Showing posts with label puglia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label puglia. Show all posts

Friday, 30 May 2014

Puglia

This blog is going to be a little different, for it's more of a travel blog as I've just got back from Puglia on holiday (that may not seem much different from a wine trip, but it meant that I didn't visit any wineries). Puglia's a large area in south-east Italy that extends down to the country's heel, its major cities Bari and Lecce. It's a poor region that hasn't received many visitors from outside the country until relatively recently. For better or for worse, the arrival of cheap flights into Bari and Brindisi, another port, is changing that. 

Its poverty is often evident, but this is an area with a rich, distinctive history and identity. In places it's rural and beautiful, elsewhere industrial and ugly, and sometimes a strange mixture of the two. It's a very friendly region and feels more authentically "Italian" than the more touristy areas to the north with everyone getting on doing what they've always done oblivious to outside influences - living rooms turned into shops and bars, long afternoon siestas, midnight promenades, driving that bears a passing nod to the rules. The food is rightly known as some of the best in Italy, with newly-caught seafood, and the pasta dishes are fresh, imaginative, and consistently high quality. The wine, like the region itself, has been held back by rural poverty, but there's now plenty of expressive, confident wine that still draws on the area's traditions. 

places

 

Matera

The first night we stayed in Matera, on the edge of the Basilicata/Puglia border. Matera is a spectacular hilltop town, with buildings dug into the rocks and perched on the cliff sides. Like many of the towns we visited, it's difficult to navigate by car with its winding side streets and intricate one-way system. Around the town are caves buried in the hills where people used to live before investment brought the town into the twentieth century. There's a vibrant, modern feel to the place now - they're applying for European Capital of Culture 2019 - and its stunning architecture and location make it a great place to visit before more tourists discover it. 

San Matteo church, Lecce
The following two nights were in Lecce, a major city further to the south just inland from the Adriatic Sea, as historic and spectacular as Matera but much bigger. Its medieval buildings have all been recently cleaned, gleaming white in the constant sun. There are over a hundred churches, all sternly imposing but grandiosely decorated, rising from the city's many side streets. There's a vibrant nightlife, with everyone streaming on to the streets after their evening meals until early in the morning. This is a great city that has lots to offer the tourist looking for something different - restaurants and bars, history, architecture, friendliness, and great food. 


Ostuni
We spent the next night in the countryside near Ostuni, called "The White City" for its white buildings which can be seen from its hilltop location for many miles. The place we stayed at was a converted farmhouse; some of its rooms are trulli, small traditional houses with pointed roofs. These were built to be easily dismantled to avoid the feudal lord's tax inspector, but they're now characteristic architecture of the Puglian rural landscape. They're most concentrated in nearby Alberobello, which even on a rainy Monday in May was a horrific tourist trap. Much better to drive around and see the trulli by the side of the road. 

trulli

Grotte di Castellana
North of Ostuni are some wonderful underground caves which have to be visited if you are in the area. These were discovered around the Second World War by speleologist (or "cave scientist" as our guide endearingly called him) Franco Annelli. They feature several kilometres of caves, some very low, others huge caverns, full of stalactites and stalagmites, a breathtaking journey through a million years of geological development. 

Italians go down to Puglia for the sea, but we spent only our final night by the Adriatic, in the fishing town of Trani, just north of Bari. A little rough at the edges, it still had a lively harbour with some good restaurants and bars. Visiting at the end of the May, it seemed the summer season was only slowly beginning to get underway.

Trani

Puglia reminded me a lot of Andalucía; a rich Mediterranean history, spectacular hilltop villages, some great cities, a down to earth friendliness, and a lonely yet appealing and surprisingly green landscape. Its food and drink are worth visiting for alone. 

food

Caffè Cavour, Ostuni

Visiting a region before the summer season gets underway, and one that isn't particularly touristy anyway, means that you have to take risks such as entering restaurants that are completely empty. Ostuni did have a small square with a few busy cafés and pizzerias, where passing by I overheard English voices, but we opted for this restaurant just a hundred metres away where we were the only customers. The back room, hidden well away from the road, was a cool stone cavern; the service was friendly and genuine; the menu seafood orientated, but with meat and vegetarian dishes, and all of an extraordinarily high quality, making complex pasta from simple ingredients. On a trip of consistently great meals, this restaurant ranks at the top.

Beltrani 29, Trani

Another cavernous restaurant that we took a punt on despite being completely empty. Once again, the food was exceptional, the only downside being the limited wine list - the waitress explained that they had cut back on the wine to keep it simple, but they had cut back too far.    

Il Porto, Taranto

On our way from Matera to Lecce, we made the mistake of stopping off at Taranto, the home of the Tarantella dance. This is a large industrial port, with a small island containing its old town surrounded by steel works and docks. Taranto is Puglia at its most authentic and intimidating: narrow, shaded streets with tiny doorways lurking on to shadowy living rooms selling bottles of water and beer and unwanted trinkets. It's also a town where any rules about parking should just be ignored: park where you can and toot anyone you feel like.

We wandered around the old town for an hour for a place of interest before finally finding this restaurant, its tables hidden deep behind the curtained door: one thing about a region as hot as Puglia is that its best restaurants are all indoors. We were given no choice but to order the same pasta dish; we thought this was because, once again, we were the only people in the restaurant, but the place was full of locals when we left. Again, the pasta was so simple, but so, so good. 

Doppiozero, Lecce 

On a street corner with outside seating, this was our favourite place to hang out in Lecce. A good selection of meats and cheeses to snack on, it also had an interesting and well-priced range of wines to drink: this is where we had the Verdeca and the first Negroamaro mentioned below. In the heat of a city, there's nothing like sitting in the shade of old buildings drinking wine watching the world go by. 

wine

 

photographic example of a wine geek

Internationally, Puglia's most famous grape is Primitivo as it's genetically the same as Zinfandel, California's great varietal. Besides sharing the same DNA, the two grapes are grown in a similarly hot climate, allowing the grape to ripen fully, building up the fruit profile, the sugars, and alcohol. Primitivo, though, is made in something of a different style - the fruits are slightly less prominent and the use of oak common to produce a more European, reserved wine. This, of course, is a generalisation - there are plenty of examples otherwise. 

Primitivo wasn't the most common wine I found on my trip, maybe because Lecce is in the heart of the Salento area of Puglia, home of Negroamaro. Its name literally means "bitter black," giving a good indication of the wines made from the grape. It's sometimes blended with a small amount of Malvasia Nero, and we also saw it blended with Primitivo and, in one instance, Cabernet Sauvignon. 

The highlight of any trip for me is discovering wines or grapes I'd never heard of, in this instance Susumaniello and Nero di Troia. Susumaniello produces deeply-coloured wines, and is more often used as part of blends rather than its own. Nero di Troia, also used in blends, was the stand-out discovery of the holiday for me: a grape high in tannin with unusually strong herbal flavours of coriander, as well as rich red fruits. Two of the wines I tried from this grape were absolutely superb, and if you want a flavour of Puglia this is the grape I'd look out for.

There are plenty of white wines to be found in Puglia, much needed for such a warm climate. Like many of the local grapes, plantings of Verdeca are in decline but I really enjoyed the round, almost creamy wine we had on a warm, sunny afternoon. I'm suspicious of non-indigenous varieties in historic areas such as Puglia, but I saw Chardonnay on lots of lists - and I did like the one example I tried. 

For all the wines we tried on this trip, it has to be remembered that wine in Italy is very regional - it was rare to see a wine from outside Puglia - and that most locals stick to house wines or other drinks such as beer or spirits. There weren't many dedicated wine shops, but the restaurants and a number of bars had good lists of interesting local wines. 

wines drunk/tasted

 

Primitivo goes surprisingly well with cold pizza

 

Dragone Pietrapenta Primitivo, Matera DOP 2011 (12 - approximate retail price)

This is actually from Basilicata rather than Puglia, but was a very good example of an Italian Primitivo. Aged for twelve months in oak, the wine wasn't as fruity as a Zinfandel, though as it opened up the upfront oakiness gave way to juicy black fruits. Very drinkable, but pleasingly complex. 

It would be hard to distinguish this wine tasting it blind alongside a Zinfandel. Coming in at a very Californian 15.5%, the immediate impressions were all about black fruits, but a spicy oakiness came through. A very good wine, though just too high in alcohol for me. 

This was quite an intense wine, rich and powerful, with black fruits, oak, vanilla, and pepper. There was a chocolate character to it too, reminding me of Syrah - more powerful than a French Syrah, though, but more intensely oaky and less fruity than a New World equivalent. 

Another powerful, oaky wine backed up by rich black fruit flavours, but with developed dried fruits and softening floral notes. 

Same grape as the previous wine, but completely different result. Much lighter in colour and flavour, with a lower alcohol to match (13%), it was more about the red fruits (cherries) than the black fruits. There was a nice liquorice finish to it, giving the wine some complexity. Reminiscent of a good Chianti or a Cru Beaujolais, this was the bargain of the trip - just €13 in a Lecce wine bar. 

Probably the wine of the trip. Getting on for ten years old, but still plenty of black fruits, acidity, and tannins. Mature character of game, earth, leather, mushroom, and tobacco dominant at first, before the aromas of blackberries, capsicum, and liquorice came through. 

Nero di Troia was the discovery of the holiday, and this involving, complex wine led us to try other examples. Richly ripe red cherries and plums, and with oak and spices, the 13% ABV belying its herbal, earthy depth of flavours. 

A much richer and more powerful wine; red cherries again to the fore, but with chocolate and spices, finished off with ripe strawberries. A wine that packs a punch but extremely balanced. 

A disappointing wine compared to the previous two, especially as it lacked the substance to stand up to pasta and meat which the other two excelled at. This was because there had been no oak ageing, which left the wine's body lacking. Nevertheless, there were immediate red fruit flavours of strawberries and cherries, with a light touch of pepper and mint, and a very floral nose - they'd named the wine Violante for a reason. 

A great wine for a hot summer's afternoon, but one with real substance too - not a simple wine for  a warm climate, but a full-bodied wine resonant of a warm climate. Stone and tropical fruits - peach, apricots, banana, and lychee - with a round and full spicy finish. 

Over our meal in Ostuni, I had a glass of house white wine. So impressed by its stone and tropical fruits, zingy capsicum, and fresh acidity with a good body, I asked what the wine was. I was surprised that it was Chardonnay, and surprised that Puglia could produce such a fresh, acidic white wine, at a good price too. 

from Piemonte to Puglia: a cheeky Barbaresco to finish the trip


Monday, 6 January 2014

Call in the Smoked Lancashire: Zinfandel, Primitivo, Malbec

A final blind tasting before starting the Diploma, featuring three varieties I don't drink that often. This lack of familiarity made distinguishing the wines hard - an equally unfamiliar @bleuettextiles was much more successful than I was. After tasting the wines, we tried them with three different cheeses; being Lancashire siblings, there was only going to be one winner there...

that's me in the corner


Pérez Cruz Cot 2011, Maipo Valley (hangingditch, £17.50)

Malbec is a French grape which was almost forgotten about until its fortunes were revived in Argentina. It's a grape suspectible to frost, which wiped out plantings in Bordeaux in 1956. Winemakers there gave up on the grape, but around the Dordogne town of Cahors winemakers continued to stand by it, making it the only Malbec-focused appellation in France. Since the 1500s, Cahors has been known as "the black wine" due to the dark colour and intense black fruit flavours (particularly damson) that come from the grape. 

In Cahors, and the Loire where it's also grown, it's not traditionally called Malbec, but Cot, which is what this Chilean Malbec has called itself, perhaps to distinguish it from its neighbours across the Andes, perhaps to make it seem more French, but certainly not for any discernible commercial reasons.

I mistook the wine for Zinfandel, because its upfront, jammy fruit flavours seemed more characteristic of that grape than Malbec. @bleuettextiles called it right, though, as she did all the wines; looking at my notes - "damson and mulberry" - I should have been able to work it out for myself. 

behind the tears sits a taster


Peachy Canyon Zinfandel 2011, Paso Robles (hangingditch, £18.50)

The signature grape of California, it came as a shock to their proud wine industry when in the 1990s it was discovered it was actually the same grape as an obscure variety called Primitivo, from unfashionable, arid, low-quality Puglia, in the heel of Italy. Despite that connection, Zinfandel remains archetypal California: big, fruity, with lots of alcohol. 

This one was more complex than that stereotype, though. Lots of ripe black fruits, but well integrated with the toasty oak to create a wine of real depth and structure - but still weighing in at a huge 15% ABV.

It's let down, though, by one of the worst wine labels I've ever seen (see photo below): "Peachy Canyon Incredible Red" on a pinky-crimson label with a poorly drawn winery. It really shouldn't be that difficult to create a more appropriate label for a quality wine. 

Pazzia Primitivo di Manduria 2010 (hangingditch, £30)

This was a serious wine from a region with a less than serious reputation: seriously austere label, seriously heavy bottle, and serious, restrained flavours. Such severity took a while to open up and reveal the best wine of the evening: dry, grainy, oaky tannins, black fruits, and dried and baked fruits, with mint and cloves. It's a wine that proves that Puglia is now capable of producing complex, high-quality wines.

It also felt very "Old World", while the Peachy Canyon was identifiably "New World". I really don't like those terms - any tradition of high-quality wines in Puglia is far younger than in California - but here these distinctions do make sense. The Californian Zinfandel was complex and involved, but its fruits were still up-front, whereas the fruits of the Puglia Primitivo were far more restrained, hidden behind the wine's oakiness. That certainly doesn't make one wine better than the other, but it does highlight the different approaches to making wine in different regions - and wineries - around the world.

congratulating herself on correctly identifying the wines


cheeses

I grabbed a packet of Grana Padano when in Sainsbury's just because it was Italian - would it work better with the Primitivo than the Zinfandel? Only when I got home did I discover that it's from the north of Italy, far from Puglia, making that question redundant. Hard and salty - not dissimilar to ungrated Parmesan - it didn't work with any of the wines, competing against the flavours (and it wasn't that great a cheese anyway). The Spanish Manchego, always a favourite wine cheese of mine, was creamier and sweeter than I'd had before and it didn't quite balance with the black fruits of the wines. Predictably, I started eulogising about testing it against a flight of sherries. I got that cheese at the Cheese Hamlet in Didsbury, as I did the Smoked Lancashire. Here, the smokiness and creamy crumbliness worked beautifully. The Malbec was a little smothered by the cheese, but the tannins and fruits of the Zinfandel and Primitivo were a great match. The Primitivo pairing worked especially well: the smoke and tannins wrapping themselves around each other, the fruits crumbling into the cheese. A taste of Lancashire and a flavour of Southern Italy: regional pairings aren't always the way to go. 

look at the Lancashire gently crumble under the Puglia...