Read Online Uncorked by Marco Pasanella - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marco Pasanella
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up. If the typecasting hadn’t been so consistent, it would have been hard to believe. What made these sexy sales calls all the more confusing is that the tight-shirted sales staff was spread among some of the best distributors in the business. “Do the world’s most prestigious wines,” I asked myself, “really sell better framed between a woman’s breasts?” Sure seems like they do.
A few months after our initial visit, Armando, the salesman who had given me that $200 bottle of Barbaresco, returned, this time introducing us to a shy Piedmontese winemaker, Fabio Burlotto. The latest generation to take the helm of one of the oldest-school Barolo producers, Fabio filled us in on the two-hundred-year-old family business that had been the favored supplier to the former king of Italy but never managed to make the cover of
Wine Spectator
. Fabio kept his head down, and so I hardly noticed his wall eye. Trying to catch his gaze, all I could see were his Hermès sneakers.
Armando, in contrast, was beaming. He had a trophy vintner whom he had no doubt been dragging from retailer to retailer. These “work-withs,” I have discovered, are about as fun for the producers as dental surgery. The winemakers are forced to hawk their wares, numbingly repeating the same polished anecdotes. These chestnuts inevitably include a touching moment with agrandfather walking through the vineyards as a child or a more salacious one with a girlfriend (who later becomes a wife) among the same vines. Then the rep hands over the price sheet and gives the buyer (me) the “So?” look.
Fabio clearly knew the drill and wanted it to be painless and quick. He dutifully laid out a line of bottles featuring old-fashioned black script over white labels. Elegant, understated, humble. Just like the winemaker himself. Our first taste was of a local and lesser-known varietal called Pelaverga.
“Virgin skin,” Armando added lasciviously, providing a loose translation.
In spite of Armando’s leering, the wine was delicate and mysterious. It rewarded attention by unfolding as you let it linger on your tongue. I am sure we also tasted some of Fabio’s blockbuster Barolos that day, but what I remember most clearly is his quiet wine made from a heretofore unheard of varietal.
Other winemakers followed, towed by eager sales reps. None had quite as much impact as Stephane Tissot. “I’m not going to imagine you naked,” I repeated to myself as Tissot walked into our store, one of the most ardent adherents of biodynamic winemaking, rumored to pick all his grapes in the buff. But as a relative newbie to the wine world, I was keen on hearing more about the cutting-edge viticultural techniques practiced by this well-known French producer, who runs the family domaine in the foothills of the Alps with his wife, Bénédicte. And here he was standing in the back of my new wineshop with a grinning rep by his side.
In the last few years, the market for biodynamic wines has skyrocketed. In Pasanella & Son’s first year, we had had onlyone inquiry about biodynamic wines. Now we field at least one question a day. When new customers come to the store, I now see them scanning the labels and letting out satisfied “hmmms” when they see the “bio” symbol. Our current bestselling white, an Austrian Grüner Veltliner, is biodynamic.
The popularity of these seemingly über-green wines is not limited to independent shops in New York. National chains have reported similar spikes. The
Minneapolis Star-Tribune
calls the sales growth of these wines “explosive.” The ever-prescient Berrys’ recently launched a wine blog,
Wine Matters
, devoted entirely to biodynamic wines.
Even before this streaking vintner made the scene, I was familiar with the eccentric wines traditionally made in Tissot’s area, the Arbois. Although only fifty miles southeast from the famed Burgundy vineyards of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, the Arbois is best known for
vin jaune
(literally
A few months after our initial visit, Armando, the salesman who had given me that $200 bottle of Barbaresco, returned, this time introducing us to a shy Piedmontese winemaker, Fabio Burlotto. The latest generation to take the helm of one of the oldest-school Barolo producers, Fabio filled us in on the two-hundred-year-old family business that had been the favored supplier to the former king of Italy but never managed to make the cover of
Wine Spectator
. Fabio kept his head down, and so I hardly noticed his wall eye. Trying to catch his gaze, all I could see were his Hermès sneakers.
Armando, in contrast, was beaming. He had a trophy vintner whom he had no doubt been dragging from retailer to retailer. These “work-withs,” I have discovered, are about as fun for the producers as dental surgery. The winemakers are forced to hawk their wares, numbingly repeating the same polished anecdotes. These chestnuts inevitably include a touching moment with agrandfather walking through the vineyards as a child or a more salacious one with a girlfriend (who later becomes a wife) among the same vines. Then the rep hands over the price sheet and gives the buyer (me) the “So?” look.
Fabio clearly knew the drill and wanted it to be painless and quick. He dutifully laid out a line of bottles featuring old-fashioned black script over white labels. Elegant, understated, humble. Just like the winemaker himself. Our first taste was of a local and lesser-known varietal called Pelaverga.
“Virgin skin,” Armando added lasciviously, providing a loose translation.
In spite of Armando’s leering, the wine was delicate and mysterious. It rewarded attention by unfolding as you let it linger on your tongue. I am sure we also tasted some of Fabio’s blockbuster Barolos that day, but what I remember most clearly is his quiet wine made from a heretofore unheard of varietal.
Other winemakers followed, towed by eager sales reps. None had quite as much impact as Stephane Tissot. “I’m not going to imagine you naked,” I repeated to myself as Tissot walked into our store, one of the most ardent adherents of biodynamic winemaking, rumored to pick all his grapes in the buff. But as a relative newbie to the wine world, I was keen on hearing more about the cutting-edge viticultural techniques practiced by this well-known French producer, who runs the family domaine in the foothills of the Alps with his wife, Bénédicte. And here he was standing in the back of my new wineshop with a grinning rep by his side.
In the last few years, the market for biodynamic wines has skyrocketed. In Pasanella & Son’s first year, we had had onlyone inquiry about biodynamic wines. Now we field at least one question a day. When new customers come to the store, I now see them scanning the labels and letting out satisfied “hmmms” when they see the “bio” symbol. Our current bestselling white, an Austrian Grüner Veltliner, is biodynamic.
The popularity of these seemingly über-green wines is not limited to independent shops in New York. National chains have reported similar spikes. The
Minneapolis Star-Tribune
calls the sales growth of these wines “explosive.” The ever-prescient Berrys’ recently launched a wine blog,
Wine Matters
, devoted entirely to biodynamic wines.
Even before this streaking vintner made the scene, I was familiar with the eccentric wines traditionally made in Tissot’s area, the Arbois. Although only fifty miles southeast from the famed Burgundy vineyards of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti, the Arbois is best known for
vin jaune
(literally
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