SommSelect Editorial Director David Lynch is back with a Barolo from Ettore Germano, undoubtedly one of next wave of Piedmontese wine collectibles. This 2012 is an excellent introduction to the house style and a worthy addition to any well-chosen cellar.
In my twenty years traveling to Italy and studying Italian wine, I’ve been lucky enough to meet many Italian wine icons—many of whom are no longer with us. There was the gentle Amarone-master Giuseppe Quintarelli from the Veneto; the gentlemanly Livio Felluga from Friuli; the Yoda-like Giulio Gambelli in Tuscany. And Piedmont? Barolo and Barbaresco, like Burgundy, was like a hall of legends: Bartolo Mascarello, Giovanni Conterno, Teobaldo Cappellano, Valentino Migliorini (Rocche dei Manzoni), Alfredo Currado (Vietti)…all of these now-departed giants were ably replaced by a new generation, but there are also many new-generation Barolo-makers whose history in the region is just as rich but whose ‘brand’ has yet to achieve icon status. Sergio Germano is one of these. The wines of Ettore Germano are, for me, part of the next wave of Barolo legends. Twenty years from now we should see these wines in auction catalogs and exclusive wine dinners. I know I’ll be seeing them in my cellar (or at least my glass, should my cellar-building ambitions not come to fruition). I guess this is my long-winded way of saying: Ettore Germano Barolo is a name you need to know.
The Germano family has been growing grapes in the village of Serralunga since 1856, their original family ‘seat’ being a piece of a cru vineyard called “Cerretta.” Although they made some wine, they were growers first, selling grapes to other producers until fourth-generation proprietor, Sergio—who, in classic Piedmontese fashion, still honors his father, third-generation Ettore, on the label—got out of enology school in 1985. Since the early 1990s, the family has focused solely on estate-bottling from its 10 hectares, including single-vineyard Barolos from the Cerretta, Prapò, and Lazzarito crus (all of which are in Serralunga).
What I appreciate most about Sergio’s Barolos (not to mention his Dolcettos, Barberas, and everything else he makes) is how they are clearly “modern” wines that haven’t lost their soul, or “typicity.” In Serralunga, one of the Barolo villages with a higher percentage of sandstone in the clay/marl soils and a more westerly aspect to the vineyards, wines are known for having more power and tannic grip. Sergio’s Barolo clearly reflects its place of origin in terms of structure, but those tannins are refined, not rough. Whereas some Serralunga Barolos are driven by a very steely, savory minerality, Germano’s also tacks on a pleasing layer of dark, ripe fruit and floral aromatics. He manages prettiness in a place known for power (not unlike another Barolo/Barbaresco icon, Bruno Giacosa).
No doubt you’ve heard people speak of Barolo wine in starker “modern-versus-traditional” terms, to the point where there would seem to be two opposing ‘camps’ at work. It’s really not so black and white, and never really has been. Old-school Barolo in the 1950s and ‘60s started with a very long maceration of Nebbiolo grapes on their skins during the initial fermentation—typically a month or more. Sometimes these fermentations might have occurred in giant wooden vats (eventually to be replaced by stainless steel), but the aging almost exclusively occurred in large wood barrels that had been re-used many times. “Traditional” Barolo, thanks in large part to those long macerations, was fiercely tannic (so designed for long aging), fairly light in color (long macerations tend to destabilize the wine’s color, and Nebbiolo is light-hued to begin with), and quite earthy. Obviously these wines were often magical, but many producers in the ‘70s and ‘80s sought out a “cleaner,” slightly more accessible style of Barolo by shortening macerations, “green harvesting” fruit to deliver more ripeness to check Nebbiolo’s high acid/tannin, and aging wines in newer, smaller barrels (including French oak barriques, which continue to prompt howls of protest in some corners of Barolo-land, as they are believed to impart too much “wood” character to a wine whose chief appeal is its perfumed aromatics).
I would call Sergio’s Barolos a perfect melding of modern and traditional. First off, they are clean (some old-school Barolos are funky in a way that isn’t ‘terroir’; these are off flavors imparted by dirty old barrels or unsanitary winemaking). Some of the single-vineyard bottlings are aged in smaller barrels, but across the lineup, the oak is applied judiciously. All told, you might say these wines represent an evolution across the whole of Barolo, in which the ‘middle road’ has become the one most taken.
This wine, from the cool-ish, middleweight 2012 vintage, is Germano’s “base” Barolo, combining younger-vine fruit from the estate’s three Serralunga vineyards. It was macerated on its skins for 20 days during fermentation (some producers opt for less, some for more) and it was aged for two years in 700-liter, mostly used barrels (much bigger than the 225-liter barrique but much smaller than the 50-hectoliter
botti some producers still favor). In the glass it is a relatively robust ruby red, while the nose leads with a little riper, fruitier note than many Barolos: black cherry and blackcurrant jump out first, followed by rose petal, violet, pomegranate, fennel seed, tar, leather, and crushed stone. The palate is medium-plus in body, with a pronounced minerality and iron-shaving tannins, but a very energetic, viscous core of fruit remains. Still young and compact, it is nevertheless quite long and floral on the finish, and with a rough decanting and about an hour of air, it blossoms pretty nicely. There’s no doubt, however, that it will really shine about 5-7 years from now when the tannins have a chance to resolve a bit. If you’re enjoying this now (I’ll advocate for opening one now and saving a few for later), serve it in Burgundy stems at 65 degrees, and be sure to aerate it well. A food pairing, of course, is a must: given the wine’s powerful structure, use these fatty braised
short ribs as a foil. The amount of aromatic complexity and power this wine delivers, at this price, is hard to match. I can’t wait to see what the future holds.
— David Lynch
