Castor Membership May 2022: Medieval Manhattan and a January Journey
San Gimignano’s center, from my visit as an aspiring young musician, summer 2002.
“Medieval Manhattan”
Montenidoli Vernaccia di San Gimignano “Tradizionale”, Tuscany, Italy 2020
The first time I was in Tuscany, the wine business was a scant afterthought compared to my musical ambitions: I was studying in the fortified town of Lucca, dreams of being an opera singer furtively projecting their way through the movie reel in my mind. Back home at that point, I was working at a seafood restaurant inside a Starwood Hotel, so when the administrators of our summer study program arranged for a trip to the hillside hamlet of San Gimignano, I dutifully repeated what I’d learned at staff trainings: the vineyards ringing the hillsides around this small village southwest of Florence featured a native white varietal named Vernaccia, in stark contrast to the Sangiovese-dominated slopes of virtually every other area in Tuscany. In fact, I noted rather dorkily to my singing colleagues, of all the celebrated winemaking regions in Italy, it was Vernaccia di San Gimignano that was chosen to be the country’s first designated appellation when the Italian DOC system was introduced in 1966. We arrived at the winery and tasted through their lineup of wines-true to the area, mostly white, and as I was later to discover, quite typical of what most consumers experience in the Vernaccia grape: medium-bodied, rather anonymous texturally, green apple and bartlett pear fruit that rapidly dissipates, and the unmistakable feeling that it needs to be drunk coldy and quickly. Following my return home and resumption of/shift towards a career in restaurants and wine, I continued to encounter these “Slightly More Interesting Than Pinot Grigio” bottlings of Vernaccia, and while each time I warmly recalled my day in San Gimignano years before, the assumption that this was the best the appellation had to offer was admittedly ingrained in my mind until, years later, I discovered that there was Vernaccia, and then there was VERNACCIA, and it took a woman whose presence in San Gimignano preceded the founding of the appellation by a year to persuade me of the latter.
The vines on hillsides high above the already elevated town of San Gimignano, with its famous tower-spotted skyline in the distance.
The touristic implications are obvious, but whoever developed the moniker “Medieval Manhattan” to describe San Gimignano was right on. The “City of Towers”, as it’s also known, conjures much the same feeling of anticipation as a first glimpse of the Big Apple upon approach, albeit in a much more provincial fashion. The thirteen remaining towers are a far cry from the 14th century heyday of 72 (72 towers on this tiny footprint!), when rival San Gimignano families representing the Ghibelline and Guelph factions that Dante so eloquently waxed poetic on engaged in a kind of architectural arms race, demonstrating their wealth and power to each other by erecting pillar upon pillar of stone. Of the remaining structures that form San Gimignano’s eyecatching skyline, the Torre Grossa is the tallest, and affords spectacular views over the rolling Tuscan dreamscape that stretches southeast to Siena.
Vineyards of Vernaccia, Summer 2002.
Turning Vernaccia into something more than a quaffable cafe table white is accomplished, it turns out, by both terroir and technique. San Gimignano’s hillsides are not created equally, and there are parts of the landscape that rise to between 250 and 300 meters in elevation or more, allowing the grapes a respite from a life spent under the Tuscan sun. Reduced planting density, a spurred cordon pruning system, and strictly organic practices can produce fruit of more complexity and sheer weight, creating truly dynamic and age-worthy white wines of unexpected power. In another world, a marketing pitch might employ the phrase “not your Grandmother’s Vernaccia”, except of course that it’s a seventy-something year old woman in this case that’s performing the vinous miracle: Elisabetta Fagiuoli of Montenidoli estate.
Elisabetta Fagiuoli.
One of the true superstars of Italian winemaking, Elisabetta arrived in San Gimignano in 1965 and created Montenidoli with her husband Sergio. On a high plateau overlooking the Medieval Manhattan, the couple forged a winery out of a 200 ha space of woods and abandoned farm, creating an oasis that truly feels a world apart from even the well-worn paths of the City of Towers below. By extension, her wines are equally singular: Vernaccias that are macerated on the skins and aged in concrete vats or oak barrels, depending on the cuvee, along with astounding reds with ability to age that speaks to what is possible from an area where Sangiovese is a bit of a blind spot. The soil for the Vernaccia vineyards is teeming with marine fossils and other relics from time immemorial, when the Ligurian sea covered this part of the Tuscan landscape. Out of this rich terroir, all of Elisabetta’s wines shine, but oddly enough its the Tradizionale, the supposed “entry-level” of her offerings, that always gets me-full of dense apple and pear (now golden and bosque rather than the greener notes that are typical in other Vernaccia), with a slew of herbal and almond as well. Is it $12 on the grocery store shelf? No. Is there a ton produced? Hardly (only about 2,000 cases of the Tradizionale). But is it still a good enough value that I can present as a Castor wine, a true “home wine” that will both refresh and evoke conversation and delight? Absolutely. And that, more than any array of towers, should be the postcard that San Gimignano hangs its hat on-a warm memory of a woman who’s lived her life for this land, one that you can revisit with her in every glass-D.
Montenidoli Vernaccia di San Gimignano “Tradizionale” 2020
Country of Origin: Italy
Location: Montenidoli is located west of San Gimignano on a high plateau that faces easterly towards Chianti Classico; the winery’s Vernaccia vineyards average 250-300 meters in elevation.
Soil: Calcareous, with plentiful marine elements that I allude to above.
Grape Varieties: 100% Vernaccia.
Winemaking: Stictly organic in both the vineyard and cellar, the Vernaccia is macerated on the skins for additional structure and complexity.
Aging: The Tradizionale doesn’t age as long as its barrel-aged counterparts, but the 10 month period is spent in concrete vats lined with glass; I feel that this contributes to giving the wine a bigger, rounder texture than the stainless steel alternative.
Flavors and Foods: The ocean fossils in the soil come through immediately in a nose of aquamarine and fresh almond; it can’t be emphasized enough just how much the straw yellow color and intoxicating nose differ from most Vernaccia available in the US. The palate of the 2020 shows yellow apple, bosque pear, quince paste, and honeycomb. Vibrant acidity brings a slight spritz on the texture and balances out the darker-than-expected fruit/heavier-than-expected weight. Vernaccia like this is truly spectacular, and will make an excellent accompaniment to cooked shellfish dishes, grilled branzino with mushrooms and arugula, or with a fine goat’s milk cheese, honey, and almonds.
Service and Cellar: By now you know that I prefer my whites slightly warmer than what sticking a wine in a refrigerator is giving; with the Montenidoli, I’ll split the difference. I do like this wine with a good chill on it because I’ve noticed that the spritzy texture that I think is important dissipates once the wine warms in the glass; serve the Tradizionale just above fridge/below wine cellar temp (44-48 degrees). The nature of Elisabetta Fagiuoli’s winemaking means even her wines aged in concrete have the ability to last; the newly arrived 2020 can be cellared for 5 years easily.
The calm after the storm: Domaine Chapelle et Fils following a snowfall.
“A January Journey”
Domaine Chapelle et Fils Bourgogne Pinot Noir 2017
Winter is coming. The “Game of Thrones” tagline rings true for wine salespeople in January, as many take to the road to visit producers at a time when the crazed holiday season has passed for selling and the winemakers’ lastest harvest resides in the safety of the cellar, in relative peace. Depending on what part of the Northern Hemisphere you’re in, the wines can be doing everything from still finishing their primary fermentations to being just about completed. For artisanal, independent importers (Virginia-based Olivier Daubresse, my former boss) and their erstwhile brand ambassadors (me), life on the road of a January wine journey was often chaotic, with tasting appointments and winery visits carried out at a frenetic pace (on this particular trip for me that meant five wineries, four regions, a few random wine brokers and the kitchen sink over a 9 day period), nights in budget hotels or cramped shared apartments provided by producers to help keep the costs down, and winter weather rearing its head to complicate matters in trekking from region to region (“What do you mean, the mountain pass is closed?!?!”). Vying for your business is an important piece of each winery’s presentation, so tastings are invariably followed by myriad lunches/dinners/other feedings that start to make you feel as if you’re a lamb being fattened for some fiscal spring slaughter. And of course, as any grizzled vet of a producer tour knows, it’s often at the end of an insanely long day of evaluation and eating when the winemaker/owner/etc. will turn to you and ask, “So, how many cases of such and such can you do?” Now, I understand (and have often said to clients and guests) that this tale of wine-washed woe will garner me exactly ZERO SYMPATHY from the average Mr. or Ms. John Q. Winedrinker, but in my observation the hardest thing an importer must navigate on any wintry visit to your favorite grape growers is not so much evaluating wines which aren’t finished yet (although that skill is also the mark of a great professional) but being conditioned for battle, and that means knowing how to conduct oneself in front of many different cultures of people, how to stay focused and not allow fatigue or sentiment to cloud your judgment, avoiding falling into the trappings of an industry where unscrupulous people will use consumption as a sales technique, and when and when not to discuss business affairs. Which is why, when you arrive at yet another stop on the whirlwind tour of wine madness, meeting the Chapelle family of Santenay in France’s Burgundy region is akin to Bacchus himself opening your lungs and pouring in some much-needed fresh air.
The beautiful house and cellar of Domaine Chapelle during milder and greener times.
For a property with a beautiful house/cellar and a one-family history that dates back to 1893, there’s a much-welcome humility and hospitality that pervades Domaine Chapelle et Fils. Upon arrival, we’re greeted by Candace, the daughter of Jean-Francois and Yvette Chapelle, owners of the estate and yet increasingly ceding day-to-day operations to Candace and her brother Simon. The interior of the Chapelle reminds me more of a Tudor English manor then the French country estate it resembles from outside: high vaulted ceilings, wooden floors and stairs, and timber structure-bearings make it feel kind of like a hunting lodge with wine. Chapelle is based in Santenay, a village at the southern end of Burgundy’s Cote de Beaune. The Cote de Beaune is, generally speaking, Chardonnay country, but the chalky soils of Santenay allow for an emphasis on Pinot Noir as well, and the family makes pinot noir and Chardonnay from their home village, as well as 1er cru holdings in Chassagne-Montrachet and Aloxe-Corton. Production level is small even for a Burgundy house at just under 10,000 cases in total, which feels even tinier considering only 5% of this (less than 500 cases) is typically sold outside of France; the quantities we’ll be getting will be highly allocated, which makes the job of selecting which cuvees to take all the more exciting, like a little wine secret we can let our friends in on. Candace is a gracious host, with a sense of hospitality that is rooted in effortless kindness. Tasting through their entire range, we can see improvements made since the 2015 vintage that we first started working with: the vineyard and cellar practices have shifted even more towards biodynamics, a fact later borne out when Candace’s brother Simon takes us on a tasting tour of the cellar. Having returned from recording engineering studies abroad, Simon has instead taken up the work of his family, and the excitement of the process is clearly fueling a newfound passion within him for their business. His enthusiasm is contagious; the farther we travel into the veritable grotto of caves below the Chapelle’s home, the more deeply into details we dive. In that moment, tasting 6 or 7 samples of each cuvee and judging barrel to barrel, there’s no limit to the minutia, and despite the damp January chill that cuts through any clothing attempting to dissuade it, my mind is crystal clear-it’s as though the cellar caves robbed us all of the rest of our senses and all we have is smell and taste to go by. Two different tonnelleries divide opinion; Simon prefers the pinot noir from the famous Taransaud oak barrels, while Olivier and I enjoy the very same wines from a cooper called Meyrieux-the pinots are soft and resplendent, showing little influence from the oak they reside in. Of course, the 1er Crus stand out qualitatively, but I’m also drawn to their regional Bourgogne wine. The vineyard is just beyond the Santenay appellation and therefore can only be labelled Bourgogne, but the age of the vines is impressive for a regional wine (44 years when were were trying them, 46 currently) and the resulting samples are full of bing cherry and a mercury-tinged crudo element that for me is a hallmark of pinot noir from this far south-the wines are lighter than their Cote de Nuits counterparts but have a very engaging savory element nonetheless. The plain south exposure of the Bourgogne vineyard allows it to ripen even during uneven vintages, and the challenging year of 2017 that we try from bottle later floors comparable examples tasted from other producers.
Any port in a storm: a solitary foggy tree in the Cote de Beaune.
As we make our way back out of the labyrinth that is Domaine Chapelle’s cellars, I’m careful not to turn the wrong way and either bang my head on a doorway not meant for a grown human being circa 2020 or just plain get lost and have to test my subterranean global cell service. Simon is still on a high from our feedback and Olivier’s correct suggestion that the domaine is headed in a great new direction. Stepping out into the fog and chill of another January journey, I’m just glad that we’ve met a family so obviously steeped in togetherness that, for one day at least, it made being away from our own a little more palatable-D.
Domaine Chapelle et Fils Bourgogne Pinot Noir 2017
Country of Origin: France
Location: Chapelle is located just outside of the village of Santenay in Burgundy’s Cote de Beaune.
Soil: Calcaire with a type of peaty sand that the French call “sablonneaux”.
Grape Varieties: 100% Pinot Noir.
Winemaking: Manual harvesting of the grapes. The Bourgogne Rouge is made respecting bio methods, which are controlled and certified by the French organization Bureau Veritas. The wine is cold soaked for 5 days pre-fermentation, then the fermentation process is carried out over the ensuing 10 days in steel tanks.
Aging: The Bourgogne from Chapelle is aged for 12 months in steel tanks; there is no fining or filtration done to strip the wine of any flavor/structure.
Flavors and Foods: A delightful nose of strawberries and cream; this wine has improved in the bottle since I first tasted it two years ago and has softened considerably. Mild cured ham (the rare and silky Mangalica for me) presents itself after the strawberry along with rocky mineral, and all three of these characteristics echo on the palate. Raspberry is added to the red fruit bonanza at first taste, before the mid-palate gives way to non-fruits of the aforementioned cured meats (now more earthy) and just a whiff of smoke that recalls you having your favorite woodfired cooking device going just right. The finish is of a medium length, to be expected in Pinot Noir of this ripeness level, but what’s unexpected is the slight grip that accompanies the back of the palate; for me a welcome showing that even at the Bourgogne level this wine has can have some staying power in your cellar. Pair the Chapelle with spatchcocked whole chicken on the grill, seasoned with simply with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, or with seared tuna dusted with Asian spices. The wine also makes a good match with washed-rind cheeses such as the regional Epoisses as the smoke and acidity cut through the richness of the cheese nicely.
Service and Cellar: As mentioned above, the Chapelle Bourgogne is both delicious now and can be cellared for another 3-4 years; the freshness of the fruit, acidity, and tannin will all calm down with more time, but I for one am enjoying the wine too much now to be overly thrifty with opening it. The Bourgogne 2017 wants for a cellar serving temperature of 57-60 degrees; so pull directly from your wine fridge or give it 10 minutes in the refrigerator from room temp should wine caves be in short supply at your house.