Recently I had a long conversation with a young wine professional. Currently they’re sommeliering in a very exclusive hotel which has a restaurant with a quasi – Italian flavor. This person believes in taking deep dives into wine countries at their own expense, in order to further their knowledge and education and love for wine, which is part of their livelihood. Imagine that – spending your own money to learn more about wine?   Look, I’ve known wine buyers and sommeliers who really didn’t have much interest in Italian wines over the years. I remember telling one that they should try going – they might have their minds changed. One, I knew, dipped their toes into Italy with a free junket to Prosecco-land. It was a start. But there were always more interesting places for them to go to – France, South Africa, Argentina – more exotic, and of course, no charge. It was as if Italy were this indecipherable, non-linear, complicated jumble of regions and wines and opinions – duh. That was often enough to put off the most left-brained of wine-experts-in-training. But for people like the young somm above and myself, it is a ticket to an endless parade of characters – rich stories – unpredictable wines at times – but always somewhere a great meal and a beautiful cache of scenery. San Benedetto del Tronto I bought my own ticket, dozens of times. Spent my own dime. And one place where I kept going back was to the Marche/Abruzzo regions. Marche, because a good friend lived there on the coast, bordering Abruzzo. And Abruzzo, because twenty minutes away, the vineyards called. So, let’s take a trip into the time machine and go visit some of the early white wine experiments coming out of Abruzzo in the 1980’s and 1990’s – let’s see where we were – not just where we think we are today. Some of it might be surprising to those who think they “discovered” all of this. Well, I’m not here to humble anyone (they proclaim often enough how humbled they are anyway on their socials, they don’t need me beating that drum). Still to say, there might be one or two of you out there who enjoy history. Let’s open up that book. I’m going to concentrate on one winery – Illuminati – which is in Controguerra, a village built upon the hills of Teramo. There are other wineries there who have garnered adoration among the trend followers of wine, some of it deserving. But Illuminati is where I spent my time watching the evolution of Abruzzo wine, red, white, rose, sparkling and sweet. We’re going down the white wine rabbit hole today. Trebbiano d’Abruzzo – the basic building block of white wine in Abruzzo in the 1980’s. It was really all we knew. Pecorino was emerging. Passerina was in the field blends, for sure. But everything was called Trebbiano. It was a high-acid wine with a neutral character – great for quaffing down with a fritto misto at the Chalet Federico on the beach at San Benedetto del Tronto. It was cold, crisp, light and dry. Period. If someone threw down a plate of linguine with those sweet baby clams that come out of the Adriatic near San Benedetto, all the better. It seemed to work well in places like Houston, who had a larger Italian-American population than Dallas, where I lived. But we found folks who got to know and like the wine. Stanley Marcus was a regular at a place in Dallas, La Tosca, and he enjoyed the wine when he wasn’t imbibing on La Scolca Gavi di Gavi. But the wine evolved. It picked up fruit. Cold fermentation techniques made the wine brighter and more polished. It was like a chunk of marble, just waiting for the sculptor to carve into it. Which the winemakers at Illuminati did. Let’s look at some of them. Nicolino – not quite pétillant naturel, more like pétillant capricieux, Nicolino had a mind of its own. The wine was originally sealed with a cork, and then changed to a crown cap ( like beer bottles) to seal the liveliness of the wine inside. I remember once I was dining at a friend's restaurant and he had a few cases of Nicolino in the back room. We heard a pop, banging sound, and rushed to the back room. The cork had popped and blasted completely through the cardboard case, which in those days might not have been as rigorously constructed as they are today. But, nonetheless, it made that wine a very hard sell. Probably not today, though. It would be a self-disgorging darling of the Tik-Tok somm-set. They wouldn’t even have to saber the wine – it was auto-sabering. Talk about social media opportunities for the “Look at me!” sommelier community. Nicolino went away – an experiment that did not succeed, sadly. Next up – Ciafré. I loved this wine. It was a blend of Trebbiano, Passerina, Riesling, Chardonnay, among others. It was an experiment. And some of the oncoming wines into the eventual portfolio of Illuminati were still young. So Ciafré was the petri dish. And what a dish it was. I likened it to a what a Meursault might taste like if it was made by an Italian in Italy with Italian grapes. That sold it to the restaurants. They were looking for something they could put on the list for $40 in those days. Ha – now $40 will get you a couple of glasses of mediocre wine at many Italian spots I have found my way into recently. Anyway, the wine was friendly. It didn’t stink of oak or acid or any off putting aromas. It was floral without being a Far-Niente wannabee. No butter. Just grapes in balance and harmony – medium bodied and alcohol in check. It was brilliant with meaty white fish, like Halibut or Grouper. It stood up to a veal chop famously. I miss that wine. The winery no longer makes that wine too. Evolution in Abruzzo – it’s not something new. It’s been going on for generations – ok Zoomers? Cenalba – originally intended as an aperitif wine (Cenalba, pronounced "chin-al'-bah" means “the dawn of dining”) this came out as an unoaked Chardonnay from young vines. Eventually it became a Controguerra DOC, and the wine did well enough – but not great – so to the wastebasket of history it went. Daniele – Amber wine lovers would have loved this wine when it first came out. It was tinged with this saffron hue that gave the wine a look of gravitas. Finally – a wine like the Valentini Trebbiano, which was a grail wine for Zampognari’s (according to cellarmaster Agostino, “those who sang the praises of Abruzzo wines back in the day”). There was a lot of hope for Daniele – I personally loved this wine. It was rich, full-flavored, had an amazing quiver of aromas and flavors indicative of the  land of Controguerra and the Teramo hills. It was my unicorn. Thankfully, the wine is still being made. Predominantly Trebbiano, with a smidgen of Passerina and Chardonnay – they haven’t veered too far from the original recipe. When this wine gets “discovered” I’ll be sorry to see it show up on a wine list in NY or Dallas for $600, much in the way I now lament seeing the prices of Pepi whites so out of range for everyday wine lovers. Of course, all one needs do is go to Italy where the prices aren’t geared only for the economic elites. Still, I lament. Last wine and a p.s. of sorts – and that is the Illuminati Loré – which was a Trebbiano ( and Sauvignon) based wine – the vines of which grew in an area where the noble rot was active – botrytis – so, a dessert wine. I have a 375ml bottle remaining in the cellar from the 1990 vintage. It is now the color of a Madeira. Gorgeous. Wonderful with blue cheese or foie gras. And yes, a meditation wine for sure. Happily, the winery still makes this wine . So, three out of six isn’t bad.   And finally…. There’s nothing wrong with a junket, especially if you have a thoughtful group and a leader who keeps the trip on mission. I’m all for it. But I would encourage wine lovers, especially those who aspire to master wine, to invest in your future by taking your own time and money and digging even deeper. There are stories out there – there is knowledge – there is wonder – and there is your future- just waiting for you to discover it – Italy is an open palm, just waiting for you to take it, hold it, squeeze it, and reward you with strength and support.       © written and photographed by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Not long ago, an erstwhile colleague recounted a story they had while making an Italian wine presentation. The account was a tony Italian-styled eatery that had recently changed wine buyers, so a meet-up was de rigeur. The  person who oversaw the wine lists was Gen-Z’ish in age and predilection. My confrere was discussing Tuscan wines, with the new buyer. The subject of international varieties came up. You know, things like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and grapes like that, which also grow in Italy. This was an all-Italian wine list, and whether we like it or not, diners come in looking, at times, for wines they know and recognize. Like Cabernet Sauvignon. The young overseer interrupted him and said, “Italy doesn’t make good Cabernet or Merlot. The place for that is Napa Valley.” Ok, so no Masseto? No Sassicaia? (said restaurant is in a high net-worth neighborhood) My friend then asked them about Super Tuscans. “Not my thing.” Dismissed again. So, as the meeting came to an end, and my friend was getting up to leave, the wine buyer asked him, “But do you have any orange wines?” You know, under the Italian sky, there really isn’t anything that hasn’t already been invented, or tried, somewhere in past days. I have a box of labels to prove it. So, I dragged it down out of the closet to take a peek at some of the soldiers who fought in wars of past. Some made it, some didn’t. Let’s visit with them. For the most part, I am restricting myself to Tuscany, with a brief foray into nearby Lombardia (next week), beginning with white wines. Probably most famous of all is/was Galestro. There was a big push by  the producers in Tuscany for a white wine of equal standing with Chianti – A White Chianti they would whisper to me. And it seemed Galestro was the heir apparent. The word Galestro is meant to describe a type of soil. If you want to know more about that, I’d refer you to Monty Waldin’s site here: https://chateaumonty.com/galestro/. Galestro the wine – there were high hopes. I remember going to a wine dinner in Tuscany where all the producers of Galestro were present for a dinner highlighting the wine. All the wines were there too, about nineteen. The wind up is after we all sat, for hours, eating and sipping on all of the Galestros, the consensus at the table was that there probably wasn’t much future for the wine Galestro. Indeed, within years the wine vanished. Sorry, Gen-Z wine buyer, you might  have loved it. But it was DOA before you were BORN. I bought some for the company I worked for. Fortunately I had a client who bought it all, or else it would have been an FCO (Future Close Out). Another hopeful white was Bianco Vergine Valdichiana. It’s still around, so it could still be “discovered” by the 21st century folks. Forty years ago, it was a tough nut to crack.  Predominantly Trebbiano, which is a current darling among the Orange-istas. But then it was vapid and not terribly interesting save for the fact that it was white, could be chilled and used as a substitute for water in dire situations. It was, after all, 88% water. So we could survive on it. But the wine buyer crowd wasn’t interested. They wanted that international variety, Chardonnay. And Italy, then, wasn’t as forthcoming with Chardonnay as it is now. This one from the old owners of Avignonesi ( they’ve since sold and decamped to Puglia) was an attempt. And we failed. I wish the Gen Z crowd had been there- they probably would have liked it, as it was high acid, indigenous, prone to refermentation (or Frizzante Naturalmente). And with a few months of age, the Malvasia and Grechetto in the blend would turn yellow, or the now fashionable l'orange. Speaking of fizzy wine – Pét-nat is all the rage with the kids these days – so lets take a journey into the time machine and revisit one. In Tuscany we had this one product called  Le Bizze – We sold it by saying “Le Bizze is the Fizz!” it didn’t go over well with the Boomers. But now it might be Lit AF. It was naturally fermented, so it would fill the bill for frizzante, or pét-nat, maybe even metodo ancestrale. Anyway, it flopped too, in the 80’s. No one was having any tantrums over not getting any. I guess you had to be there. One last white – one that is still around – Montecarlo Bianco -   @ professore_usa, who is a wine collector and expert extraordinaire, recently posted a picture of an aged (1978) Montecarlo Bianco with the description “Infinito.” A white (now aged to amber) wine 46 years old. Unthinkable. Yet, infinite. Fascinating. Anyway, I had a client in Fort Worth, Texas, who loved (and probably still loves) this wine. I brought it in from Mayflower Imports in Washington DC. We all, apparently, have fond memories of this wine. I wish our young wine appropriator could discover this wine for their generation. We’d probably never hear the end of it. Oh wait, we (the old ones) are going to die soon anyway, so it doesn’t matter. Party on, Garth!   Next week – Part 2 - Abruzzo   © written and photographed by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W