SommSelect Editorial Director David Lynch is back in Italy, this time in the tiny, mountainous region of Basilicata and its viticultural landmark, Monte Vulture—an ancient volcano and home to some of the greatest expressions of the Aglianico grape.
Before Sicily’s Mount Etna and its Nerello Mascalese grape became the flavor of the month on every wine list in town, another volcanic red was the southern Italian darling: Aglianico del Vulture. Unlike lava-spewing Etna, Basilicata’s Monte Vulture is long dormant, but its geologic footprint remains—as do those of other spent volcanos in neighboring Campania, where the Aglianico grape thrives. Campania’s Taurasi appellation, about an hour’s drive from the Monte Vulture area, is the most famous Aglianico-based red, nicknamed “The Barolo of the South” for its longevity and aromatic complexity. But just as Aglianico belongs right alongside Nebbiolo and Sangiovese in any discussion of Italy’s noblest red grapes, the Aglianico del Vulture appellation is every bit as important as Taurasi. This wine from Musto Carmelitano is a new-generation take on Aglianico that emphasizes finesse over force, no small feat given the grape’s reputation for burly, inky-black reds. I happen to love the burly, inky-black versions (which are still available in abundance), but this bright, fragrant, un-oaked example may be an even more impressive achievement. The level of nuance here is (a) testament to Aglianico’s unheralded versatility; and (b) not at all common at this bargain price point. For me, wines like this have been the story of our year so far—sustainably farmed, genuine wines of place that cost the same (or less) as most mass-produced “labels.” If you’re new to Aglianico, this is the perfect introduction; if you’re already a fan, it’s an intriguing new perspective. Either way, don’t miss it!
To repeat, we’re talking about the Aglianico grape del Vulture, or, “from Vulture,” the above-mentioned extinct volcano in northern Basilicata. An extremely mountainous, and relatively small, region wedged between Puglia (the “heel”) and Calabria (the “toe”), Basilicata has historically been one of the poorest and least-traveled regions in Italy. It also happens to be one of the more popular places of origin of many Italian-American families (including one branch of mine). I think that a lot of casual Italophiles have this image of southern Italy being universally flat, arid, and sun-baked, and while this is true of some places—Puglia in particular—much of southern Italy is thickly forested mountain terrain. Of Italy’s 21 regions, the one with the highest-elevation ‘capital city’ is Basilicata (Potenza). Vineyards on the slopes of Monte Vulture climb to 700 meters elevation in some places, and as such this is a relatively cool climate—providing the already late-ripening Aglianico with an extremely long growing season. It’s not uncommon for Aglianico del Vulture to be harvested in mid- or even late November (even later than Piedmont’s Nebbiolo in some instances).
From a grower/winemaker perspective, the magic of Aglianico is that it is both hardy—thick-skinned and resistant to disease—and capable of improving with age. Some similarly resilient varieties (Carignan comes to mind) never manage to shed their “workhorse” image and remain relegated to blends. Aglianico is ‘featured player’ material, thanks in large part to its aromatic profile. In comparison to both Sangiovese and Nebbiolo, Aglianico is undoubtedly a more full-throttle variety, loaded with color, extract, acid, and (often ferocious) tannin. When I first started studying Italian wine in earnest in the late 1990s, the style du jour in Vulture (and in Taurasi) emphasized Aglianico’s potentially outsized proportions—often augmenting them even further with lots of new oak. But of course, the same could be said of many Barolo wines of that time.
Traditionally (and this continues to be true in most cases), I’ve compared Aglianico del Vulture to the Malbec-based wines of southwest France; there’s a similar, often fiercely tannic structure and dark fruit profile, if perhaps less of the ‘animal’ element in the Aglianico. If this wine from Musto Carmelitano is any indication, we may be entering a kinder, gentler era.
The Musto Carmelitano property has been in the same family for generations, and boasts some incredibly old vines on Monte Vulture (some in the 80- to 100-year-old range). For generations, the family sold their grapes to others, but in 2007, Elisabetta Musto Carmelitano and her brother, Luigi, started bottling their own wines. Elisabetta and Luigi are hardly the “to the manor born” types you come across throughout the wine world. This is a small-scale labor of love: they organically farm about 32 acres of vines in and around the village of Maschito, which lends its name to this bottling (“Maschitano”).
Perhaps the most useful analogy for this wine would be the ‘Langhe Nebbiolo’ wines of Barolo—lighter weight, unembellished expressions of a complex variety (although it should be noted that, unlike the Barolo DOCG, Aglianico del Vulture doesn’t require any minimum aging period in oak barrels). The grapes for the 2013 Maschitano were harvested in late November and fermented and aged in stainless steel, after which the wine spent a brief period aging in bottle before release. In the glass it is a satisfyingly deep, opaque purple-ruby with garnet highlights at the rim. The aromatics are textbook Aglianico: black and red raspberry, cherry, black plum, and huckleberry meet a resolutely savory mix of tobacco, tar, violets, coffee, crushed stone and black pepper. One of the wine’s most distinguishing features is its fine-grained tannins and bright acidity—both can be extremely sharp, even aggressive, in many Aglianicos, but not here. This is a very savory, ‘masculine’ wine but also extremely elegant and easy to drink. I don’t see any reason to wait on this one—open it and serve at 60 degrees in Burgundy stems, allowing it perhaps 30 minutes in a decanter first. Ironically, Basilicata is known for lots of spicy dishes incorporating
peperoncino, which I would avoid here; I would, however, put it alongside anything char-broiled (or smoked) from the grill. Check it out with the attached recipe, or maybe just a good old-fashioned seared ribeye, but definitely check it out. It’s amazing how much $20 still buys, if you’re willing to travel. Cheers!
— David Lynch
