Back in the early 1980s, when Fontodi’s “Flaccianello della Pieve” was created, the Chianti Classico DOCG regulations did not allow for ‘varietal’ wines from Sangiovese. So, despite Flaccianello being a pure expression of Chianti’s signature grape, from what would surely be a Grand Cru vineyard if Chianti had such rankings, it did not say “Chianti Classico” on its label.
These days, it carries a regional geographic designation, or IGT, but back then, it had to be released as “table wine.” The same was true of another iconic Sangiovese from the Chianti Classico region: Montevertine’s “Le Pergole Torte.” These are two of the greatest pure-Sangiovese wines ever made, and, being a Chianti Classico partisan, I always delight in reminding people where they’re from. Flaccianello della Pieve has long since ascended into the rarefied world of “collectible” wine, so to acquire a small cache of perfectly stored magnums—from the landmark 2010 vintage, no less—is a major coup. This dark, woodsy, brooding Sangiovese is known for its longevity, which the larger format bottle further enhances, and, while I’m not going to cite any critics’ scores here, suffice it to say the 2010 was very well received. To me, this is one of the most important “super-Tuscans” of them all because of how resolutely Tuscan it is. It’s an epic wine I wish we had more of, but as it is we can offer just one magnum per customer until our tiny supply disappears.
Flaccianello della Pieve is the creation of a real gentleman of Italian wine, Giovanni Manetti, whose family first acquired the Fontodi estate in 1968. The Manettis were successful tile-makers, supplying most of the curved, terracotta roof tiles seen on churches and countless other edifices around Florence and Siena, and Fontodi has grown into one of the most beautifully appointed—and well-situated—wineries in Tuscany. Located just south of the Chianti Classico village of Panzano, on the eastern side of a brilliant amphitheater of vineyards known as the “Conca d’Oro” (“golden shell”), Fontodi’s holdings include a south-facing Sangiovese vineyard once attached to a local parish church, or pieve, which gave this wine its name. Although it was originally a ‘single-vineyard’ bottling, Flaccianello della Pieve is now a multi-vineyard selection of the estate’s best Sangiovese fruit in any given vintage. Its élevage (aging regimen) has evolved as well: These days, it ages 24 months in new French oak barriques of Allier and Tronçais oak.
But, since its inaugural vintage (1981), Flaccianello has always been a “modern” wine—richly concentrated, more deeply colored than most ‘varietal’ Sangiovese (largely due to small-barrel aging), and quite polished. It was one of the first Sangiovese-only bottlings of the “super-Tuscan” era, which, for the most part, was dominated by more international styles of wine incorporating grapes such as Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. For a wine from Chianti, which was historically known for leaner, more rustic styles of Sangiovese, Flaccianello was something of an outlier, and a revelation—a varietal Sangiovese every bit as powerful as anything from Montalcino, which by the 1980s was enjoying a meteoric rise in popularity.
Yet while it doesn’t lack for power, or polish, Flaccianello has nevertheless retained its nerve, not to mention the notes of wood smoke and underbrush that define Tuscan Sangiovese. A hardcore purist might taste this wine in its youth and proclaim it too oaky and “modern,” but the secret to Flaccianello is time—as this 2010 demonstrates beautifully. Yes, 2010 was an especially balanced, everything-in-its-proper-place vintage, but Flaccianello has a track record for longevity—and for being an unmistakable wine of place besides. Today’s bottle, taken from temperature-controlled storage, and just now starting to turn the corner into its peak drinking window, pours a lustrous deep ruby with garnet reflections, with heady aromas of
amarena cherries, blackberries, red and black currant, oiled leather, black pepper, turned earth, warm spices, and a hint of balsamic. By Sangiovese standards, it rates as full-bodied and quite palate coating, albeit with lots of tension and some coffee-ground tannins that will continue to resolve over the next decade-plus. If you decide to open your bottle soon, decant it at least an hour before serving in large Bordeaux stems at 60-65 degrees, taking care to pair it with a truly super-Tuscan dish. This might, in fact, be the occasion to get hold of some wild boar, as you’ve been threatening to do these many years now. Rest assured, though, that this is a critically beloved, cellar-worthy treasure that will reach its 20th birthday with ease (and likely its 30th, too). I sure wish we had more. Enjoy!
