I’m sitting opposite Rino Fontana, an Italian wine collector that Antonio Galloni named his Wine Personality of the Year in 2023. Fontana looks unassuming – like any other septuagenarian that you might find, cigarette in hand, knocking back an espresso in a sunny piazza. Sunglasses hang on a string around his neck, and occasionally he rifles through scraps of paper that seem to operate as a calendar and/or journal. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was perhaps someone a little more, well, suave. Fontana has been collecting wine since the 1980s and is renowned for his cellar, a treasure trove of remarkable vintages from Piedmont’s top producers. Indeed, Galloni has dubbed him “Il Professore” for his extensive knowledge of Italian wine – despite never having worked in the industry. As Fontana scrolls through pictures on his phone, recalling recent dinners, he rolls off names and vintages that would leave any wine-lover speechless. He grew up in the Oltrepò Pavese, where his father was a stonemason, but would buy grapes and make a little wine for the family. Fontana was sent to school in Valenza, a town known for its gold industry – and he started working in a gold factory in his late teens. Aged 24, he and his best friend opened their own jewellery workshop. It was the owner of a local restaurant in nearby Mortara who introduced Fontana to the real pleasures of wine, and a bottle of Conterno’s Monfortino that made him fall head over heels for Nebbiolo – the 1958 vintage, in fact. Since that first taste, he’s opened over 150 bottles (yes, really) of the 1958 Monfortino. It was that wine that prompted Fontana to start visiting producers – an adventure in self-education. At the time, people weren’t buying wine, and Italy’s winemakers were far from fashionable. He became friends with the likes of Giuseppe Rinaldi, Bruno Giacosa and Gianfranco Soldera, rapidly securing significant allocations of their wines when few others were showing interest. Producers, in turn, suggested he had a gift – unique in his ability to understand wines in barrel and foretell their future. Today, he covers around 80,000km a year visiting producers – but the vast majority of that mileage is in Piedmont, for Fontana drinks – and collects – little other than Nebbiolo. This one grape represents around 95% of his consumption, he says, with Barolo and/or Barbaresco on the menu every day. He always has the latest releases on hand in the fridge – even some basic Langhe Nebbiolo, but at least twice a week he’ll uncork something special from the 1960s or ’80s with wine-loving friends or producers. While Nebbiolo is one of many grapes to be declared “the king of wines”, for Fontana it really does reign supreme. When I ask why, marvelling at how he could drink so much of just one variety, he shrugs: “Nebbiolo is Nebbiolo.” When I push him, he says he loves its ageability, structure and elegance – something he feels you can’t find in Pinot Noir. He recalls a recent dinner with Galloni at Il Centro in Priocca, sharing a bottle of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti’s 2004 La Tâche alongside a 1947 Borgogno Barolo and 1989 Vigna Rionda from Giacosa. Both the Barolos, he says, grew over the dinner – while the La Tâche faded slowly. For him, Burgundy (even the world’s most sought-after bottles) is no match for Nebbiolo. That’s a controversial opinion – but Fontana is not a man short of views. He dismisses the wines of Cappellano and Accomasso, while he has firm beliefs on how Nebbiolo should be made, favouring traditional winemaking with old oak – not wanting to feel the wood in the wine. He argues that too many young producers are going to Burgundy and trying to echo that style in their wines, losing their Piedmontese identity. The resulting wines are, he feels, too technical, too clean. “Great wine can’t be perfect,” he says – suggesting that those imperfections are partly what makes wine feel alive. While the most established and famous producers dominate his collection, he also likes the wines from newer names such as Trediberri, Crissante and Cascina Baricchi. Beyond Nebbiolo, he’ll dabble in certain labels of Sangiovese – Soldera, for example will pass muster, as well as SanCarlo (a producer he feels rivals the former). Montevertine’s Le Pergole Torte would previously have been a prime choice, but now he’d choose Le Boncie’s Le Trame instead. He likes Valentini and Emidio Pepe, and used to buy Gravner but feels the style changed in 2004 so stopped. He sold his jewellery business in 2000 – dedicating his time entirely to wine – visiting producers, building his collection and selling to select parties (of which FINE+RARE is lucky enough to be one). Fontana has around 9,000 bottles in his collection today. He shows us a video of his cellar – intriguingly with many of the wines stored upright. Anything post 1990 is kept on its side, but older wines stand proud in his cellar – something which he argues is better once they reach a certain age, with the cork and humidity of the cellar more important in their preservation. It’s a remarkable collection, with incredible verticals of many wines. His access seems unparalleled – receiving larger allocations than many importers, given his historical ties. He is the only individual, for example, to receive an allocation of Rinaldi’s Brunate Cru – a wine that is otherwise kept exclusively for the family. Some of his most prized bottles are Giacosa’s 1964 Santo Stefano and magnums of 1970 Monfortino (“amazing” – he says), while he has a soft spot for the youthful 2015 Soldera. Now aged 73, Fontana seems just as enchanted by wine as when he first tasted that 1958 Monfortino. I ask him if there’s a wine he is still desperate to taste, a unicorn that he’s still hunting: the answer is no. He’s been able to try every vintage from the producers he loves. It’s a rare answer for a wine lover – but “Il Professore” isn’t your average wine collector. – Photography of Rino Fontana at Il Centro by Dan Deibel Explore a selection of top verticals from Fontana’s cellar, all Italian listings or read more Editorial

Friends with Vinous founder and critic Antonio Galloni, and with a cellar that will turn you green with envy, Rino Fontana is Italy’s most famous wine collector. We sat down with the man himself to find out more about his journey into wine, incredible collection and obsession with one grape  

Antonio Galloni’s Wine Personality of the Year 2023, Rino Fontana is Italy’s most famous wine collector – we met the man to talk about his cellar

Rino Fontana – the wine collector like no other

Rino Fontana: a collector like no other

Le Pin doesn’t really do events. I guess it doesn’t need to. This tiny 2.7-hectare property produces on average 600 cases each year and the wines are instantly snapped up on release by collectors lucky enough to be privy to the merchants’ miniscule supply.  But FINE+RARE, after much searching, collated an extraordinary collection of Le Pin bottlings (some coming from Thienpont’s own personal cellar) right back to the inaugural 1979 vintage. The tasting consisted of 12 vintages of Le Pin, as well as three vintages from L’If, Thienpont’s relatively new project in neighbouring Saint-Emilion. We also persuaded Thienpont to come to London and share Le Pin’s fascinating story from the beginning. The setting was perfect for such an intimate event. With just a handful of guests alongside Jacques Thienpont and Diana Berrouet Garcia (MD of Domaines Jacques Thienpont), the dinner took place in Claridges’ L’Epicerie restaurant. L’Epicerie, which seats just 14 guests, is set within Claridges’ hallowed kitchens. It meant the guests could watch the chefs at work and discuss with them why they paired certain dishes with certain vintages. In hindsight, it was amazing just how versatile the Le Pin wines turned out to be. The younger vintages paired beautifully with poached lobster, fois gras terrine, black truffle and artichoke. The older vintages worked just as well with beef fillet and aged cheeses. But, however well the food worked, everyone was there to taste Le Pin.  Le Pin needs little introduction. The youngest of all the Right Bank icons, it became an almost overnight success thanks to the critical acclaim of the property’s fourth vintage in 1982. Combined with its tiny production levels and an ever-expanding collectors’ market, Le Pin became the ultimate wine collectable – and the market price of this tiny estate quickly rose to stratospheric levels.   Such are its size and popularity that it is rare to taste one bottle of Le Pin, let alone 12 vintages back-to-back. I’ve been lucky enough to taste the wine en primeur over the years, so I had some idea of what to expect, but it’s only at maturity that this extraordinary wine’s vivid personality really comes to life.  The elusive address has humble beginnings. From the 1920s to the late 1970s, the land was owned by the Loubie family. During this time, the wine was made by a contract-winemaker based in Lalande de Pomerol and was sold with little fanfare.  In 1979, Jacques Thienpont jumped at the chance to purchase the property when it came up sale, privy to the extraordinary terroir of the site, located next to his uncle Gérard’s esteemed Pomerol estate Vieux Château Certan. Thienpont named his new acquisition after a single pine tree that shaded the property. Over the years, he gradually expanded the vineyard to 2.7 hectares by purchasing slivers of land from adjacent producers.   It’s hard to imagine that a wine of such prestige came from what was – in the early days – a very basic operation. The project and space were so small that there was little flexibility when it came to vinification. Everything was done by hand and malolactic fermentation took place in barrel because Thienpont had nowhere else to store the wines (although this eventually set the trend for modern winemaking). In time, the Belgian vigneron made improvements in the winery and vineyard, including replanting a significant part of the land with new Merlot clones and re-trellising the vines. Now, 40 years later, Thienpont is as hands-on as ever, insisting he is involved in every stage of winemaking.   Wine experts consider Le Pin’s key advantage to be its unique terroir and soil composition. With sandy gravel topsoil on a pocket of gravel which runs five to 10 metres deep, the vineyard has perfect drainage. As it’s south-facing, it is a warmer site and that gives the vineyard great benefits, particularly in poorer, cooler vintages. It is notably different from surrounding vineyards. The vineyard contains a high proportion of iron oxide, aka “crasse de fer”, which Jacques Thienpont attributes to the soil’s fantastic drainage and feels helps Le Pin perform well in wetter vintages.   There are a few odd Cabernet Franc vines in the vineyard at Le Pin, but the wine is 100% Merlot. A significant portion (40%) of the vineyards were replanted in the late 1970s, and replanting has continued under Thienpont’s ownership. In fine wine terms the average age of the vineyards is relatively young. The fact that Le Pin can already produce such incredible wines suggests the future looks bright for the property.  The property produces low volumes but with great consistency, with the wine always expressing a beautiful integration of tannins, wonderful depth and detail. It also ages beautifully, as this stunning line-up showcased so well. Tasting a younger vintage (2018) earlier in the day, it became apparent how versatile Le Pin is. Despite its youth, the 2018 is drinking beautifully right now. Berrouet Garcia believes it is one of Le Pin’s trump cards – it just performs so well at any time, in its youth, at full maturity and any time in between, such is its openness and versatility.  With a couple years in bottle, the 2018 really expresses a signature trait of Le Pin, a trait that through the tasting is so distinctive and emanates from almost every vintage – a trademark tannin texture and mouthfeel. The best way I can explain it is as if the tannins are totally spherical in the mouth. There are no edges, you can feel they are there by their density on the palate. They are the “dark matter” equivalent of tannin – they are there but you just can’t feel them.  Before the Le Pin vertical, guests were introduced to Jacques Thienpont’s Saint-Emilion estate, L’If. Thienpont’s first vintage from this young estate was 2010 and the wines are the perfect antithesis to Le Pin. Whereas Le Pin is voluptuous and opulent, L’If is stricter, more linear and has amazing energy. Thienpont has fallen in love with the limestone soils of Saint-Emilion. While still similar in climate to Pomerol (warm and sunny) the limestone soils in Saint-Emilion keep freshness in the wine and importantly, in winemaking terms, the pH low.  Whereas Le Pin’s opulent levels of ripeness and high pH (due to the soils) can sometimes have problems with fermentations getting stuck (so much so from 2015 onwards that Le Pin has been fermented using a special commercial yeast that avoids this problem), L’If’s limestone soils mean they can push ripeness levels and never lose freshness. Like Le Pin, tasting through the vintages of L’If there is a strong character trait across the vintages – a vibrant energy that is just so expansive on the palate. The 2015, 2013 and 2012 all express distinct vintage traits too, the 2015 the most powerful, the 2013 lighter but beautifully clean and vertical, while the 2012 is soft and juicy with lovely floral delicacy.  Le Pin’s roundness and silk-like texture is such a lovely contrast to L’If and tasting them side by side only accentuates how different in style these two wines from Jacques Thienpont are.  The vertical of Le Pin starts with two legendary vintages – the 2010 and 2009. Strangely, the 2009 throws a lot of sediment, something not found in the other wines. It is hugely concentrated and opulent. Pushing the levels of ripeness, there is a touch of VA, but it doesn’t diminish the wine at all. Despite the richness and ripeness, it is very much on the red fruit spectrum– but the 2010 was even better. It has an electricity to it that adds another level of excitement to the dense, rich fruit and smoky tones. This electric energy was also present in my wine of the night – the 2001. This wine is so elegant and refined, and is in its perfect drinking window today, the light tertiary notes complement the exquisitely pure, fresh fruit. But it’s the clenched tautness to the wine and that extra burst of energy that makes it so special and surpasses even the hugely anticipated 2000. This too has the tension, the sinewy tannins, the textbook spherical mouthfeel but the tertiary development is more advanced than the 2001.  The 2008 was also a highlight for me. It had all the classic Pomerol hallmarks, the irony-minerality and opulent fruit. It was also impressively structured while remaining heavenly soft. It was perhaps the vintage that showed off this contrast best, but it was a trait running throughout. The 2007 was lighter, earthier even with a touch of menthol and shorter on the palate but still delightful. The 2006 for me also outshone the “better” vintage of 2005. The density of the 2006 is just so impressive. If anything, the 2005 tasted the least like Le Pin. It had an almost Cabernet-esque feel, more structured, more extracted and, in that sense, felt like the odd one out in the tasting.  The 1996 was fully developed with lovely tertiary notes and dried fruit flavours. But the spherical mouthfeel clearly synonymous with Le Pin was very much intact and there was still plenty of tension and a very long finish. The 1990 was a revelation, so light on its feet – almost Pinot Noir-like in its daintiness and purity. It had a lovely freshness still, despite the concentration from this warm vintage. Again, it is still spherical in character, with lovely mature Claret flavours.  The 1983 was slightly unclean on corking, perhaps unsurprisingly, but this blew off in the glass. It was fully mature, dominated by tertiary flavours, but the tannins interestingly were less dried out than the 1996. Finally, the inaugural 1979 vintage. Amazingly, this first vintage already has the Le Pin DNA on the palate. The spherical mouthfeel was there. It is a remarkably clean bottle considering the age. It tasted more youthful than the 1983 alongside and still had fresh fruit characters and more tertiary notes. The spherical tannins are beautifully integrated. What a wine and what condition! It’s quite incredible.  There were clear takeaways from the tasting. Firstly, Le Pin’s consistency was self-evident, performing year-in, year-out. Secondly, the DNA of Le Pin was distinct throughout the flight (bar the 2005) both in youth and at full maturity. Also, it is clear that its character, its distinctness exists right back to its humble beginnings. Le Pin is a special wine, a rare treat, but not just a wine for the well-initiated. Such is its openness, elegance and dare I say easiness, Le Pin turns out to be the ultimate crowd-pleaser. Browse all current Le Pin listings or read more Editorial

While “once-in-a-lifetime” might be overused, a vertical of Le Pin back to the inaugural 1979 vintage was just that. After tasting 12 vintages of this cult Pomerol with owner Jacques Thienpont, Gavin Smith considers what defines the property, and wine

A once-in-a-lifetime tasting of Le Pin back to its inaugural 1979 vintage held in Claridges’ L’Epicerie restaurant

Le Pin – from the beginning

Le Pin: from the beginning

Châteauneuf-du-Pape has a long history, becoming the new home for the Pope in the 14th century, but its prestige as a wine region is comparatively short. Although it is France’s oldest appellation (the first to be officially classified in 1923), the wines only really gained notoriety in the second half of the 20th century. More recently, its full-bodied, fruity style found appeal among American critics – namely Robert Parker, who helped increase its following across the Atlantic. But, despite the success of estates such as Ch. Rayas, there is little fanfare around the region. Isabel Ferrando’s dynamism, therefore, is a refreshing change. Her story is one of revolution rather than evolution. With every step in her career, she has made bold decisions – decisions that have brought significant attention, praise and a legion of fans. For her, such an approach aligns neatly with the philosophy of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. “The only limit is to respect the appellation. That is the only limit,” says Ferrando. With 13 permitted varieties (or 22 if you count both white and red grapes) and five very different, distinct soils, countless expressions of the appellation are possible – and, for her, this is why it’s a very modern appellation. Everyone is given the freedom to “paint their picture”. Although the region might be famous for its galets roulés (large round pebbles that reflect heat and add to ripeness), this is just one of its terroirs. “There are five different soils in Châteauneuf – chalk, limestone, clay, sand, galet stones that each have a strong influence on the appellation,” she explains. “There is one singularity,” she admits, “and that is a lot of fruit.” She feels that Châteauneuf is united by its “fruity but serious” profile – however, beyond that, there is incredible variety – from more floral to darker, more savoury styles. “The vines on clay produce a fatness in the wine. The sandy soils bring a silky texture and tenderness to the tannins. The chalk gives a sensation of powder,” she says, highlighting how each soil type contributes to the final wine – providing a palette for any winemaker to produce a wine that fits their sensibility. This freedom made the region a perfect fit for Ferrando – who decided to give up her job in banking to become a winemaker 20 years ago. Then a new mother, she initially thought that being her own boss would allow her to spend more time with her family. That didn’t actually happen, she admits, “But when you become a mother or father, you become someone else – you look at life differently. I wanted to go back to nature,” she says. “I didn’t want to raise my daughter in a city. I was born in the countryside, and I needed that for my daughter.” After training for a year in Gigondas under Dominique Ay (at Domaine Raspail-Ay) she found a domaine for sale in Châteauneuf-du-Pape and jumped at the opportunity. She might have been new to the region, a woman in a male-dominated industry with no background in winemaking, but that wasn’t going to put her off. Fortunately, she made some good friends – most notably the late legendary Châteauneuf-du-Pape producer Henri Bonneau who was instrumental in the establishment of Domaine Saint-Préfert. When she arrived, the vineyards were not in good shape, with many vines diseased and in need of replanting. Traditionally, producers in Châteauneuf-du-Pape blend plots together to capture the complexities of the different soils and varieties etc. But, if she was to make a wine of quality, this was not possible for Ferrando. So she identified the best plots and bottled those separately (as her Réserve Auguste Favier and Collection Charles Giraud cuvées), while she set about replanting the rest of the vineyards. The young fruit from her new vines was dedicated to her Cuvée Classique Châteauneuf-du-Pape. Single-vineyard bottlings were quite a radical move in the appellation – but such was the quality of these low-production, old-vine bottlings that Ferrando’s wines rapidly earned recognition. She went further to challenge convention in the region, crafting three varietal wines in a region that was built on blends. These cuvées – a Clairette (Cuvée Spéciale Vieilles Clairettes), Cinsault (Cuvée F601) and Grenache (Cuvée Colombis) bottling – are remarkable wines. There is no other 100% Cinsault produced in Châteauneuf-du-Pape.“The Cinsault is absolutely perfect in Saint-Préfert,”, says Ferrando. “Nowhere else in Châteauneuf-du-Pape do you get these floral aromas.” She describes the grape as the Pinot Noir of the Rhône. Production is tiny – limited to just 800 bottles a year – and it is not cheap at £500 a bottle. But, for those lucky enough to taste it, it is beguiling. The Wine Advocate’s Joe Czerwinski rated it as his top discovery of 2020. Her 100% Clairette is another oddity for Châteauneuf-du-Pape and almost as rare. Only bottled in magnums (800 a year) – this is a wine that Ferrando believes can age 50 years or more. “Clairette is my vision of white wine in the Southern Rhône.” She wants to counter the claim that white Châteauneuf-du-Pape is fat and fruity. “With Clairette, you can produce very fresh and deep wines,” she says, “it gives a lot of freshness, tension and salinity to the whites.” The wine was inspired by her mentor Henri Bonneau, who convinced Ferrando to bottle these 80-year-old vines separately. In the early days of Saint-Préfert, Ferrando invited Bonneau to a feast of tête de veau – and Bonneau arrived with a magnum of an unlabelled white wine. During the meal, Bonneau started to cry – he told Ferrando that the wine was the last bottle from the cellar made by his father – a 1947 100% Clairette – showing how well good Clairette could age. “It was a very special moment,” notes Ferrando. The wine was incredibly fresh and in perfect condition. He asked Ferrando again to create another 100% Clairette – like his father’s. The first vintage was 2009. Once the wine was picked and fermented Bonneau would come to the winery, taste the wine and insist she not bottle the wine yet. It was not ready. “It was risky,” says Ferrando, “but he insisted.” After 18 months she could hold off no longer and bottled it. Tasting the wine, she was amazed by its tension. It was special. The first magnum of every vintage was given to Bonneau as a thank you. After 20 years in Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Ferrando is one of the appellation’s brightest stars. But she hasn’t stopped challenging the status quo. After building one of the most celebrated brands in the appellation, Ferrando overhauled her range in 2020 – discontinuing many wines and changing the estate’s name to Famille Isabel Ferrando. Few people would have the guts to take such a chance, but a meditative period over Covid-19, the death of her husband and the evolution of her vineyards all prompted her next radical change. “The resistance of people to change is apparent, it is comfortable to stay the same,” she admits. But, for Ferrando, she had to change. Over 20 years, she’d nurtured her vineyards back to health, her young vines had reached maturity and her biodynamic farming had brought biodiversity back into her vineyards. “The vineyards changed and so the wines had to change too,” she explains. Ferrando now had the quality of fruit to be able to produce a single, flagship Châteauneuf-du-Pape cuvée – a wine that represented her terroir and her winemaking style. While she still produces her Vieilles Clairettes, F601 Cinsault and Colombis cuvées, she has sacrificed her top-scoring Auguste Favier and Charles Giraud reds to produce what she feels is a true representation of her estate and sensibility. The wine captures her obsession with freshness, balanced with concentration – playing with the different textural qualities of her soils and varieties. With this refreshed focus from the 2020 vintage, Ferrando decided to bottle the wines under Famille Isabel Ferrando – trusting that her customers will follow the wines under this new name. Ferrando’s daughter seems to have inherited her mother’s revolutionary approach. At 22, she decided to abandon her business studies to tackle a degree in viticulture in Beaune – to the complete shock of her mother. While currently her daughter is learning about winemaking at some of the best estates around the world (including at the likes of Domaine Roulot, Eisele Vineyard, Mullineux and more), she has already had an influence at Saint-Préfert. It was under her guidance that Ferrando hired a young agronomist engineer who has been planting trees and cereal crops in the vineyards to improve biodiversity. Ferrando is clearly excited– still spurred on by change, despite her success. Tasting the new wines from Famille Isabel Ferrando is a wonderful experience. We were among the first to taste the 2021 vintage. The white Châteauneuf-du-Pape is divine – offering such beautiful freshness, salinity and depth, with a finesse that I can’t remember tasting from the region. And the reds, even at such a young age, already taste so balanced, pure and refined. Ferrando might be a radical and modern vigneron, but her wines are timeless. Browse all Famille Isabel Ferrando listings or read more Editorial

Isabel Ferrando is one of the stars of Châteauneuf-du-Pape. As she once more tears up the rulebook to relaunch her wines under Famille Isabel Ferrando, we discuss her journey so far, and why she believes Châteauneuf-du-Pape is one of the most exciting wine regions in the world today.

Over 20 years, Isabel Ferrando has been challenging convention in Chateauneuf-du-Pape – she explains why it’s so essential to never stop evolving

Talking to Chateauneuf-du-Pape’s Isabel Ferrando

The challenge to change: Isabel Ferrando

If you journey to the northernmost prefecture of Japan you will find Hokkaidō. Venture deeper into the Japanese island’s stunning national parks and forests and you’ll find its native quercus crispula – the mystical mizunara. Measuring up to 30 metres in height, with long, curved branches and broad leaves, the Japanese oak tree is undeniably majestic. In recent years, this humble tree, favoured by luxury furniture makers, has become an incredibly highly sought-after commodity in the whisky world for the slightly unusual characteristics of sandalwood, coconut and incense it imparts. It is so desirable, in fact, that a single barrel can easily cost 10 times the amount you’d pay for a standard Sherry cask. If you can get your hands on one at all, that is. Mizunara hasn’t always been as desirable as it is today. In fact, track back 10 to 15 years and very few people had heard of it, let alone deigned to put their beautifully crafted whisky in it. Its popularity neatly coincides with the sudden rise of Japanese whisky and Suntory’s decision to release a whisky that had been aged, albeit fleetingly, in this Japanese oak. What many didn’t realise at the time, and arguably still don’t to this day, is how problematic the mystical mizunara is to cooper, source and use as a maturation vessel. It takes approximately 200 years before a mizunara tree reaches the desired diameter for a cask (70-80cm). It doesn’t grow in a straight line, which makes creating staves a bit of a logistical headache for coopers. It has an extremely high moisture content (mizunara literally translates as water oak), and contains more knots than other woods, which is an issue when trying to make a cask watertight. It is also porous and prone to leakage. It's fair to say that it’s not a natural choice, and historically it wasn’t used in this way. Japanese distillers traditionally used European or American oak to mature their whisky because they were heavily influenced by Scotch traditions. But a shortage of casks during and after World War II forced them to look closer to home, to their native oak tree. Fast forward to today and the number of mizunara-finished whiskies is at an all-time high. As a consequence, mizunara barrels have only become more difficult (and expensive) to source. Andrew Rankin has worked in the whisky industry for 47 years – what he doesn’t know about casks isn’t worth knowing and his connections are enviable. None more so than his relationship with one of the oldest independent cooperages in Japan, from whom he sources a steady supply of mizunara for his new Scottish Highlands distillery Ardross. He describes the Japanese oak as a “fairly recent phenomenon” that was kickstarted by Suntory – a company he knows exceptionally well from his 20-plus years at Morrison Bowmore – where they filled an “absolutely tiny percentage” of Yamazaki into mizunara a decade ago. In the years that have followed, Rankin has been watching the mizunara market closely and is sceptical as to whether there is enough supply to meet demand. “It took me years to persuade Suntory to give us some mizunara casks,” he says. “At that time, I think it was 2010, we got three used mizunara casks and we got three new mizunara casks – and that was it. And it was a one-off. We weren’t getting a regular supply of it.” Even with his connections, Rankin says he doesn’t get a committed volume of mizunara each year because it is dependent on the level of deforestation and the quality of the wood. “We were due to get 20 [barrels] in at the beginning of this year,” he says, “but we still haven’t got them because of selection problems with the wood and shipping problems.” He’s hopeful they’ll arrive before the year is out, but there’s no guarantee. From the people I have spoken to, this lengthy wait is par for the course. East Asia Whisky Company’s Christian Leusder says it takes “approximately three years before you receive a good-quality mizunara barrel”. When you’ve parted with a staggering £8,000 per cask – five times the cost of a standard European or American oak barrel – it can be galling when other producers punt for a mediocre cask, which is only partly made from mizunara or is made from multiple trees, and sell their whisky for a similar price. These, arguably, poorer imitations can be with the buyer within a month or two because they take far less time to cooper and ship. Leusder believes the “massive” difference in cask pricing and considerable delay is worth it to produce something that isn’t just “bandwagon [and] off-the-rack”. Another bone of contention regarding mizunara is the length of time the whisky has spent in barrel, and whether the cask is fully or only partly made from the Japanese oak. Suntory UK Brand Ambassador James Bowker says the Japanese whisky behemoth is “lucky” to have a “relatively consistent, quality supply chain” that has been established over many years. These relationships enable them to fully age whiskies in single casks rather than cask transferring or finishing. “You’ll see this practice across our portfolio where we use mizunara,” he says. “It gives a more rounded, complex, tertiary profile rather than a simple hit of the primary cask notes.” However, Bowker is quick to acknowledge this expensive process which requires a “significant” time investment is not always possible – financially or otherwise – for some producers. Rankin says he really doesn’t know where all these producers are sourcing mizunara casks from because they are, naturally, far more scarce today than they were a decade ago. He is also sceptical about how long some of these whiskies have spent in mizunara and believes it takes at least five years to get any influence from the wood. “At the moment, you could put your whisky in a mizunara cask, roll it about on the floor, and say it is mizunara-cask-finished,” the Master Blender says. “And you probably know, and I probably know, that it is going on.” The people who don’t know, Rankin says, are the end consumers because producers are not currently required to be transparent about this on the label. East Asia Whisky Company’s Leusder picks up the point. “If you look at what Chivas Regal are doing, they are producing a lot of mizunara single malt whiskies which are just finishes and they don’t actually have an age statement so you don’t know how long they’ve been in there,” he says. “And I personally can’t really taste the mizunara out of it.” He continues: “Finishes can be gimmicky. They can go wrong. And they do not always yield the best product.” This is one of the reasons East Asia Whisky Company dips their toe in the mizunara pool but has no intention of fully submerging its feet. Its current Macallan mizunara series stops after the third release. A mizunara-finished Springbank and Bowmore release will follow, and then Leusder says the team might try and get their hands on a younger vintage and decide to age it in mizunara until the 40-to 50-year mark, when it will no longer be a finish. Dr Bill Lumsden, the genius behind Glenmorangie and Ardbeg for the past 26 years, has pioneered experimentation on every aspect of whisky production. It is telling that he has never released a product with mizunara oak in it. He says it is the taste profile, rather than sourcing and porosity, that puts him off the Japanese oak. “If I was to take Glenmorangie new-make spirit – and I’m neither confirming nor denying that I have done this – and mature it in a new heavily-toasted mizunara oak cask for 12 years, at the end of the day, I would have something that would probably taste a little bit bizarre,” he says. Lumsden says he always recalls doing a tasting in conjunction with The Glenlivet Master Distiller Alan Winchester and Suntory Chief Blender Shinji Fukuyo in London when Fukuyo presented a fully mizunara-matured whisky. Lumsden struggles to remember if it was Yamazaki but remembers the taste profile with crystal-clear clarity. He describes it in just two words: “bewilderingly strange”. Coming from a man who invented the Russian-oak matured Ardbeg Kelpie, which he says has elements of “the smell of burning rubber when a car has screeched away”, this is quite the review. Casting an eye to the future, there is little doubt producers will continue to release mizunara-finished whiskies – certainly in the short to mid term. Leusder says he thinks it will always be popular simply because it’s so rare, but predicts there will be a larger and widening gap between high and low quality. “There will be less and less of the high and more and more of the low,” he says, “and the market will be more and more confused as to which is which.” When pushed, Suntory’s Bowker says he absolutely thinks the trend will continue and other categories will start using mizunara. But, he adds with trepidation, that he hopes producers will “respect this special wood and ensure that consumers get to experience it at its best rather than being tempted by more affordable shortcuts as you so often see in this industry”. For the time being, at least, it seems like the mystical mizunara is going to continue to enchant producers and drinkers alike. And, unless things drastically change, the onus will be on the whisky drinker to watch out for the sorcery and find the magical liquid that undoubtedly exists. Browse all spirits or read more Editorial 

Mizunara has everybody spellbound. The Japanese oak – once relatively unknown and troublesome – is now desperately sought-after. Holly Motion speaks to some of the biggest names in the cask industry about what they really think of the mystical wood

Exploring why the Japanese oak mizunara – once relatively unknown and troublesome – is now desperately sought-after in the whisky world

Investigating the rare Japanese oak, mizunara

The mystical mizunara

A year after we went into lockdown, it’s hard to believe we’re still here. At the start of 2020, we were blissfully ignorant about facemasks, hand sanitiser and Zoom – but in a year the world has changed. And the wine trade with it.  Our business revolves not just around the conviviality of sharing good wine with good food, and – most importantly – good company, but on tasting. And the way we’ve tasted – flitting from producer to producer, swanning about in crowded rooms, sipping, swilling and spitting into communal spittoons – is a Covid-19 nightmare.  Of course, we’ve adapted. Bemused couriers now ferry miniature bottles of the latest releases to our team – fascinated by the welcome smiles of those delighted to be receiving a drop of the latest fine wine releases. We’ve (mostly) mastered the mute/unmute for team tastings, managing to find a way to gather virtually, sampling and discussing the precious liquid that is the life-force of our industry. It’s even opened our doors a little wider – allowing our entire team to walk (digitally, at least) amongst the vines at Castello di Ama, for us to soar over the mountains at Promontory, and talk to winemakers far and wide with just the power of an internet connection.   But at this time of year, we’re once more looking ahead to Bordeaux en primeur – the busiest time for our team, when the world’s most prestigious addresses release the nascent new vintage unto the world. Last year’s campaign was unusual: the spring’s uncertainty meant it started in a haze of clamours for the whole thing to be postponed or cancelled. It was rapidly clear that the en primeur week – when the world’s wine trade gathers in Bordeaux to taste the new vintage – wouldn’t be possible, but that didn’t stop the show going on. Instead samples were sent around the world, tasted in kitchens, offices and garden sheds rather than the glamour of Bordeaux’s Classed Growth châteaux. A little later than normal, the campaign proceeded as normal.  Now we find ourselves in a worryingly similar situation, planning for a Covid-era campaign for the 2020s. It looks increasingly unlikely – with a third wave sweeping through France – that we’ll be able to make it to Bordeaux (although we’re trying our best), and if we do that it will be only with a much smaller team. In any other year, we’d have just returned from our first trip to get a feel for the vintage, preparing for a bigger team to go out for en primeur “proper”.  The challenge with en primeur, in particular, is the fragility of these young wines. Drawn from barrel, not yet fully formed, these are relatively unstable samples, not yet braced for a rollicking world-tour. Tasting at a property, with the winemaker, means that everyone tastes the same wine – the wine at its very best, not a bottle that, perhaps, suffered a little on the journey, or has had the fruit dulled by a dose of sulphur to sturdy it for its voyage. When you think about the pressure for these bottles to perform, it’s no surprise that the Rothschild stable opted last year to fly in samples via private jet for an exclusive no-expense-spared tasting at Waddesdon Manor.  For us, at least, the 2019s almost all showed superbly, with 99% living up to their potential – allaying our concerns regarding the delicacy of these Bordelais babes-in-arms.  Of course tasting in the UK also comes with its pros – many of which were well-documented in the wake of last year’s campaign. Rather than rushing from one property to another, it’s possible to linger a little longer over a wine. To revisit it. You can taste – and re-taste – in comparative flights, rather than depending on your tasting memory.   And – while it might not be nearly as fun as a whirlwind week of wining and dining – it’s that assessment which is key. We – and you – depend on us tasting the wines, forming our view of the vintage, to recommend the wines that deserve a place in your cellar.  This year, we are basing our plan on tastings in both Hong Kong and the UK, with samples shipped to our offices, tasted as soon as possible after their arrival. We’ll be tasting in shifts to ensure social distancing, Zooming in winemakers to dig into the conditions and decisions that shaped the wines. It might lack the sheen and sheer fun of traditional en primeur, but the show will go on.   Learn more about Bordeaux or read more Editorial 

Each spring, the wine trade’s eyes turn to Bordeaux for en primeur. But – once more – the campaign looks to be shackled by Covid-19. Here, we look ahead, considering how we’ll be tasting Bordeaux 2020 

Looking ahead to Bordeaux 2020 in another Covid-19 year – and how the wine trade will assess these en primeur wines with travel restrictions still in place

Exploring Bordeaux 2020 in another Covid year

Bordeaux 2020: encore, mon ami 

The smallest event can set us on our path. A chance encounter, a favourite book narrated to us as a child, or a popular culture icon that we’re desperate to imitate. For Meghan Ireland, it was a double-page spread in a magazine. She might not remember who it was about, but the subject lit a fire in her that burns just as brightly many years later. “I was like wow, that’s what I want to do,” she says – eyes as wide as saucers – in the back room of the WhistlePig farm-cum-distillery in Vermont. The Whisky Advocate feature on a female Master Distiller showed the second-year Chemical Engineering student and “total chemistry nerd” a career she hadn’t previously considered open to her. “I got super determined after that,” she says. After cutting her teeth in a craft cider role, Ireland joined WhistlePig, or “the playground for distillation” as she describes it, which was under the inimitable stewardship of distilling icon Dave Pickerell. “He was just an amazing guy,” Ireland says. “Big personality and incredibly smart. He was always pushing innovation and experimentation and that’s something that has really stuck with this company.” Pickerell’s untimely passing in 2018 sent shockwaves across the industry, and many still talk about the role he played in the craft spirits revolution and subsequent rye whiskey revival. Many twittered about the fate of WhistlePig without the great man and his boundless creativity. This speculation only intensified after his successor’s short spell at the helm of the company. Today, Emily Harrison and Meghan Ireland head up distilling and blending at WhistlePig and, if their enthusiasm and first whiskeys are anything to go by, then those naysayers were very wide of the mark. “Dave gave us the ability to kind of run wild and create different experimentation options,” Ireland says. This creative energy is palpable in Ireland’s words and evident in everything the team has produced to date. “To this day my CEO asks me on a weekly basis, ‘What’s your new idea? What are we trying this week? What’s the new concept?’ He is always pushing, and he is always asking.” For some, this relentless pursuit might be draining, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Ireland. “To actually be able to explore and experiment with different options has been awesome.” Since its inception in 2015, WhistlePig has gone from a slightly obscure project to a formidable force on not only the American whiskey, but global whisk(e)y, stage. To get the brand off its feet, Pickerell and founder Raj Bhakta were very transparent about the fact they sourced whiskey from elsewhere in Canada. Today, the distillery is making strides in becoming a truly farm-to-bottle rye whiskey. “As much as we can, we want to produce a product that is ours fully,” Ireland says. “We are excited about releasing more and more of our own stuff to show off to the world what we can do here in Vermont.” The 500-acre former dairy farm is in a unique position – conceptionally and geographically. While the land may be fertile and the agricultural produce is verdant, the soil and water are both incredibly hard. As a consequence, the team has continually experimented, adapted and learned the best ways to use its triple terroir – grain, water and wood – to its advantage. “It makes who we are,” Ireland says. “You’re starting with very simple ingredients – rye and water. So, they are going to make up a big part of your flavour profile. I think terroir is huge in any distillation process.” Another huge part of the innovation at WhistlePig and the thing that really excites Ireland is the single finish programme. The Whiskey Blender has carte blanche to pick barrels and make one-off products. Part of her role, and one you sense she relishes, is finding the barrels. Ireland scours barrel libraries and leans on her contacts for anything new and exciting that appears on the market. There’s little she won’t try at least once. “I’m willing to put whiskey into anything,” Ireland says with those wide eyes. “I’m always looking for something different and unique. It’s fun to see when it’s going to hit that sweet spot between under-finished and over-finished.” She has been experimenting with Triple Sec and apricot brandy barrels, and a “couple of different wine finishes” are all maturing when we speak. The way the stills are designed (by Pickerell) allow for flexibility and are perfect for experimentation on both the front and back end. As with any experimentation, there have been some less successful outcomes. “I did a coffee barrel that was awful,” Ireland says, stifling a laugh. “It was bad. I was thinking like Irish Coffees and I thought it could work really well. People drink whiskey and coffee together anyways but that did not turn out good.” She hasn’t abandoned that idea just yet though. “I do think there are some adjustments that I could make and potentially still get a good product on that line of thought, but our first try was not there.” In terms of unicorns, Ireland says there are a couple of different Californian barrels she’d like to try and she’s trying to get her hands on a rosé barrel. “Not a lot of rosés are barrel-finished,” she says. “But I think that would be super interesting and a lot of fruity flavours would come into the whiskey potentially.” For the time being, the Whiskey Blender is experimenting with the many barrels she watches over. “I’m going out pretty regularly and pulling samples and trying to hit that point where I think we get the best flavour out of the different barrels. I’m getting to continue to push the boundaries of what we can put whiskey into.” One suspects it won’t be long before Ireland’s story inspires a whole new generation of chemistry nerds. Browse all available WhistlePig whiskeys or read more Editorial 

Since it stormed onto the whiskey scene in 2015, WhistlePig has rarely been out of the headlines. Success, tragedy and villainy have all befallen the zero-generation distillery in its short history. Holly Motion talks to the bright new light at the Vermont-based innovator

WhistlePig's bright new light on the next chapter in the Vermont-based rye whiskey innovator's history after a period of flux and front-page stories.

The story behind WhistlePig Rye Whiskey

WhistlePig: behind the headlines

In some parts of the wine industry, oak has almost become a dirty word. Many winemakers eschew its use, seeing it as something that homogenises varieties and styles with its overbearance, given its potential to dominate a wine’s final flavour. The use of new barriques in particularly has become less and less popular in varieties that are more prone to oxidation and whose delicate aromatic nature is lost to the perfume and spice of toasted oak. This certainly seems to be the case for the Italian varieties Sangiovese and Nebbiolo, for which there is a decided swing back towards more traditional, larger, old oak vessels that do not impart oak flavour to the wine.  Although Burgundy’s Pinot Noir and Chardonnay have a great affinity to new oak, its use is declining significantly. Today in the world of fine wine, terroir is the trumping card and if new oak is a barrier, then its use starts to be questioned – but the Bordelais have long been strong affiliates to long ageing in barrique and the additional complexity that this brings wine.   Amongst Bordeaux’s elite, there remains a strong endorsement for the continued dominance of oak. Hugely influential producers such as Ch. Margaux have no qualms about using 100% new oak. Winemaker Philippe Bascaules believes criticisms of overusing new oak are due to “the weakness of the wine” – rather than the power of the oak. For Bascaules, “The most important quality it brings is the evolution of the tannins,” – and this is something he is not willing to give up. After many years of experimentation, Ch. Palmer's Thomas Duroux (another of the region’s leading names) also believes the oak barrique is the vessel that best develops the tannin structure of a wine. For him, the 225-litre barrique provides the perfect ratio of wine to wood and level of oxygen exchange for “building the wine”, and thus creating more structural complexity. But for some vignerons, new oak does has its limits. Duroux himself is well aware of new oak’s ability to overpower other flavours and he tries to maximise structure, while not losing the primary fruit character and aromatic complexity of the wine during oak ageing. He has come to his own conclusion that the best approach is to age the wine in two phases.  From November to July, he ages the wine in 225-litre barriques (either new or one-year old oak). Then from the July after harvest to the following July, the wine is transferred to larger oak foudres (2,900-litre barrels). Duroux describes this second phase as, “the refining period, where the wine becomes more integrated, more delicate – without taking on oak flavour or oak tannin”. He started trialling this method in 2017 and now Palmer has 20 foudres in operation. For the 2020 vintage, 30% of the wine has been aged this way. Bruno Borie (Ducru-Beaucaillou), however, feels that the reason for using new rather than old oak is often misunderstood. It is not the flavour that is important, but the cleanliness of the vessel. With wines such as the reds of Bordeaux, where pH levels are fairly high, it only becomes more important, since the wines are prone to bacterial spoilage, something that plagued the region in the 1980s and ’90s.  “We don’t sell wood, we sell wine,” Borie says. “We just use new wood because it is clean and sterile.  Brett [Brettanomyces, which causes bacterial spoilage] is so dangerous.” Older barrels are difficult to clean effectively after use, agrees Margaux’s Bascaules, and when a barrel is beyond a year old, the risk of microbial spoilage simply becomes too high. For Duroux, the older barrels also develop a sulphate compound which can “dry out the wines”.   Oak flavours are undoubtedly integral to the flavour of Bordeaux – but even its strongest supporters are today more open to understanding and better controlling its effects. Although Bascaules has no plans to change how Margaux is made, he is excited to learn what the wine would taste like without oak.  Over many years working at the château, this is something he has never experienced and still does not know. He has plans to experiment with glass amphorae, the idea being that by knowing what Margaux tastes like without oak, it will help him better understand how different elements bring flavour to the wine. “Many flavours people assume are from oak are not,” he says. “Cabernet Sauvignon, for instance, can produce coffee-like flavours. Often it is the reaction of oak and fruit that creates the flavours together.” Using these new glass amphorae will bring a better understanding of Margaux’s DNA – or at least this is what he hopes. Borie also notes that long oak maturation is essential for extending the ageing potential of the wine, something alternative vessels simply cannot do. “We make wine for collectors, wines that can be cellared for decades. Bordeaux’s ageing potential is very important, it is one of its signatures,” he says. Since 2003, Borie has extended the time Ducru-Beaucaillou spends in oak from 12 to 18 months to further extend the wine’s 
longevity. “Longer maturation in oak brings a special textural complexity, a different level of integration – a melding of tannins,” he explains.  But there are others in Bordeaux committed to oak alternatives. One of the region’s top châteaux that has made a significant switch from oak is Ch. Pontet-Canet, which has been ageing 35% of its wines in concrete amphorae since 2012. For Pontet-Canet’s Justine Tesseron, “Too much oak hides too much of the fruit flavour.” The clay amphorae, she feels, “help to keep the freshness of the fruit and keep the purity of the wine”. Happy with the results, Tesseron is considering increasing its proportion in the future, convinced they aid them in retaining “a pure expression of what the terroir is giving us”.  But no one in Bordeaux is giving up on the oak barrel altogether. In fact, the strongest advocates of alternative vessels tend to think a combination of both is where you can achieve the most complexity. Guillaume Pouthier from Ch. les Carmes Haut-Brion is known as one of the more experimental vignerons in Bordeaux and was amongst the first to introduce clay and glass amphorae as an alternative to oak. He feels clay in particular is “very interesting” as it allows the same oxygenation as barrels but you keep the “freshness, you keep the first aromatics of the wine”. He has some 2018 still in clay amphora and it smells like it was just picked.   Ageing wine in glass containers, however, sees no exchange with oxygen, meaning “the tannins don’t evolve” and the resulting wine is “very pure”, something which he feels adds energy to a blend although can risk making the wine “too hard” if there’s too much. For Pouthier, small proportions of wine aged in clay or glass brings additional complexity to the wine, working in combination with oak-aged wine.   Despite these tentative steps into alternative vessels, some have been less than impressed with their experiments. Bruno Borie comically uses history as his guiding light: “Amphorae were used prior to the Romans. But the Romans introduced oak because they saw it as an improvement – they chose the gods of the forest. Being ancestors of the Romans, we should do the same.”  For the top growers in Bordeaux, such as Ch. Lafite, oak still remains an incredibly important element in their wine. With their own cooperage on site, they produce 90% of the oak they use each year, with the Grand Vin typically seeing 90% new wood. Lafite’s Jean-Sébastien Philippe believes that in addition to building volume in the wine, oak also adds important “aromatic and flavour complexity”. These additional layers of flavour are down to the skills of the cooper and, for him, are something that should be celebrated. “Light and delicate toasting – not vanilla or coconut – but toasted spice adds complexity to the wine,” he says. While Cabernet Sauvignon clearly has a great affinity to the barrique, Cabernet Franc and Merlot seem to have better results with larger oak foudres and amphorae. Nicolas Glumineau at Ch. Pichon Lalande is going to start trials with glass and concrete, having been really impressed by wines, in particular, aged in glass. “The more structured the wine, the better it is in terms of definition and tannic structure. I was impressed with the results with Merlot, but the Cab Franc was stunning,” he said.   Pomerol’s Ch. l‘Evangile is experimenting with ceramic jars, which they believe not only “preserves intensity, purity and freshness of the fruit, but causes a vortex [within the vessel] constantly moving the wine around, resulting in more contact with the lees, that brings a more rounded, silky texture to the wine” .  While their influence remains minor in the final assemblage, these new amphora advocates are convinced that their judicious use adds complexity to their wine – and oak alternatives look set to become a permanent fixture for many in Bordeaux. For châteaux, like L’Evangile, these experiments are happening in conjunction with a reduction in the percentage of new oak in recent years (from 80% to 50% for L’Evangile) and they are not alone.  Overall, despite the healthy levels of experimentation going on in the region, oak barriques still reign supreme in Bordeaux. In their trials with alternative vessels, many vignerons have fallen back in love with the unique properties of the oak barrique. While cement, clay and glass, as well as larger oak, will continue to play a minor role at some properties, it’s unlikely that the barrel will fall from favour anytime soon.  Read more about oak in Finding the balance: the art of the cooper or explore Bordeaux 

A region where producers were once known for using 200% new oak, Bordeaux has long championed the barrique. But at a time when winemakers around the world are looking to alternatives for ageing wine, we talk to Bordeaux’s leading names, asking whether their love affair with the barrique is over

Chx. Margaux, Palmer, Ducru-Beaucaillou and more on the Bordeaux region's relationship with the barrique – and why it may have fallen from favour

Bordeaux and its relationship with the barrique 

Is Bordeaux over oak?

We have unearthed an absolute gem in the guise of Rosso della Centa, a 100% Merlot wine grown on just one hectare of a distinct marl clay hillside in Friuli, Italy. The wine is the creation of one of Italy’s top winemakers Nicola Manferrari who first produced the wine in 1985 and has gone on to release it only in top vintages, producing just 1200 bottles per vintage. 

As we have managed to source a small parcel of Rosso della Centa 2010, we explore the history of this incredible and rare wine.  Friuli ranks highly among Italy’s finest regions for white wine production, producing some of the most vibrant, mineral, saline whites on the planet. The global reputation of the top wines of Friuli continues to grow, gaining fans throughout the world and firmly positioning it on the global fine wine map.   Whilst more famous for their white wines, top grower Nicola Manferrari has a very special one-hectare plot dedicated to red wine. On taking over the family vineyards in 1982, Nicola was not happy with the quality of wine coming from this Merlot site. So much so he took to studying French and French winemaking to learn the secrets of Bordeaux and then apply these techniques to his own wine, to get the best out of this unique site. He states that François Champagnol’s Elements de physiologie de la vigne was one of the most intellectually stimulating reads of his life. Nicola Manferrari is one of Friuli’s original trailblazers. Along with Mario Schiopetto, Josko Gravner and Silvio Jermann, Manferrari was just one of a handful of producers in the 1980s who had the vision and courage to follow his convictions.

He experimented with the 1982,’83 and '84 vintages before he was happy with the techniques he had adopted and, matched with the perfect weather, managed to produce something exceptional, releasing the inaugural Rosso della Centa in the 1985 vintage. Nicola was confident that he could create the first world-class red wine from the region and was not swayed by his neighbouring premium sites opting to plant Cabernet Sauvignon rather than Merlot. But for Nicola he believed the Merlot was perfect for the clay and collio marl soils in which Cabernet Sauvignon struggled.   The ’85 was a critical success, described by the critics as the "First Great Friuli Red". Other greats of the region include Enzo Pontoni of Miani fame and Christian Patat from Ronco del Gnemiz have followed in his footsteps making incredible Merlots from the Friuli region.
Nicola Manferrari continued to improve the wine buoyed by its critical acclaim, further reducing the yield, increasing the vine density (more than 7000 hectares per hectare), introducing shorter pruning techniques, using no fertiliser and complete grassing in the vineyards to improve the soil health. The wine is fermented in small 12 hl wooden vats and are matured in small oak barriques for four years. Only the finest vintages are released as Rosso della Centa. 
In the summer of last year Monica Larner (Wine Advocate) had the opportunity to taste some more recent vintages of Rosso della Centa. “Looking over my scores, I can't help but notice how consistent they are across vintages and varieties. Results like these are hard to achieve, but not at Borgo del Tiglio. She goes on to describe the ’06 as “musical and operatic in character… there is complete harmony and silkiness here in another gem from Borgo del Tiglio’s cellar”.

"Nicola Manferrari and his family have been working tirelessly since the 1982 vintage to become a benchmark for winemaking in Friuli Venezia Giulia." Monica Larner, Wine Advocate 

Larner did not have the opportunity to taste the mythical 2010 but we pulled a cork on it this week to find out how the wine has developed and we were blown away by the quality. This is a superb rendition retaining everything that is great about Italian wine – the acidity, freshness, dried floral notes and herbal spice along with all the greatest assets of fine Merlot – the rich expansive multi-layered tannins that provide tremendous depth on the palate and the rich mid-palate juiciness full of black fruits and now with age a beguiling leather and earthy savoury notes. The wine has tremendous energy whilst showing handsome tertiary development and to retain so much acidity in a grape that often lacks it underscores just how fantastic this wine is. 

Nicola believes this steep southwest slope of marl and sandstone is perfectly adapted for his old vine Merlot providing a marked elegance and complexity in his Rosso della Centa. The 2010 certainly reflects this and with only 1200 bottles produced virtually impossible to find. This is a unique parcel unlikely to be seen again and is entering into a beautiful drinking window. This wine is a piece of Italian winemaking history and one for any afficionado not to miss. 

It is always difficult to put fine wine into words but Nicola Manferrari’s philosophy outlined on his website gives possibly the greatest insight into this pioneering spirit of Friuli:
“I believe that in effect, the path I have followed has left its mark on the character of my wines which have, according to many, their own maker’s trademark. Over the last twenty years, I have transformed, studied and debunked certain common beliefs and have also overcome - while allowing plenty of room for the sacrilegious power of empirical observation – some of my own personal taboos. I have observed, researched and innovated in the face of hypocrisy and prejudice. 

"Often, however, while doing this I have unwittingly renewed ties with ways of the past which were interrupted by a modernity which had lost all sense and memory. It was probably my unorthodox approach to the world of wine that has guided my choices, meaning this also includes my checkered educational history; I was at the same time a child of scientific teachings and an orphan of technology. This has taught me to take absolutely nothing for granted, and the words of Galileo, which accompany me wherever I go, have taught me to be humble when facing all situations, and to be dignified when dealing with people.” 

Explore more Editorial

Whilst more famous for their white wines, one of Friuli's top growers, Nicola Manferrari, has a very special one-hectare plot dedicated to an incredible and rare world-class Merlot, Rosso della Centa Friuli 

We explore the history of the incredible and rare world-class Merlot Rosso della Centa Friuli 

Ronco del Gnemiz

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