When most wine writers approach the subject of Italian wines, they pretty much stay to a few select icons, such as Barolo, Brunello di Montalcino and Amarone.
There are some scribes that enlarge their coverage to Soave, Prosecco and a few other popular offerings. Then there's Ian D'Agata, who seemingly will not rest until he writes about every single grape grown and every wine produced in Italy. His newest book, Italy's Native Wine Grape Terroirs, is evidence of his love for Italian wines, and the result is one of the finest books ever written about the complex world of this subject.
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D'Agata, who has become one of the leading authorities about Italian wines over the past several years, goes to the nth degree when he approaches this topic. For the author, a simple list or description of indigenous grapes or the wines made from them is insufficient; rather he details the history, traditions and DNA of the country's wine landscape. His previous book, Native Wine Grapes of Italy, is a remarkably detailed reference work (right down to the national code registry number for each grape), and now his latest work goes into even greater attributes about the makeup of many of the country's wines, from the famous (Chianti Classico, Barbaresco) to numerous little-known and talked about examples (such as Tazzelenghe and Mayolet).
I mentioned D'Agata's method of incredible detail above, and while that sets his work apart from most others, it can also have its drawbacks. In the opening chapter on the thorny subject of terroir, he makes several valid points, especially how, in his opinion, the notion of terroir is somewhat fractured in Italy, as opposed to France, thanks in part to certain regulations that were put in place to identify a cru in Italy. In the author's opinion, making wine from these plots, especially ones that have not been in existence for centuries, as with many famed vineyards in Burgundy or Alsace, does not offer the same significance of terroir as do the great wines of those regions.
His text on this, as well as the problems with the DOC/DOCG system in Italy in this chapter are enlightening. But when he starts to write about molecules in wine, such as 1-hexanol or 2-hexanol, well, the text becomes a bit burdensome. There may be some who will relish this examination but, for many of us, this is a bit much. I found myself wanting to read about the best sites of Barolo and Montalcino instead; this chapter is quite lengthy and should have been more tightly edited.
Thankfully, this is the only sour note this book hits, as the author immediately approaches specific terroirs as it applies to particular varietals, ranging from Aglianico to Zibibbo. His opening chapter about the Aglianico grape is a typical one, in that D'Agata lists the best terroirs – Taurasi and Taburno in Campania, Vulture in Basililcata – and then lists the best subzones in these territories. Thus we learn that an example of Taurasi from the northwestern subzone is quite different from one made from the western subzone, due to such factors as soil, elevation and steepness of the vineyards. D'Agata describes the charactistics of the wines from several of each zone's most famous producers, and also lists the best crus and his benchmark wines from each subzone or territory.
As there is no grand cru classification in Italy – unlike many regions of France – these lists are the author's opinions but, as they are based on his numerous visits to these areas over many years, followed by comprehensive tastings, one has to respect his choices.
Chapters on Nebbiolo, Sangiovese, Fiano and dozens of other cultivars are equally impressive (his explanation of soil variations in the Barolo zone is first-rate and, of course, quite incisive). One of the best sections of the book is the author's examination of the Erbamat variety, planted in small numbers in Franciacorta. D'Agata not only explains the need for this late-ripening grape, as this area is a bit warm for the production of sparkling wine, but also details several wines he has tasted in the area in which Erbamat is incorporated in the blend. Again, D'Agata is ahead of the curve here when it comes to Italy's native grapes and terroirs.
While there are times that the author feeds us too much information, as in how many times he has visited a wine region over the years (given the specifics he provides, is this really necessary?), the book is a resounding success. Not only is this a must-read book for students of Italian wine, it's also a work I can recommend to almost anyone interested in wine in general, thanks to the author's engaging writing style. It's one thing to pinpoint soils and clones, while it's another to describe these topics in a lively fashion. Books such as this one can be a struggle to get through, so kudos to D'Agata for his approach.
For combining significant research along with a status quo report of Italy's grape terroirs, Ian D'Agata has raised the bar on the study of Italian viticulture – a hearty thank you and a highly recommended rating for his efforts.
Italy's Native Grape Terroirs by Ian D'Agata is published by the University of California Press, $50/€40.
