are too light and delicate for my taste, and much less reflective of site than, say, Monfortino, Cappellano’s Pie Franco, Monprivato and many others. That is absolutely a personal preference and bias of mine, but if you put the mature La Morra wines of Altare and Roberto Voerzio up against the best mature examples from Serralunga, Barolo and Monforte, the reasons that the latter are preferred, and continue to attract new fans every day, becomes clear.
A final, related thought: there is no question that most modernists have eased off of the pedal and grasped the error of their philosophic extremism. There is also no question that many traditionalists have cleaned up their cantine and adopted some equipment and techniques that one could call modern, so it is central to the building of a new myth (to replace the myth that Modernists vs. Traditionalists was tantamount to the American Civil War breaking out in the Piemonte). The lines become blurred, we all sing “Kumbaya” in Italian and guys like me can be burned at the stake instead of the witches that Robert suggests that I hunt. (The strawmen that he accuses me of creating would make a nice fire, though.) Problem is, things are not that simple. Generational change has had as much to do with changes in Piemontese winemaking in recent years as anything. Look at the list: Roberto Conterno; Aldo’s boys; Bruna Giacosa (gulp!); Gaja’s kids; MT Mascarello; Augusto Cappellano; Marta Rinaldi; Silvia Altare; Valter Fissore; I could go on for a while. The increased cash flow from a spike in the popularity of Piemontese wines, which became relative bargains vis a vis insanely priced Bordeaux, Burgundy and Cali Cabs, drove the facilities upgrades among traditionalists, not sudden admissions that the modernists (who had already begun tucking tail and running for the Slavonian botti) had some good points after all.
Maybe the Nebbiolo machine is moving toward some centrist accommodation; I very much doubt that, unless the bias is decidedly traditional, but it will take a very long time for us to truly know. In the meantime, I will choose to remain suspicious of the all-things-to-all-people approach of a Suckling, or the approach that Galloni takes on Vinous. I understand that he cannot ask the likes of Altare, Rivetti of La Spinetta, the Scavinos and other oak-bombing modernists to pony up big cash to fill the empty seats at La Festa without serving up some big numbers, blurring the historical lines between traditional and modern and, most importantly, trying to make the case that he is moving their wines off of retailer shelves in the U.S. Wherever we may be headed, however, it is relatively clear where we have come from, a time of sharper lines and stylistic distinctions, and that is what makes a project like Pat’s so important: regardless of what style of Nebbiolo-based wines one may prefer, it is important to understand who made, and makes, those wines in one’s favorite style and from one’s favorite vineyards. I am proud to have logged some time with Pat on the front end of this thread, and delighted with what he and a host of contributors have done since…
I agree. My threshold for oak is different to others and the ‘nuance’ described above can be too overbearing. My assessment is based on my personal tasting. I don’t begrudge those who love that style but neither should those who love it feel aggrieved towards those who don’t appreciate it.
Sorry about the * use, it automatically pops up when you type strwman correctly; not voluntary…
I’m not trying to posit Asimov as some type of exceptional palate or reviewer or journalist, it is just a data point of somebody’s opinion (or a handful of heads tasting things and saying, “we like this and it didn’t fit the stereotype-hype”).
I get it, some folks don’t care for the Altare wines. And that’s fine and good; tous les gouts sont dans la nature.
I just object to bashing them in absolutist terms, as opposed to it being a matter of personal preference. One man’s freakshow is another’s wife. :0
As to my Burg centric palate, that is very much a factor in my personal taste and preference. I work with Sottimano as well, often referred to as a particularly burgundian vinifier.
However, the Altare Cerretta is a Serralunga powerhouse of a wine, and tastes true to that place. Have you tried the '08-‘10 Cerretta? Pretty rockin’ juice. The Cannubi is from Barolo (if i’m not mistaken…). So a theory that it is all about a softer la Morra style of wine loses some application when looking at those two bottlings that are both profoundly good Barolo wines that are representative of their origins, and not idiosyncratic freakshows.
As to sensing any oak at all, that isn’t what i’m after. I’m NOT presenting the case that all of the Altare wines have zero sensible oak. Asimov happened to mention that about the '10 DOCG (which sees 20% less new aok than the Arborina, Adrian). DRC sees 100% new oak every year, and you can sense that if you drink it upon release. But people aren’t railing about DRC being some kind of freakshow. It is understood that the wines are made for a longer haul appreciation. Somehow in Burgundy, the continuum of producer style is accepted as everyone in the same forest, made from the same trees. This stylistic labelling fragmentation seems to be a particularly Piemontese phenomenon.
I agree that providing details is awesome and can greatly contribute to understanding producer style. I can see the great merit in compiling a whole lot of details that folks can reference PROVIDED that they actually do look at the details. My fear is that people wouldn’t actually look at the details. Like a lot of labeling, it can allow us to dumb things down to oversimplified versions, easier to discriminate. I personally think that the Trad/Mod paradigm in Piemonte has sort of become that way, with trad=good and mod=bad, even if folks try to qualify that it isn’t a judgement of quality.
I very much appreciate the dialogue, gents.
Altare is a newcomer to Cannubi and Cerretta. Yes, I have tasted the wines. Put them next Fenocchio’s Cannubi and G. Conterno’s Ceretta and you can understand my assertions of the presence of steroidal winemaking and the absence of place. All of Altare’s wines of late are big, oaky, overextracted powerhouses, and therein lies the problem. Earlier, his treatment was mostly only too much oak and too much manipulation for too-delicate fruit. I will try not to call anybody’s significant other names, however, unless I intend “freakshow” as a compliment!
I am glad that you riffed on the “Burgundian” point, because I think that it is important to the understanding that Pat’s work is helping to foster. Many La Morra wines of both stylistic bents, and even more Barbaresco vineyards, not to mention many individual Giacosa wines over the years, have exhibited what most would deem Burgundian qualities, notably lighter and delicately perfumed wines in the early going. On the other hand, great Burgundy and great traditional Nebbiolo tend to converge after long aging, and become more alike than different, to the point that either can be an effective ringer for the other in a tasting (provided that the Nebbiolo is not possessed of too strong a tell-tale tar element). I prefer the latter to the former, because I want the Burgundian perfume and complexity in secondary and tertiary splendor after 20-50 years, not 5. I also find La Morra wines to be less ageworthy, which surely appeals to some but is a net negative to a collector who seeks the qualities that I do and has either patience or access to old Nebbiolo.
The problem with your DRC point is that DRC grand crus in particular, and Burgundy Pinot Noir in general, have demonstrated that they can take the oak; it has been rather conclusively proven at this point that Nebbiolo cannot, at least not to best effect, save in the light, highly controlled, highly judicious applications seen in wines like Sandrone’s Cannubi Boschis and Gaja’s Sperss, Sori’ San Lorenzo and Sori’ Tildin, where dissipation of any hint of new oak is all but guaranteed in time. It is the most significant difference between the two grapes and two regions that are otherwise more alike than different, I think. Also, as I tried to convey above, it is important to understand all aspects of a given new-oak regimen…the type of oak, the toast, the size of vessel, the time that the wine spends in the vessel. After all, all oak is necessarily new oak at some point!
I hear you about absolutism, but for me, the greater threat is the kind of slush-brain thinking that I see on the Vinous board and which Galloni promotes in order to keep his leaky boat afloat and to attempt to be relevant to the retail community: the “it’s all good” approach, the canard that the modernists have been wrongly criticized (do you ever hear traditionalist fans whine because somebody points out that there have been too many dirty traditionalist cellars and that there is too much bottle variation in Bartolo’s wines?) and the notion that modernism-traditionalism is but a happy continuum. As traditionalists have upgraded their facilities and modernists have moved away from their more extreme and unsuitable practices, perhaps we are now moving toward something closer to a continuum, with a smaller, more centrist stylistic range (like Burgundy, eh?), to the benefit of all Nebbiolo lovers, but the range reflected in Pat’s work suggests that we have not arrived yet, and that there is no harm and a lot of potential good in drawing clear stylistic distinctions.
Thanks Bill. This is exactly the kind of constructive dialogue that is useful and informative for all.
I hear you on all of your points above…I agree that centrism is becoming more common than the extremes, and that there is useful application to the list Pat and others have contributed to here. Like I said before, my only fear is that the casual Berserker will only see the boiled down label ascribed to the house style and make judgements based on that. We haven’t even touched upon the primary importance of ACTUALLY TASTING THE WINES.
:0
I personally am not an idealogue. I like to fancy myself as someone who can appreciate a multiplicity of different kinds of beauty. I love Bartolo Mascarello and Altare. That is possible and ok, right?
As to whether or not the Altare wines (and la Morra wines in general) can handle the oak for the longer haul and positively evolve over the long haul, i’ve seen a handful of older bottle tastings pop up on Berserkers where the 1990 Langhe Arborina (100% new wood) is preferred over Giacomo Conterno and a few other traditionalist darlings…I know, bad move if I can’t point out the specific threads, but they’re out there, somewhere…I also had a 1990 Giachini with Giovanni Corino that was an absolutely stunning bottle of Barolo no matter which way you slice it, no overt oakiness at all, and no wilting flower there. All that i’m saying is that any absolutism needs to be tempered with concrete examples for or contrary to any personal perspective on the potential longevity or nobility of a given producer/village etc. Wine always has the last word, very much in spite of our prognostications or preferences…
Out of curiosity, if you’d care to comment Bill, what is your perspective on Steve Tanzer’s palate and “it’s all good” approach?
Robert, at some point, I had to take a stand against those who prefer the tastes of vanilla and oak to the taste of wine. Parker gave us a generation or two of such folks, too insecure and too lazy to educate themselves and drink anything other than what Parker recommended. If Parker was followed only for Bordeaux and Cali Cabs, the outcome would not be fatal; there is virtually no such thing as unoaked Cabernet/Merlot-based wines in either of those regions. On the other hand, following Parker for Burgundy and Nebbiolo-based wines would, for the most part, ultimately be a disaster, given his extreme biases and ignorance of the wines of those regions. Thankfully, he bowed out of the latter two zones a long time ago, largely ignored if not reviled in Burgundy and his influence having faded quickly enough to allow others to offer more balanced views of Nebbiolo-based wines. I see nothing incompatible with respecting the right of those who are not seriously interested in learning about fine wine to drink their Kendall-Jackson sugar-and-oak Chardonnay-based thirst-quenchers, while at the same time railing against their judgment and taste! I think that those making the effort to learn about wine deserve to hear what is clearly the dominant opinion among the hobby’s most knowledgable and experienced drinkers. (By the same token, the novices and dilettantes are free to call the knowledgable all sorts of dirty names…and they do!) Against that backdrop, there is still room for anyone so inclined to show Clerico, Altare, Scavino and the other “Barolo Boys” all the love that they care to. The only place that I draw the line on that is that I do not want to be told that those guys are making top-notch traditional Nebbiolo, because that is simply not true. I am fine with those who, for whatever reason, do not like or understand traditionally made Nebbiolo, or lack the patience (or storage space) to allow such wines to mature.
I have not seen anyone favoring a 1990 Langhe Arborina over a Giacomo Conterno Monfortino or Cascina Francia in a long while, but I say with some confidence that that would be unlikely to happen if the Conterno wine in question were fully mature and properly prepared and aerated to allow an apples-to-apples comparison. In my experience, most people with no wine background at all tend to be able to choose the better wine under those circumstances, unless there is a mild addiction to oak. I suspect that the experience of too many novice Nebbiolo drinkers is often limited to immature bottles when traditional wines are involved, and there is nothing surprising about that. (By the way, I myself enjoyed many bottles of Renato Corino’s 1990 Rocche d’ Annunziata back in the day. By his own humble admission, it was the finest wine that he ever made, and he offered to trade me a 6-pack of his 1996 edition for every bottle that I could find for him of the 1990. These things happen, even to me! In that case, however, it took a wine where the power of the fruit supressed the oak treatment, and one which was a terrific food wine to boot.)
As to brother Tanzer, several thoughts. First, I believe that he genuinely made the effort to give every style of wine its due, be it Barolo, Cote-Rotie or Cali Cabs, and given that fame and fortune never drove Steve, I could always take it for what it was worth. I am not sure that he ever failed to disclose that oak-dominated wines were so dominated, so in his case, you really did need to read the notes, which were not the gibberish that Parker, Galloni, Suckling and James “That’s A Mouthful Of Wine!” Laube crank out, nor Neal Martin’s “hints of linden flower and marzipan” notes, written with a thesaurus and botany treatise close at hand. I do think that Tanzer, like Parker before him, has suffered palate deterioration and become ever more immune to tannins and new oak in the wines that he tastes, with the consequences of higher scores and more glowing praise for Cali oak bombs and wines like Altare’s and Scavino’s. Still, and I could be wrong, in the case of Nebbiolo-based wines, I think that the takeaway was usually “hey, this is a really well-made wine of its type” and never “this internationally styled wine kicks the shit out of Giacosa’s latest red-label offering”. His scores and notes bear that out. (He, like all wine reviewers before Galloni’s rather late arrival on the scene and singular focus on Piemontese wines for a time, sometimes came up lame on wines like Bartolo’s and Monfortino, simply because he, like the others, lacked a proper frame of reference. He had not tasted enough of those wines at age 20, 30 or 40, and thus, found it hard to give unconditional recommendations to the wines of one of history’s two greatest producers, Giacomo Conterno. He got over that once his experience and understanding caught up, as did other reviewers.) Lastly, it is important to note that, in the post-Parker era of Barolo and Barbaresco scoring, no historically modernist Barbaresco producers and only three such Barolo producers have garnered consistently high scores over an extended period of time: Altare, Clerico and Scavino. All have access to some great fruit, and two of the three have scaled back their heavy-handed oak treatments in recent years, so I feel pretty secure in where reviewer and popular taste have gone. It is a pity, though, to have had to witness Galloni selling out in such a short time, but the man has a mortgage payment to make. (NOTE: I do not consider either Gaja or Sandrone to be modernists, and even if Roberto Voerzio may not meet some technical test of modernism, his wines are, to my mind, and no offense to anybody’s spouse, “freakshows” that are terrible, soft-drink-like wastes of Nebbiolo grapes from premier sites. That is one bandwagon that only Suckling and Galloni jumped on, Tanzer awarding Voerzio only the occasional low-90s score for all of the hard work that he puts in, if he bothered to taste the wines at all.)
It’s a bit academic with regard to the Piedmont to wonder what Steve’s reviews will be like as there won’t be any. Steve has been my favorite reviewer for a while, but one must realize that he is pretty oak tolerant or oak blind (Witness his love of Clerico in the late 90’s early 2000’s bottlings, esp Percristina, which has always been oak hammered in my mind, and a relative love of what are fairly oaky Burgundies). the other thing about his reviews is that when he does think that a wine is over oaked, or over alcoholed, you have to learn to read between the lines to pick this up.
I do think that he handles the “it’s all good” approach fairly well, basically straddling the fence, even though, as I’ve said, you do have to learn to read between the lines in some of his notes. It has to be a difficult fine edge to walk as a reviewer to say what you really think, and still be allowed into a winery that you need to review the following year.
Hard to know which wineries Steve chose not to cover and those from which he may have been banned, but he did not cover several Napa wineries where only Parker and his profligate 100s appeared to be welcome, like Abreu. I would guess that Steve’s candor and conservative point-slinging may have made him lifetime leader among active reviewers for winery banishment or, better still if so, for deciding not to cover wineries whose wines he could not abide…
Of course it is possible. Part of the motivation for my efforts was to help people identify wines made similarly to those they discover they like upon tasting. I like a range of styles and own wines from the whole spectrum. Sure, some people may use it to identify the subset they care about and ignore the rest. Some dislike the very concept of barrique use and rapid maceration, others find pleasure in the early drinking wines of the ‘modernists.’ Everyone has their own palate and thus their own preferences. If the OP helps them in their pursuit of nebbiolo, I am happier for it.
Yes. Nice dense darker fruit (dark cherry). Oaky, chocolate. Aside from the oak, too extracted for my taste. as usual for me, seems like great potential if they just wouldn’t overdo the winemaking. I just learned that he smokes heavily, and I’ve always wondered how that affects the shosen style of a given winemaker.
Interesting data point, John. Several friends with decidedly traditional palates have told me that they think that the 1999 Clerico Ciabot Mentin Ginestra is the best wine that Clerico has made, and one that appeals to them. It sounds like you saw the upside there as well, but also oak and overextraction.
I still have a couple bottles of the '90 Clerico CMG in the cellar - I probably don’t drink enough Clerico to offer a truly qualified opinion, but the last time I had it, that wine was drinking very well.
And with the caveat that it was a baby when I tried it, I have very high hopes for the 2004 Perchristina.
And Robert, you need to put that 
away, or at least use it on your silly assertion that a panel of established Nebbiolo traditionalists somehow declared Altare’s wines to be classical without a hint of oak. That speaks to inadequate palates and inexperience, not to a “something has got to give” moment with me.)![[rofl.gif]](/uploads/db3686/original/2X/a/a7452fcd8e675af869f8da01174474a545b03944.gif "rofl"){kind=small}
![[cheers.gif]](/uploads/db3686/original/2X/0/0ff9bfcdb0964982cd3240b6159868fbdf215b1a.gif "cheers"){kind=small}