SommSelect Editorial Director David Lynch exults over the mix of fresh fruit and sea spray in this quintessential “island white.” This is a special wine from a special place.
Right after I get done saying how much I like to drink Barolo during the dog days of July, this white from Caravaglio comes along and ruins me for reds for the rest of the summer. If there’s a better evocation of sea and sun, I’ve yet to taste it—this 2016 Malvasia Bianca from Antonino Caravaglio, grown on the Sicilian satellite island of Salina, mixes the floral, slightly tropical aromatics of the Malvasia grape with the volcanic, saline minerality of its Mediterranean birthplace. One sip and you’re off to the fishmonger (or the dock) to get something just-caught to pair with it; this wine alongside any white-fleshed fish slathered in a lemon-caper butter (capers being Salina’s other big export) is what I want to eat/drink every day now for the foreseeable future. Recently arrived and bursting with freshness (not to mention surprising depth), it is yet another example of our commitment to drinking genuinely special wines at every price point. Do not miss this!
Salina is part of the archipelago of seven volcanic islands (others include Lipari and Stromboli) off Sicily’s northeast coast. Steep-sloped and sparsely populated, with whitewashed seaside villages sitting at the base of giant, vine-draped craters, this is where you go for the best seafood of your life; caper berries the size of walnuts; and grapes from vines never blighted by phylloxera (volcanic/sandy terroirs proved resistant to the louse, which ravaged Europe at the end of the 19th century). The most famous Aeolian wines are the sweet, dried-grape nectars from Malvasia, which are labeled Malvasia delle Lipari DOC regardless of which island the grapes come from. Delicious, salt-kissed dry whites (like this one) are also made from Malvasia, along with reds from a trove of different grapes.
Although Nino Caravaglio “officially” founded his cantina in 1992, his family has cultivated vines and other crops on the island since the 16th (16th!) century. His vineyards have been certified organic almost since the winery’s creation, with 37 acres on Salina. The island’s arid climate and cleansing breezes make Caravaglio’s commitment to natural farming that much easier; mold and disease resistance are not big issues here, and the exceedingly good health and cleanliness of the fruit enables Caravaglio to keep added sulfur to the barest minimum.
This bottling, aptly named “Infatata” (“enchanted”), includes an image on its label of a single, triangle-shaped vineyard, called ‘Tricoli,’ which climbs up the side of an ancient volcano. The grapes from this site are hand-harvested and sorted in the vineyard, then fermented on indigenous yeasts in stainless steel tanks. It spends just three months resting in tank before bottling, and here we are—a bright, floral, saline white that hints at both Spanish Albariño and French Muscadet but adds an extra layer of intrigue. Malvasia Bianca has a more floral, tropical aromatic profile and a slightly waxy texture reminiscent of some northern Rhône whites, and this Salina-grown interpretation brings all of that to the table along with that sea-air salinity. In the glass it’s a deep yellow-gold, with aromas of orange blossom, acacia honey, white peach, preserved lemon, green herbs, and caper brine. The wine is very tactile, starting out lush and fruity then buttoning up on the finish with mouthwatering acidity and minerality. This is a young wine that’s meant to be drunk that way, so I’d encourage you to jump right in: Serve it in all-purpose white wine stems at around 45 degrees, and, as noted above, get some petrale sole or snapper—or, for the ultimate in authenticity, look for some little red mullets—and whip up a lemon-caper butter and maybe some sautéed broccoli rabe to go with it. Or check out the attached recipe from the inimitable Ottolenghi. You’re bringing the Mediterranean to you here, and you’re going to love it.
— D.L.
