It may seem like one nation to us, but Italy views itself differently. At least many of its citizens do.
Culturally and in some cases politically, its 20 regions are as autonomous as regions come. It's like a country made up of 20 Quebecs, only without the glory of poutine.
I can remember attending, during my youth in Toronto, Italian wedding ceremonies jokingly referred to by some in attendance as “mixed marriages” because, say, a Venetian bride had tied the knot with a Calabrese groom.
The thickest imaginary border, of course, has always been between the north and the south, between the industrialized haves and the agrarian have-nots, both of which steadfastly claim Rome, smack in the centre, as theirs.
For the longest time, wine snobs saw the country in a similar way. In their view, the place effectively ended at Tuscany. Virtually all of the “classy” wines came from there (such as Brunello di Montalcino) or provinces to the north, most notably Piedmont (home of Barolo) and Veneto (the land of Amarone).
Mercifully, times change. Italy is growing into a more tolerant and united place. And oenologically the world is discovering that the south is a booming source of fascinating grapes and flavours. Most southern wines are based on indigenous grapes, with names that would perplex the average “I'll-have-a-glass-of-chardonnay” drinker.
Ever sipped a greco? You should. It may be Italy's best white grape, a specialty of the Campania region that surrounds Naples.
An ancient Greek import (hence the name), greco can taste a little like the French viognier, often with a silky texture and inviting aromatic quality that can suggest peaches, blossoms and herbs. For the record, there's a red variety called greco, but it's not as distinguished.
As part of a spotlight on central and southern Italy starting today, Vintages stores in Ontario are featuring a remarkable bargain, Cantine Manimurci Impeto Greco di Tufo 2009 ($13.95, product No. 180752). Medium-bodied, with a soft texture, the wine has a lemony flavour and hint of stone, with a pleasantly bitter, long finish. Perfect for grilled fish.
Technology has delivered a boon to the hot, sunny south, especially in the case of fresh white wines like greco. Before the days of temperature-controlled fermentation tanks, it was tough to keep juice cool in the winery – essential for white winemaking. If many of the reds tasted pruny, the whites often were best reserved for the braising pot.
Another new white star of the Campania region is falanghina (fah-lan-GEE-na), a fruity wine sometimes redolent of bananas and almonds. It, too, is splendid with grilled fish, especially shellfish. In British Columbia, look for Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2007 ($27.99, No. 634907).
Aglianico, Campania’s red glory, can produce cellar-worthy wines that rival the best Chiantis from Tuscany. The producer Mastroberardino, just east of Naples, is a master, though the wines are expensive and tough to find. The winery’s flagship Radici Taurasi, made with aglianico, may be the south’s most acclaimed red, available in British Columbia for $54.99 (No. 238188).
Incidentally, Mastroberardino is widely credited with rescuing such varieties as aglianico and greco from obscurity after the Second World War, which devastated vineyards and forced many growers to flee to city jobs.
Sicily’s nero d’Avola, often priced at less than $15, gets my nod as one of the best red-wine bargains on the planet – though in the hands of quality-minded growers, and at $30 or $40, it can be a serious mouthful to impress connoisseurs at your dinner table. Widely available in Ontario at a stunningly low price is Cusumano Nero d’Avola 2008 ($9.95, No. 143164) from one of Sicily’s thoroughly modern-minded and most reliable producers. Planeta and Donnafugata are two other widely distributed and reliable Sicilian names.
