SommSelect Editorial Director David Lynch found today’s Barolo Riserva to be at its best three days after it was first opened. This is a classic, tightly coiled Barolo that promises a big payoff to those who are patient enough to cellar it.
I feel like this wine should come with a soundtrack for when you first pour it into a glass (or better, a decanter)—something deep, dark, and ominous, like the theme from “Jaws” or the first few bars of Led Zeppelin’s “Whole Lotta Love.” This is a dense, powerfully structured, single-vineyard Barolo—a riserva no less, meaning it was aged 5+ years in barrel and bottle before release—from a vintage hailed as one of the greats of the modern era. And it is, based on my recent experience with it, a bottle to lay down; sourced from the “Lazzarito” vineyard, one of the Germano family’s choicest holdings in the Barolo village of Serralunga d’Alba, this is a hibernating bear of a wine that nevertheless hints at the greatness that lay ahead of it. I opened it and then revisited the open bottle over the course of three days, and it woke up a little, revealing some of its dark-toned fruit and floral perfume after lots of air and agitation. But what I really want is to summon the patience to forget about it for 5-10 years. It is going to be a blockbuster, as sure a bet as the Lazzarito bottled by Vietti, perhaps the cru’s most famous interpreter. If you are looking for a sure-fire winner to add to your cellar, we can offer up to 6 bottles of this stunner until our allocation runs out.
And it’s not just portentous music I think about when I taste this wine now. It’s physics, too, or more specifically, the concept of potential energy—it’s the energy stored within an object, and this wine is loaded with it, by design. The Lazzarito vineyard is an undulating site in the village of Serralunga d’Alba, one of the Barolo villages known for its deeply mineral, more powerful styles of wine. Today’s wine is sourced from a southwest-facing plot in Lazzarito totaling less than a hectare, where the vines were planted in 1931. Soils are a classic Serralunga mix of calcareous marl and sandstone, and elevations range from 320-360 meters. By law, Barolos with the riserva designation are aged a minimum of 62 months before release; this one spent 36 months in 2,000-liter oak barrels and another two years aging in bottle before it went on the market. Like I said—power by design.
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 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.” Sergio’s Lazzarito clearly reflects its place of origin in terms of structure, but its tannins are refined, not rough. Whereas most 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).
That said, I’m inclined to go with ‘handsome’ over ‘pretty’ here: This wine spent a whopping 50 days macerating on its skins during fermentation, and its structure is substantial. In the glass it’s a deep ruby moving to garnet and slight orange highlights at the rim, with an aromatic profile that starts out resolutely brooding and mineral: wet stones, tar, licorice, and leather eventually give way to dried black cherry, blood orange peel, damp violets and roses, coffee grounds, and hints of herbs and tobacco. If you want to get a read on it now, decant it 2-3 hours before serving in large Burgundy stems at 60 degrees, preferably alongside a well-charred ribeye or a hearty braise as in the attached recipe. Otherwise, find a plum position in your cellar for it and don’t touch it again until 2022 or thereabouts. And in 2030? Well, I for one can’t wait. But I’m going to try. Cheers! — D.L.
