La Storia del Chianti
Dateline: 07/13/97
In 1953 the producers of the Chianti Classico region met with agricultural experts and other notables: The general conclusion was that the region was suitable only for the production of large quantities of bad wine, and that the vineyards should be transformed into pastureland.
Lapo Mazzei, former president of the Consorzio del Marchio Storico (ex Gallo Nero) grinned as he told us this, at a seminar held at Le Corti del Vino, a winefest held in San Casciano, but his expression sobered as he went on to say that at the time the only bottlers were Antinori, Ruffino, Frecobaldi, and Brolio – everyone else who made wine sold it to the merchants. Also, the commission's thoughts about plonk were based on the evidence available: When Ricasoli developed the formula for Chianti in the 1850s he said that to make a wine that will age well one should use just red grapes (Sangioveseand Canaiolo), or better yet just Sangiovese, but the only person who had listened to him was Biondi-Santi down in Montalcino. The Chianti producers were making mixtures that included white grapes, and many were also producing White Chianti, which was simply Trebbiano farmed to high yields.
Things began to change in the late 50s – a few forward-looking
producers began to think in terms of increasing quality, and, more
importantly, began to bottle their wines themselves, rather than sell in
bulk to the wine merchant. Badia a Coltibuono was one of the first
wineries to bottle its wines itself, and we tasted the 1958 vintage. It
was well past its prime but had aged gracefully and was still able to give
a good indication of what it must have been – marvelous. On the nose
it was warm, with stewed plums and licorice. On the palate it had that
ethereal feel old wine can have, and was warm on the tongue, with silky,
slightly chewy tannins and a warm, somewhat acidic finish. I've had
younger wines that were a lot worse, and the amazing thing here is that
the wine was made with about 30% white grapes
(As
Rosemary George notes in her book on Tuscan wines, she was similarly
impressed by old Chianti Classico Montagliari). Even though the techniques
of production were primitive by modern standards, in good years the wines
were spectacular. And the powers of agriculture had wanted to plant
pastures?
Nobody was talking about pastures in the 1960s: The Chianti Classico district was in a state of flux, with the tenant farmers leaving the land for jobs in the cities and the large landholders selling off individual farms to newcomers who replanted the old coltura promiscua (fields in which rows of vines alternated with grain and olive trees) with solid vineyards. Unfortunately, most planted for high yields, with lots of Trebbiano, an extremely productive white grape. The DOC that was adopted in 1966 froze the situation before the problems could be worked out, and soon the better producers began to feel cramped – the rules forced them to make wine that wasn't as good as they could make, and the marketplace was going elsewhere. So they began to push the envelope, quietly reducing the quantity of white grapes in their wines to below that specified by the rules – as Giacomo Tachis, Antinori's pioneering oenologist said to Mr. Mazzei, "When you blend a wine [keep in mind all Chiantis were blends at the time] do you want to improve it or not?"
One of Tachis's first wines was the Antinori 1967 Riserva. It hadn't held up nearly as well as Badia a Coltibuono's wine had, but then again 1958 was an annata storica, whereas 1967 was merely great. In any case, the wine had notes of spice and Chinese oyster sauce on the nose, and also odd eucalyptus overtones that Mazzei attributed to experimentation with wood – the first attempts to use barriques. On the palate the wine was surprisingly sweet to begin with, thought the sweetness gave way to tart acidity, with silky somewhat acidic tannins.
Antinori's Tachis wines caused a tremendous stir (he was also bringing out Tignanello, the first SuperTuscan to gain notice) and lots of producers began to experiment, reducing white grape content and using French barriques to add complexity of to the bouquet and body of their wines. The DOC commission reacted with horror to the innovation, and in 1970 the producers asked that a new DOCG be established for the Chianti Classico region. Tensions rose to unbearable levels, and in 1971 Antinori and Ricasoli dropped out of the Consorzio del Gallo Nero. This decision on their part sent a shock wave through the region and provided a certain stimulus as well: 1971 saw the beginning of another wave of outsiders coming in and buying up estates. However, unlike the previous group, most of whom had sold their wines in bulk to the merchants, these newcomers bottled theirs under their own labels.
We tasted one, by Monsanto's Fabrizio Bianchi, who didn't just reduce the white grape content -- he eliminated them entirely and produced one of Chianti's first pure Sangioveses. "It shook the earth," Mazzei recalled, going on to say that many people accused Bianchi of making something that wasn't Chianti. Mazzei added that they were right up to a point: Bianchi's wines didn't resemble late-60s Chianti, but did resemble some of the better wines produced back in the 1930s, when the rules governing wine production were more flexible. The 1971 vintage was extraordinary (though not storica), and this wine was rather like someone whose youthful beauty still shines through the patina of old age. The nose was somewhat evanescent, with dried flowers, hot wood, balsamic vinegar and Chinese oyster sauce. On the palate it was well rounded with nice fruit – barely ripe cherries, to be specific – and silky tannins that led into a clean dusty finish. In its prime this wine must have been extraordinarily powerful.
Things were improving, but weren't rosy yet -- Mazzei recalls going to New York in 1974 convinced that Chianti's wines were great, and returning home with the uncomfortable realization that they still had a long way to go. In the meantime, a new figure was emerging: The Consulting Oenologist who worked with a number of wineries. The development was on the whole extremely positive, because the consultants (Francesco Bernabei, Vittorio Fiore, and Maurizio Castelli, to name some of the pioneers) brought a much needed breath of fresh air, improving techniques in the vineyards, where they farmed to low yields and worked to produce better grapes, and in the cellars, where they did away with much that was old and out dated. They also played a major role in introducing extra-Tuscan grapes, such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Merlot, which were initially used in SuperTuscan wines such as Tignanello, and subsequently added in lesser quantities to many Chiantis as well. The only drawback to the work of the consultants is that the wines of the wineries they advise tend to resemble each other -- a consultant's wine from Montepulciano may have more in common with his wine from a Chianti Classico estate than it does with that of a neighboring Montepulciano estate. Therefore, though the consultants have produced a definite increase in quality, the most distinctive and influential wines tend to come from estates that don't employ them (for example, Isole e Olena or Antinori (Tachis may be the original consulting oenologist, but he worked for Antinori.)).
1984 marked another milestone: The Chianti Classico region was awarded DOCG status. This meant that the wines had to be approved by a tasting panel, and that a number of changes were made in the rules governing the production of the wine. Most important, yields were lowered, and the use of up to 10% autochthonous grapes (Cabernet, Merlot, etc) was allowed (thereby sanctioning what was already common practice). In theory the wine was supposed to contain 5% white grapes, but many producers left them out, including Vecchie Terre di Montefili.
We
tasted the 1985 vintage (1984 was a dreadful year). Its color is a
powerful ruby red that reflects the time it spent in barriques, and its
bouquet is extremely elegant, with the typical enveloping warmth of
Sangiovese laced with stewed cherries, licorice and spice. On the palate
it's lush and full, with superb fruit and chewy tannins, and an extremely
persistent finish. A superb expression of pure Sangiovese, which is in its
prime and is well worth seeking out. With respect to the earlier wines,
the tannins are much more rounded and refined -- this is in part a
contribution of the barriques, but is also due to improvements in
technique, especially in the vineyards.
Mazzei then pointed out that the production of wines like those of Vecchie Terre di Montefili, which is located in Panzano, are raising a problem -- though the Chianti Classico region is governed by a DOCG it's really more a geographic location than an appellation -- there are enormous variations within the region. Also, the individual subzones want more autonomy. Will the future see subzones such as Panzano or Castelnuovo di Berardenga determining the paths they wish to follow, while the Consorzio devotes more of its attention to environmental protection and the like? Or, he wonders, will the Consorzio continue to govern everyone? Badia a Coltibuono's Roberto Stucchi would like to see the establishment of some form of subzonation, because some areas within the DOCG simply are better than others. Isole e Olena's Paolo de Marchi, on the other hand, fears (not without reason) that the establishment of subzones will lead to all sorts of shady marketing ploys.
So what is the situation today? The DOCG commission has passed a new set of regulations that again recognizes what has become common practice: Now Chianti Classico can be up to 100% Sangiovese, or it can contain some white grapes, or it can be all red grapes with up to 15% Cabernet or Merlot. These are very different wines, and this does make it quite difficult to determine exactly what Chianti is. However, this latitude makes it possible for almost everything that had until now been classified as SuperTuscan to reenter the fold. For example, if Antinori wanted to they could classify Tignanello as a Chianti Classico Riserva. Mazzei thinks that though the SuperTuscans were very helpful in the 70s and 80s, attracting attention and raising prices, with the new DOCG they're destined to share the spotlight with the Riserve.
All this activity in the legislative halls is mirrored by activity in the field: in the 1950s the producers planted "Fiat vineyards," vineyards with widely spaced tractor-friendly rows that had vines that would produce 10 or more pounds of grapes to guarantee high production. Now the Consorzio has undertaken an ambitious program to develop Sangiovese clones that will produce better quality grapes and the producers are replanting the old vineyards to much higher densities. Overall production is much lower and the production per vine is way down, to a little more than a pound -- each plant produces a small quantity of high-quality grapes; therefore the wine is better.
We closed with a couple of modern wines. Fontodi 1990 Vigna del Sorbo is 100% Sangiovese and has a wonderful ruby color. On the nose it's lush, with stewed cherries laced with spice and vanilla, all overlain by Sangiovese's warmth. On the palate it's full and has nice fruit, but its tannins are a little more angular than I might have liked, and I found the finish slightly acidic -- my palate may have been conditioned by the 1985 Vecchie Terre di Montefili.
Riecine Chianti Classico Riserva 1995 was an extraordinary violet color and smelled very much like a vanilla cupcake; on the palate it was unbalanced and quite obviously needed time to come together. It bore no resemblance at all to the 1995 Chianti Classico d'Annata I tasted at Vinitaly, and I was vastly dissapointed until I talked with Séan O'Callaghan (the wine maker), who told me that the moderator had forgotten to mention that the wine was a barrel sample sent only to give an indication of what the future will hold. Having tasted the 1994 Riserva at the estate, I think that when the 1995 Riserva has been in bottle long enough for the bouquet to develop (much of the elegance and finesse of a wine's bouquet develops in the reducing envronment of the bottle) it will be towering.
"We've come a long way since 1958," Mazzei concluded.
With the new vineyards being planted with better vines, I have to add
that the future looks rosy indeed.
Good Food & Drink,
Kyle Phillips
