Four Whites From Friuli and One Red From Calabria

Italian vintner Venica & Venica's covers Italy's boot from tongue to instep.

While most of its bottlings are white from the Collio section of Friuli, in the northeast corner of Italy, near the Slovenia border, it also produces a beguiling red from Calabria. The winemaker Giampaolo Venica recently hosted a tasting of his line on the outside patio of The Modern restaurant, where a couple of his wines are regularly poured by sommelier Belinda Chang.

Venica & Venica wines are grown on 28 hectares over seven hills in Collio that boast, according to Giampaolo, 55 different micro-climates.
Both Chang and Giampaolo told me that the winery holds by the "Ronco Del Cero" Sauvignon Blanc as its best, and signature, wine. Which I (and Chang) found somewhat odd, since another Sauvignon Blanc, "Ronco Delle Mele," was the real stunner. An amazingly tropical trip of tart orange, lime, lemon, resting on a bed of chalky minerality and wrapped in bracing acidity, it drank like a superior New Zealand S.B. (In a blind tasting, I would have sworn it came from that country.) Cero was in the same ballpark, but seemed less stunning, simpler, less bright than the Cero. I would be totally happy with the Cero at any meal—until presented with the Mele. At which point I would switch.

Of the other whites poured, the Friulano was full, with tangerine and lime flavors; and the Pinot Grigio "Jesura" was well above the average PG from almost anywhere else in northwest Italy. But the most interesting wine on the table was arguably the Terre di Balbia "Balbium" 2008. This is V&V's only bottling from Calabria, made from 20-year-old vines of the native varietal Magliocco. Magliocco was once widely planted in southern Italy, but is almost extinct today. Bottled after a year in old casks, Balbium is 14.5% alcohol, but tasted much lighter. It has a rich, musky nose. Medium-bodied and wonderfully drinkable, it tastes of plum, dust and cherry, the texture somewhere between silky and sandy. A wonderful food wine, I'm guessing.

The Friuli Wines of American

I wrote a small item for Tasting Table last week about a tight group of American winemakers with whom I share a passion for the white wines of Friuli. There are only four that I know of in the U.S.—Abe Schoener, George Vare, Christopher Tracy and Steve Matthiasson—so it wasn't difficult to become acquainted with them and their wines. These wines are not for the novice drinker. They challenge you and make you think more than relax. What else can you expect from a white wine that looks orange and tastes like a red?

As Matthiasson pointed out (and I was not able to fit into a 200-word article), there are differing schools of thought among Friuli winemaker. The whites that spend a lot of time on the lees, or get buried in the ground in amphoras—think the wines of Gravner and Radikon—get the most attention. How could they not? They're bruisers, yeasty and tannic and provocative. But there's another, subtler school of white, strongly mineral but crisp and refreshing, that are best represented there by Schiopetto and Villa Russiz, and over here by Matthiasson Napa Valley White.

Of the wines I list below I most strongly recommend the Channing Daughters Rosato. Unfortunately, it seems to already be sold out.

Tough Love

A small-but-fierce group of winemakers embraces northern Italy

It's easy to embrace the popular kids.

In the wine world, they're well-known regions like Bordeaux and Burgundy, which have plenty of American winemakers crafting bottles in their likeness.

But for the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region in northeast Italy--known for its idiosyncratic, niche pours--acolytes are harder to come by.

Among its small-but-vociferous ranks are California vintners George Vare, Abe Schoener and Steve Matthiasson, who discovered Friuli's white wines on a trip together in 2005. Since then, the trio has experimented with native Friulian varietals and unorthodox aging methods, which have yielded robust, yeasty white wines. They are exceptional in their eccentricities.

Christopher Tracy, winemaker for Bridgehampton's Channing Daughters, is another Friuli fanatic. He's fingered Long Island's climate and soil as ideal for the production of Vino da Meditazione, a thickish, cerebral wine that has been called the best white offering in America.

Sometimes the difficult ones come out the best. Here are three bottles that make for a good introduction to Friuli, American-style:

2009 Channing Daughters Rosato di Refosco ($19) A rare and delicious rosé, this bottle is light and creamy with hints of almonds and strawberries (click to buy online).

2008 Matthiasson Napa Valley White ($32) Dominated by Sauvignon Blanc and Ribolla Gialla, this flinty, crisp wine smacks of lemon, pear and light stone fruits (click to buy online).

2008 Scholium Project The Prince in His Cave ($43) Abe Schoener's flagship bottle is a crash course in on-the-lees orange wine: tangy, spicy, yeasty and a feast for those with an adventurous palate (click to buy online).

In Praise of Movia

I just polished off a bottle of Movia's Lunar 2005 and was reminded how much I like this maker's wines. They are pungent, mineral-laden, rich and full of character. Oh, and did I mention I'm talking about the whites?

Movia is a Slovenian winemaker that has been in business since 1820, but which in the past 10 or 20 years has raced to the forefront of the winemaking revolution in and around the Friuli region in northeast Italy. (Yes, Movia is strictly speaking across the border in neighboring Italy, but it possesses vineyards in Italy and is almost always grouped with the Italian makers of Collio. The wines are even carried at Italian Wine Merchants.) Winemaker Ales Kristancic keeps it natural and biodynamic. He leaves his whites on the lees for two years inside small Slovenian oak casks, and never racks the wines. The result is wines so dark and rangy and of the soil that casual wine drinkers don't even recognize them as white wines.

But they are wonderful wines. The Ribolla Gialla has a superb minerality and chalkiness. The Lunar, which is also made from Ribolla and is not filtered or tainted with chemicals, was so potent it shared characteristics with cider (the color) and beer (more than a hint of hops on the nose and palate). It is a ripe wine is ways other the fruity, which is what we tend to think of when we hear the word ripe.

I wonder sometimes why Movia wines are not more popular than they are. They're easy enough to find, at least in New York. It could be the price. They start around $25 or so. Perhaps the unusual grape varietals put people off. Or the fact that it comes from Slovenia, which must sound like a joke to some folks. Then again, the wines are so unusual there's no telling if the masses would take to them if they did try them. Americans have progressed a lot over the past 10 years, but they still don't seem ready for the the steely, mineral Friuli wines. Ah well. More for me.