The Italian Wine Label, or “What the hell is this?”
This topic has to be one of the most asked about in all of wine, at least in my experience. The average Italian wine label can be a bit confusing, and some of the more extreme examples are nearly hermetic. Now if you’re holding out hope that I am somehow going to give you the secret decoder ring for Italian wine labels, I regret to inform you that unfortunately, such a thing does not exist. For those are you who have spent some time in Italy or have Italian friends, you know that Italians, much like many Americans, are independent and individualistic nearly to a fault. Two Italians do indeed often produce three opinions. And ironically, at the same time, Italy is also infamous for its beaurocracy. This tension leads directly to fractiousness and frustration and ultimately, a big vaffanculo to both Italy’s governing bodies as well as everyone else. These wild contradictions are one of the elements that make Italy such an exciting place, but is simultaneously the bane of those who want to know what it is that they’re looking at on retailers’ shelves.
Now if you REALLY want to know what the best way is to better understand Italian wine labels, my advice is to learn how to speak Italian, and no, I’m not kidding or being flippant. As good as the Italians are at so many things, marketing has never been one of them. When asking Italian winemakers about the confusion that so many have with their labels, the most common reaction is one of wonderment or confusion. They just don’t get it. Obviously, Italian is their language so all of the words really mean something to them on a very basic level - they can easily sort out place names from vineyard names from producer names from grape names etc. Further, so many Italians are so deeply steeped in the wine world that they simply cannot extract themselves from this immersed state into the shoes of the Italian wine neophyte. And those who DO get it are so afraid that any attempt at label reorganization and reformation, once it came out the business end of the Italian Parliament, might further worsen the situation, so they balk.
The first, and really only GUARANTEED regularized information on an Italian wine label is the NAME of the appellation from which the wine comes, and the (theoretical) quality LEVEL that this appellation has been awarded. So, grab a bottle of Italian wine, and locate one of the following “quality” level rankings:
- Indicazione Geografica Tipica (sometimes abbreviated as IGT)
- Denominazione d’Origine Controllata (sometimes abbreviated as DOC)
- Denominazione d’Origine Controllata e Garantita (sometimes abbreviated as DOCG)
Now the distinctions between these three classifications is broad enough for another article entirely, but suffice it to say that the basic things that these laws govern are geographic locations/delimitations, permissable grape varieties, and perhaps most importantly, permissable yields. Basically, IGT is the most “permissive”, DOC is in the middle, and DOCG is the most strict. Another very important thing to remember about these classifications is despite what the progressive restrictions would seem to imply, moving “up the ladder” from IGT to DOC does not in any way guarantee or even suggest an improvement in overall quality, and the same is true from the jump from DOC to DOCG. There are as many TRANSCENDENT IGT wines made as there are PITIFUL DOCG wines made…the best guide to quality in Italy is the PRODUCER…but I digress…
Once you have located the “quality” levels outlined above, in nearly every single case, THE NAME OF THE ACTUAL APPELLATION IS LOCATED DIRECTLY ABOVE. That, regretably, is about the only SURE THING on an Italian wine label. The label locations of producer name, vineyard name (if applicable), grape variety (which in some cases ALWAYS appears on the label, and in others, NEVER does), or even proprietary name. (Italians are famous for giving particular blends unique names - this can apply to both the most off-the-wall, not-characteristic-of-the-zone IGT blend to a STRICTLY delimited wine like Brunello or Barolo - the former could be called “Stone Well” and the latter something like “Herbie” - there is ZERO restriction with these proprietary names).
As I wrote this piece, I thought about including some sample labels to illustrate the variations possible on Italian wine labels, but as I thought about it, I didn’t see the point of showing example after example about how with Italian wines, the exception is the rule…what would that do to clarify? So, I decided to list some commonly encountered terms on Italian wine labels, and more importantly, to INVITE YOU TO WRITE IN WITH SPECIFIC QUESTIONS ON SPECIFIC LABELS that I can clarify on a case by case basis. In the end, if you don’t speak Italian, and with no comprehensive standards, the only real way to get a feel for what one is looking at on Italian wine label is to explicate a large number of examples, and hope for a sort of intuitive coalescing of understanding. Here goes:
Abboccato - off dry
Annata - vintage year
Azienda - literally means “company” If followed by “vinicola”, the producer buys in grapes. If followed by “agricola”, the producer grows his own grapes
Bianco - white
Bricco or Bric - Northern Italian dialect word for hill
Cantina - another name for a winery
Cascina - farm
Cerasuolo - the traditional Italian name for rose`
Classico - the most traditional production zone or style for a given appellation
Consorzio - Consortium; a group of growers that meet to set standards and promote an appellation
Dolce - sweet
Etichetta - label
Fattoria - another word for farm
Imbottigliato - bottled
Invecchiato - aged
Liquoroso - fortified wine
Novello - “nouveau”; a very young, fruity wine
Podere - a small farm; think “plot”
Poggio - hillock
Pozzo - well or spring
Produttore - producer
Riserva - a reserve wine; a wine that exceeds the aging standard for the appellation
Ronco or Ronc - hill
Rosato - another word for rose`
Rosso - red
Secco - dry
Superiore - an extra quality distinction either referring to a higher alcohol level or a special zone within a zone.
Suri` - A Piedmontese dialect word for a south-facing slope
Tenuta - yet another word for farm
Vecchio - old
Vendemmia - literally “harvest”. Also used to refer to vintage
Vigna - vine
Vigneto - vineyard
PLEASE SEND ANY FURTHER SPECIFIC QUESTIONS ON ITALIAN WINES LABELS, AND I WILL POST THE ANSWERS!
TOM CIOCCO
“Fruity” - What does it mean to you?
…real short post today…This is another very frequently miscontrued wine term, and I’m STILL not sure why the confusion exists…
Anyone who works in a wine shop has the perpetual job of describing the aromas and flavors of hundreds of different wines. We freely use descriptors like, “cherry laced”, “leathery”, and even “honeyed” in describing aromas, and “structured”, “smooth”, “fresh” and “fruity” with regard to mouth feel and flavor. Now about half of the time that one drops the “F word”, the customer says “Oh, I don’t want anything sweet”. And of course we are all quick to point out that at least when WE use the term “fruity” we mean “showing the primary aromas and/or flavors of FRUIT, i.e. fresh strawberries, prunes, pineapple juice - the obvious and sometimes less than obvious flavors and aromas that derive from all manner of fruits.
So why do SO MANY people still hear “fruity” and think “sweet”? I really don’t KNOW the answer to this question, but it seems to me that this disconnect is rooted in some euphemistic marketing copy from days of yore (I have noticed that most of the folks who read “fruity” as “sweet” are north of 40). Most folks who have only a cursory acquaintance with the wine world believe that “serious” wines are dry and sweet wines are for the novice…to me, the term “fruity” was coined to take what was determined to be the stink that had been put on wines like Mateus Rose`, White Zinfandel, and Asti Spumante off of their shoulders by replacing the word “sweet”, which had always triggered such connotations as “treacly”, “syrupy” and “saccharine”, with the more imagistic, and less pejorative word “fruity”…
Any ideas how “fruity” came to mean “sweet” in describing wine? Does anyone actually KNOW FOR SURE why this crossing of meanings has occured? Post away!
TOM CIOCCO
Pisco - A Spirit worth fighting for
Pisco is not a “household” spirit outside of its homeland, and that is a real shame - it’s as “clean” as vodka, but far more flavorful, it “mixes” with the best of them, but is a very fine beverage to sip on its own, and it has as much individual variety as either Cognac or Armagnac, but (at least for me) is FAR more palateable.
So straight to inevitable question: “What is Pisco”? I’m glad I asked…Pisco is a type of brandy that is produced in Peru and Chile (and a BIT in Bolivia as well). It is, like grappa, “water white”, and has it’s origins in the grape vine, but there all similarities end. Pisco, unlike grappa, is always made from WHOLE grapes (not the vinacce [skins, seeds, and stems] from which grappa is derived), and very specific ones at that. Pisco MUST be made in traditional copper pot stills (and NEVER in the “continuous stills” that are often used for vodka production). From this point, Peruvian and Chilean Pisco productions diverge…let’s look a little history first…
Now of all of the bones of contention between Peru and its neighbor to the south Chile, Pisco might be the most serious. Each country claims the beverage as its national drink, and the production of Pisco has a long history in both places. The controversy is quite understandable if you take a peek at the history. In about the year 1530 (the rough era from which Pisco springs) both what is now Peru and Chile were united under the aegis of the Viceroyalty of Peru. Right about this time, Peru’s Spanish colonizers began to plant vines in what is now the Ica province of southern Peru. Shortly thereafter, vines were planted further south in what is now Chile. Originally, these vineyards were planted to produce wine for local consumption, but more importantly for expert back to Spain. And until 1641, when wine exports to Spain were banned as a protection for the native Spanish wine industry, most of these grapes were destined to be turned into wine. But the ban forced growers to find a new purpose for their newly-found glut of fruit, and while Pisco had been made prior to 1641, it’s production boomed after that date. The original, and still the most important grape variety from which Pisco is made (especially in Peru) is called Quebranta, a now profoundly mutated variety of Spanish origin, though the exact variety from which it is descended is still unknown.
This brings us to the Peruvian/Chilean divide. In a large nutshell, here are the features that characterize each country’s version of the spirit:
PERU
Peruvian Piscos are divided into four subvarieties:
Pure - “Pure” Piscos must be made from only one variety (which is usually Quebranta) but other Peruvian varieties like Mollar and Common Black are also permitted. “Pure” Pisco is often considered to be the refined and elevated type of the drink
Aromatic - Aromatic Piscos also are permitted to be made from only one variety, but this variety must be of the “aromatic” type: the multitude of Muscat sub-varieties in addition to some rare hybrid aromatic varieties like Italia and Torontel. These are declining in popularity in Peru since the production of Chilean Pisco is almost exclusively associated with Aromatic varieties
Green Must - The most “basic” type of Pisco. Made from partially fermented musts. These types are quite strong and rustic in character.
Acholado - Acholado Piscos are the newest style. These can be made from a blend of aromatic and non-aroamtic grape varieties.
The other regulations governing the production of Peruvian Pisco are quite simple but strict and clear nonetheless: Peruvian Pisco must be aged for a minimum of three months in completely neutral vessels such as steel or glass or any other material that will have no effect on its color or flavor. Further, no flavorings or infusions may be added to any Peruvian Pisco, and all production must be bottled at “still proof”, i.e. no reduction or augmentation of alcohol levels are permitted in any form.
CHILE
Chilean Piscos are also subdivided into four categories, but these according to alcoholic strength:
Regular - 60-70 proof - This light, sweet and often a bit coarse in character
Special - 70-80 proof - Special and Reserve are sweeter, darker, and stronger than Regular Piscos
Reserve - 80-86 proof
Great - 86 proof or above - Great Pisco is more pungent than any of the other types, and is a bit less sweet as well. These types are often quite woody in flavor.
As was mentioned above, nearly all Chilean Piscos are made with aromatic grape varieties, mostly varieties of Muscat. There is no prohibition in mixing the varieties used in any way the producer chooses.
Very different from Peruvian Pisco, those from Chile must be aged for a short time in oak casks (which gives Chilean Pisco its characteristic yellowish color) but many “Great” Piscos are left to age in cask for longer periods of time.
Also, the alcoholic strength of Chilean Piscos can be altered by either raising their alcoholic strength by employing distillation rectifiers, and similarly may be reduced with the addition of water (though presumably this is little done since, at least in theoty, higher proof Piscos are finer).
Let me be very clear in stating that the rivalry between Peru and Chile regarding Pisco is intense to say the least. The two countries have been suing an counter-suing for generations over who owns the rights to the name, the production norms, and everthing else you could imagine. And this friction extends far beyond the sphere of beaurocrats and producers - heated arguments and even bouts of fisticuffs have been known to grow out from the two camps, each believing the other to be missing the point on Pisco.
In my view, and I can already see the ugly comments from Santiago already flying my way, Peruvian Pisco is the the more “authentic” product, and the one that really deserves to bear the Pisco name if indeed only one nation is permitted to do so. Peruvian Pisco is cleaner, less manipulated, and better defined than Chilean Pisco, and for my taste, much more interesting and less coarse than Chilean Pisco, but clearly, this is a matter of taste.
So after all these (thankfully for you, much abridged) regulatory norms, what does Pisco taste like? The first word that I’s use is “surprising”. On first look at Pisco, spirit lovers will (before tasting it, for sure!) begin to compare it to grappa. Let’s be clear about one thing about Pisco: it is NOT grappa. Not even close. In the glass (and apart from the Pisco Sour, good Pisco is always drunk neat at room temperature) Pisco is “water white”, with a slightly viscous, “oily” texture, and SEDUCTIVELY SMOOTH. The aromas vary according to grape variety, but Quebranta Piscos are often said to have aromas of ultra-ripe plums and a certain “reedy” aroma. Piscos made from Muscat and its variants possess the characteristic citrus zest and floral aromas associated with this family of grapes.
For me, Pisco is one of the most palatable and refined spirits IN THE WORLD, far more interesting than most any rum (and lighter for sure), and beacuse there is no barrel aging, less “demanding” than any Cognac or Bourbon or Whiskey. In fact, Pisco is well known for having very little alcoholic pungency and “bite” and the very best ones are SO smooth they seem more like soft drinks than spirits! This is no exaggeration…many folks upon meeting a bottle of Pisco for the first time have gone from zero to looking up at the spinning light fixtures from the comfort of the floor inside of an hour’s time. The stuff is so smooth, fascinatingly scented, and “sweet”, most people can quickly forget that this stuff is as strong as vodka or gin but without any of the “don’t tread on me” warnings that these two spirits dole out with each swallow. One further bonus with Pisco is that all but the most rare examples, Pisco is never very expensive - almost always less than $25 for a 750ml bottle.
Unfortunately, Pisco is not easy to find (and by law, we cannot sell spirits online, so I’m forbidden to even link to the ones that we carry here at WL) especially if you’re not in an area where there is a decent concentration of South Americans. Nevertheless, I recommend that if you are a spirit drinker, that you get yourself to the best liquor shop in your area and grab a bottle if they’re stocking one, and if not, keep your eyes peeled for the stuff in your travels. Drink Pisco and fight the good fight.
TOM CIOCCO
Wine Allergies - facts and fictions
Following in the line of musings written on “winedrinker’s misconceptions” comes this little piece…
Perhaps the single most common complaint/request tandem regarding wine heard in this or any wine shop is “I’m allergic to sulfites. Do you have any sulfite free wines”? Now just for the record, I am not a physician, and since this is the case, I have not done any actual physical exams or any battery of allergy tests on this or that drinker, but in learning the science, it is MORE than safe to say that 99% of people who think that they are allergic to sulfites in fact are not. We’ve all read in passing, perhaps hundreds of times, the “Contains sulfites” advisory on the backs of wine labels emanating from every region in the world, but what are these substances, and why are they in your wine?
The first thing to make clear to all wine drinkers is that SULFITES ARE A NATURAL PRODUCT OF WINEMAKING. No wine, unless it has undergone a process to definitively REMOVE all traces of sulfites in its midst, contains sulfites, no exceptions. More sulfites are ADDED to finished wines since the presence of sulfites in wine prevents oxidation, and therefore makes an effective hedge against premature aging (for the wine, not you). So why is it that most people are not/could not be allergic to sulfites? First, the complaints that I’ve heard are almost always directed at RED wines, and sometimes, somewhat comically, red wines from specific places - I’ve heard on more than several occasions “Spanish wines give me headaches” or “Burgundy makes me sneeze”, or similarly, “The wines in (country “X”) never make me sick when I’m there, but I can’t drink them here.” Now it is POSSIBLE (and I stress the word “possible”) that wines that are destined to be carted to the little trattoria just down the road from the winery are made differently than those that are slated to be shipped thousands of miles across the seas, but I think there’s MUCH more psychology than physiology afoot in such claims…
Now chemically speaking, sulfites are most effective as a preservative when they are present in wine in a free, UNBONDED form. And because many grape acids eagerly want to form bonds with the added sulfites, and also because white wines are almost always more acidic than red wines, more sulfites have to be added to white wines to overcome the X number of milligrams of sulfites that have been rendered less effective via bonding with the acids. And because white wines nearly always contain HIGHER levels of sulfites than reds do, one would be much more likely to complain of headaches from white wines than red. What’s more, SWEET white wines are always even more heavily dosed with sulfites than dry whites are. This extra heavy dosage is done to retard a pontential second fermentation of the high levels of residual sugar found in sweet wines. So again, scientifically, “stickies” should elicit the greatest number of complaints about allergic reactions to wine. Admittedly, far fewer dessert whites get drunk by the average drinker than dry reds for example, but the complaints about headaches from red wines still outnumber the complaints about sweet whites by what seems like a factor of at least 10 to 1, so something’s still not right…
To me what reduces the “I’m allergic to sulfites” to a very small pool of those who actually ARE allegic to sulfites is the fact that dried fruits - raisins, apricots, pineapples, etc. - are treated with FAR higher levels of sulfites than any wine EVER is, and the bad reactions to these sulfites almost always afflict asthmatics who from it experience the characteristic extreme shortness of breath associated with the ailment. So unless you experience asthmatic symptoms from drinking wine, and get the same symptoms in an even more exteme way from eating dried fruits, it is HIGHLY improbable that you are allergic to sulfites. So, if red wines are the main source of allergic reactions in wine drinkers, the real culprit must be something other than sulfites…
Another oft-cited source of allergies in wine are HISTAMINES. Clearly, histamines do cause allergic reactions in humans, which is why we take ANTI-histamines to counteract their effects. Further, red wines do indeed contain higher levels of histamines than white wines, but recent research has shown that histamine levels in wine are FAR too low to cause any ill reaction in all but the most histamine sensitive. Nonetheless, those who are especially sensitive to histamines do exist but their numbers are miniscule, so this interaction seems to be unable to account for the far larger number of those who complain of wine allergies…
The latest research however seems to indict certain PROTEINS as the real source of allergies in most drinkers. During the fermentation process, the yeasts used to convert sugar into alcohol create certain proteinaceous compounds that can trigger the oft-cited, mild “flu-like” symptoms associated with wine allergies like headaches and sneezing. But as I allude to above, there are lots of folks that like to point the finger at the wine that they drank as the culprit for their reactions, but these same folks also often forget that this wine was consumed over plates and plates of not so ordinary foods, potentially making what they’ve eaten as likely candidates for the reaction as the wine (or wines) that they washed it all down with…
So if you absolutely cannot live without wine, and get allergic reactions from what you THINK might be traceable to the fermented grape juice in your glass, go to an allergist and have him or her run a full battery of tests to once and for all confirm or refute that wine is (or is not) the source of your discomfort. In all likelihood, you’ll find out that your NOT allergic to ANY of these compounds, and you can then celebrate by opening a nice bottle…
TOM CIOCCO
Something ELSE that you can do with unfinished bottles of wine!
Some of you may have seen my earlier piece on making home-made vinegar - if not, have a look - just click on the word “vinegar” in the “categories” heading on the top right of this page…
So here’s another, even EASIER activity to transform (slightly) long-in-the-tooth bottles into a delicious and versatile product: grape syrup!
In Italy, as well as in many eastern Mediterranean countries, there is a product called “mosto cotto” (at least that’s what it’s called in Italian; the Greek or Arabic words for this product, I no know). Mosto cotto means “cooked must”. OK, the cooked part I think you get, but what’s “must” you ask? Must is essentially a winey word for juice - grape juice. In these places, just after crush, a certain small percentage of the fresh must is drawn off before fermentation. This rich and dense juice is lightly filtered to remove any large solid particles from the juice. Once filtered, the must is put into large copper pots and slowly cooked over low fires until the liquid arrives more or less at the consistency of maple syrup. This is mosto cotto. Used for both sweet and savory dishes, this product has a taste that is quite different from either wine or grape juice, it being fantastically intense with a strong sweet/sour pivot.
So here’s how it’s done:
First, don’t use wine that is TOO old…once a wine has gotten past a certain point (i.e. too much acetic acid development), you’re more likely to end up with a result more akin to an un-aged balsamic vinegar than a true mosto cotto, but if that is indeed what you want, go right ahead - this kind of stuff makes for good eatin’ too…
- Pour whatever amount of wine that you wish to reduce into a (preferably) older, medium-sized sauce pan. Be sure however that you’re not trying to reduce only a mouthful or two of wine - it’ll hardly be worth it, and you’re FAR more likely to burn the whole affair anyway…
- Turn the heat on VERY low, and bring wine to a BARE simmer. Adjust heat to maintain this level.
- *VERY IMPORTANT* As the wine JUST STARTS to become noticeably thickened, DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM THE STOVE FOR EVEN ONE MINUTE! This liquid will turn from wonderful piquant sauce to smoking, blackened, bubbling mess in just a few seconds - and if it does, the pan that you’ve used is DONE. Garbage. Kaput (this is why I suggest using an older, less beloved saucepan, just in case).
- Cook the wine until the consistency is approxmately the viscosity of light cream - remember, this is molten sugar, so it is thinner at this temperature. As the liquid begins to cool, it will become more viscous.
- Transfer the liquid into a CLEAN heat resistant, lightly sealable glass jar…that’s it!
A FEW VERY IMPORTANT NOTES:
You should always cook with your nose, but employ that advice double here…unfortunately, when the nose becomes clearly involved in this process, it might also be too late. If the heat you’re using is too high you can begin to “burn” the volatile grape substances in the wine before you even see any smoke. You’ll know that you’ve gone too far when you smell a clearly acrid, bitter smell. If you smell this, remove the pan IMMEDIATELY for the heat and run the pot under HOT water to remove the burned liquid.
Basically, you can’t rush this process. If you go SLOW AND STEADY, you should have success on the first go-round.
As you get better at this, you can begin to infuse some of your mosti with herbs - sage works well as does marjoram and tarragon…The woodier herbs like rosemary, thyme and oregano, if cooked at anything above a BARE simmer can impart a bitterness to the mosto - experiment CAREFULLY with these herbs before you NEED them for a recipe that is slated for the evening’s meal…Put the herbs into the pot, pour the wine over and begin to reduce VERY SLOWLY. As soon as there is ANY NOTICEABLE reduction, remove the herb(s)…as a matter of policy, it’s better to infuse the mosto with a large quantity of herbs for just a short time than to use just a little bit, and over-extract the flavors - this can also invite an unpleasant bitterness.
Since you’ll probably be doing this operation with a dry rather than a sweet wine, if your results are bit too sour - now get ready for this - add a little sugar…also, don’t forget to season the sauce with salt and pepper.
Just to be very clear about all of this, this procedure does not produce what is strictly called mosto cotto, since true mosto cotto is made pre-fermentation. Mosto cotto is definitely sweeter. Nevertheless, it does yield a very flavorful product…
SO WHAT THE HELL DO I DO WITH THIS STUFF?!
I’m glad you asked…since the result of this operation is so intensely sweet AND sour, this syrup works a well with sweet dishes as well as savory ones…in the sweet setting, try pouring it over vanilla ice cream or as a post-oven drizzle over some sweet butter cookies. On the savory front, the infused mosti are excellent dressings for meat or with oil and a bit of water, as dressing for salads or cooked vegetables…and my forebears from the central Italian region of Molise still make a dish of flash deep fried cauliflower that is drizzled with mosto cotto and then sprinkled with slivered almonds. Yum….as always, experiment…
TOM CIOCCO
