The term “cult wine” means different things to different people. Today’s wine from the great Ronchi di Cialla fits my definition of a cult wine, in that its “cult” is the handful of people who know that it exists. Other examples that come to mind are the long-lived gems of Château Montus, in the Madiran region of Southwest France, which elevate the rugged Tannat grape to noble status, and Barca Velha, the first “dry” red from Portugal’s Douro Valley and a hotly sought-after collectible made only in exceptional vintages. These wines are appropriate company for Ronchi di Cialla’s Schioppettino, a benchmark wine from a non-mainstream region crafted from a grape variety that had nearly gone extinct. For all its proven excellence, its obscurity is such that back vintages can still be found in circulation at incredibly reasonable prices.
Today’s ’99 is a serious “deep cut” from this legendary estate: It’s in pristine condition and oozes authenticity, reminiscent of aged Northern Rhône Syrah crossed with Left Bank Bordeaux. Ronchi di Cialla isn’t merely a wine estate but a kind of Friulian wine museum, credited with rescuing not just Schioppettino but a wide assortment of other native varieties from oblivion. For those of you who, like me, are already in the Cialla cult, this one is a no-brainer; for everyone else, this is a landmark Northern Italian red in its golden years. It’s the best mature wine value I’ve seen in a long time.
When I first started visiting Friuli, Italy’s northeasternmost region, in the late-1990s, the most talked-about red wines among consumers were Bordeaux-style blends crafted from Merlot and the Cabernets; among producers, on the other hand, the excitement centered on once-forgotten local grapes such as Pignolo and Schioppettino. In the case of Schioppettino—bottled evidence of which was scarce up until very recently—the producer credited with spearheading its revival is Ronchi di Cialla. I’m a sucker for a good “rescued from extinction” story, of which there are plenty in Italy, but frankly, there are instances when I question whether the effort was worth it. Not so with Schioppettino, especially in the hands of the region’s acknowledged master.
“Ronchi” is the plural of a Friulian dialect word meaning “hillside,” and it is seen on more than a few Friulian wine labels (sometimes in its singular form, ronco). Cialla is the name of the small hamlet where this historic property is located, not far from Udine within the Colli Orientali del Friuli DOC appellation. Alternately known as Ribolla Nera, Schioppettino has been the signature achievement of the Rapuzzi family of Ronchi di Cialla, who first purchased the estate in 1970 with the mission of showcasing indigenous grapes. Back then, Schioppettino vines were so scarce that the variety wasn’t even recognized by law as an “authorized” grape, but Dina and Paolo Rapuzzi sought out plant material wherever they could find it and eventually grafted more and more vineyards over to the grape. Their first ‘commercial’ vintage of a varietal red from Schioppettino was 1977, and its success inspired others in the region to work with the variety. Nevertheless, it’s hardly a grape you see in wide circulation: Beyond Ronchi di Cialla, I can think of only a handful of Schioppettinos in any kind of significant distribution in the US market.
Dina and Paolo Rapuzzi’s sons, Pierpaolo and Ivan, have since joined the estate, which spans nearly 30 hectares of vineyards and includes not just Schioppettino but other indigenous Friulian varieties such as Ribolla Gialla, Verduzzo, and Picolit. Their wines are very traditionally made and held back for significant periods before being released into the market. This ’99, of course, is a library selection sent direct from the winery to its US importer.
Although it still boasts a relatively youthful garnet-red color, the wine is ready to enjoy right now, after a brief decant to separate it from sediment. It is concentrated and brackish, with a goodly amount of brick orange at the rim, while the aromas are clean but loaded with lots of “secondary” notes of cured wood, tobacco, roasted meat, and dried figs. The fruit component skews toward the darker end of the spectrum, with notes of blackcurrant and blackberry mixing with scents of lavender, violet, tar, turned earth, and a distinctive cracked pepper note that calls Côte-Rôtie Syrah to mind. The tannins have been sanded smooth, and even at this age the wine has enough acidity to feel lifted and energetic on the palate. It is medium- to medium-plus in body, and has gained a layer of meaty savor that again smacks of Côte-Rôtie—old-school, Patrick Jasmin-type Côte-Rôtie, pointed up with some Cabernet-like cassis notes and a little Mourvèdre-like lavender. Serve it in Bordeaux stems at 60-65 degrees after a brief decant and pair it with a hard-seared steak drizzled with pan sauce. Some wines are jazz, some are rock and roll, and some, like this one, are deep, thumping funk. Don’t miss it!
