Today’s wine is now indelibly seared in my memory after I had the opportunity to visit the island of Salina a few weeks ago to taste it. This is what I love most about the wine business, and I was lucky to have my family with me as well; we were blown away by the physical beauty and inimitable flavors of this Sicilian satellite island, and by the charismatic hospitality of our new friend, Nino Caravaglio.
This is the kind of wine visit that makes you want to drop everything and join the party (I made a few inquiries as to vineyard and home prices on Salina), but what’s equally important is that the Caravaglio wines impress even when you’re not staring out at the Mediterranean from the slopes of a volcano. This is our second offer of Caravaglio’s marvelous single-vineyard Malvasia, “Infatata,” and I’m planning on having a case on hand for when I return to the US from a two-month European trip. Not only will this 2017 take me right back there with one sip, it will pair beautifully with anything the coming summer throws at it. This is a textural, aromatic white of real character that should not be missed!
Salina—which, if haven’t visited, is a bucket-list destination—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 villages sitting at the base of giant, vine-draped craters, this is where you go for the best seafood of your life; giant caper berries; 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 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 a pronounced 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. I find the ’17 to be a little more generous, a little bigger and rounder, than the ’16, and my inclination is to enjoy it over the near term: Serve it at 45-50 degrees in white-wine stems next to just about anything from the sea, dressed up Sicilian-style with lemon, herbs, and capers. Repeat often. This is summer wine defined! Cheers!
