The New and the Old wines

I am writing this from a train in Tuscany, somewhere between Florence and Rome.

The bigger jump was landing from Dubai into Italy, where I made the more significant transition between the world as we know it today and the wonderful world of art and extravagance and a whole plethora of emotions. And then similar quizzical paradoxes came up when we went wine tasting in Greve-in-Chianti.

Such a quaint little place, but it is almost the capital of the Chianti region. Apart from visiting wine houses like Vinomaggio and the fantastic Fonterutoli, I tasted very fine wines at the local Enotecca, which has one of the largest wine collections of not just Italy, but the world. They cover appellations and
winemakers in extreme and meticulous detail.

They had, interestingly enough, two large carousal-like machines which dispense small tasting portions of wines when you insert your pre-charged credit card into it and press a button corresponding to the wine you want. Nifty. One machine was dedicated to all the classical styles — Chianti, Brunello, Vino Nobile.

The other had what the wine-media has smartly termed Super Tuscans. These were a wine movement that started when certain winemakers discarded traditional local grapes in favour of international grapes.

They didn’t stop the innovation there, going on to incorporate extreme oak influence to create a whole new style of wine: rich, heady, powerful, super-expressive, toasty-fruity, caramel-coffee finish. Even as the authorities condemned such antics, the style caught on with the public and soon these wines started outselling the classical nuanced stuff.

The dual carousal gave me a chance to try both the wines styles. The new one was more expressive, more bite, more matter. The classical ones seemed almost feeble. While we were all impressed by the super-wines when it came to lunch, we all opted for the fruitier wines of Chianti.

And this was an interesting revelation. For all their might, we found the wines too austere and stringent. The older style appeared more approachable and friendly, without being frivolous.

The new wines tasted good but with their rich fruit overdrive and oak-coated layers, they seemed too suave to belong to anywhere in particular. They could have come from any vineyard as it was technology that seemed to have invented them rather than nature having given birth to them.

Best of all, the classics were a lot more affordable. They didn’t leave us bankrupt or too drunk to see straight. They tasted of the region, and I could tell that for all times to come, whenever I have a sip of such wines, I will continually be transported back to the region where the wines came from.

So this is my thought. Disregard wines which usurp their own origin and erode their identity. Drink wines with a sense of belonging. Especially when that identity is as dynamic as Italian, I think there is every reason to flaunt it in (classical) style.