11 JUNE 1988, Page 49

SUMMER FOOD AND WINE

Wine

New spirit in Chianti

Harry Eyres

In Chianti in May it was difficult to concentrate on the wine, especially a wet May like this one (nearly 200mm of rain by the 24th), which has brought out an asto- nishing profusion of wild flowers, poppies, dog roses, monster crimson clover, irises, bee-orchids to distract you from the stony roads winding unceasingly among the chestnut and oak-covered hills.

Some might say that in order to preserve the sense of Chianti as the great good place it is essential not to concentrate on the wine, just gulp it, always after a mouthful of pasta, so that its rough stalkiness and hollow middle flavour do not jar. Chianti certainly went through a terrible period in the late Sixties and early Seventies, but no one visiting a dozen or so of the new breed of clever, committed, hard-working pro- ducers could doubt that there is a revival under way. Piero Antinori, head of the most dynamic firm in the region and scion of a great Florentine merchant and bank- ing dynasty, prefers, perhaps a little fanci- fully, to use a different word: 'There is a renaissance of Italian wine, and like the earlier artistic one it started in Florence, with Tuscan wine'.

If you look in a renaissance for a sense of serene harmony and perfect proportion, the Tuscan wine industry does not qualify. It is full of opinionated, strong-minded individuals all offering slightly different views. Few feel they have come near to realising their ambition: to many it seems like the beginning of a long, uncertain road.

Behind this putative wine renaissance is a great agrarian revolution. In the mid- Sixties the immemorial system of share- cropping (farmers giving 50 per cent of their produce to the landlord and keeping the other 50 per cent — 'a wonderful system', aristocrat Leonardo de'Frescobal- di remarks wistfully) suddenly ended: young country people streamed to factor- ies; Chianti became in parts quite deserted. The face of the vineyards changed: the old sytem of mixed or promiscuous cultivation was abandoned in favour of specialised vineyards planted in long vertical rows. Most of this planting — and herein lies Chianti's great problem — was done with quantity rather than quality in mind — high-yielding clones, gentle slopes where- ver possible.

The late Seventies and early Eighties saw the inevitable crisis, as Chianti among other wine regions began to drown in the lake of insipid mass-produced beverage wine fed from many sources, and prices dropped below the line of viability. At this nadir, however, money began to flow back into Chianti, invested by wealthy families, often Milanese or Roman, initially attracted by the idea of restoring neglected old properties then going for a song. At Volpaia and Ama, entire villages have been bought and preserved in amber — from the outside at least: at Volpaia the ultra modern winery installations are housed in different village buildings: stain- less steel fermentation tanks lurk in a romanesque chapel.

Some of the New Chiantigiani, as they have been called, were more interested in visual aesthetics than in wine: not so the owners of Volpaia or of Ama, where the 85 hectares of vineyards have been divided into 97 plots, each one separately analysed for soil and microclimate with a meticu- lousness more Californian than European.

SUMMER FOOD AND WINE

They saw very clearly that the only way forward for Chianti was the pursuit of quality — but how to achieve it? It is here that the differences of opinion became fascinating, the atmosphere at times mili- tant. To start with grapes: of the four permitted varieties, Sangiovese (and pre- ferably the clone called Sangioveto grosso) reigns supreme; hardly a good word is said for the two permitted white varieties, Malvasia and Trebbiano, at least in red Wine, and Canaiolo Nero, once king of Chianti, is reduced to a paltry five to ten per cent of the average blend. NiccolO D'Afflitto of Castel Ruggero, a likable Young maverick, trained in oenology at Bordeaux, defends Canaiolo: 'In good years it is finer than Sangiovese, but it is a difficult variety. And in big years like '85 some white grapes are good for balance.' Even he agrees that Chianti must concen- trate for the moment on getting the best quality from its leading, distinctive grape: that means finding the best clones (In Clonal selection we are a hundred years behind Bordeaux'), reducing yields (the 1984 change from DOC to DOCG and the efforts of the Gallo Nero consortium have helped, for Chianti Classico at least), and Concentrating on the best, steep vineyards.

But can Sangiovese on its own produce great, or simply balanced wine? For those brought up on claret, it seems sharp, aggressive, often hollow. So why not add the claret grape, cabernet sauvignon, Which flourishes in Tuscany and rounds out the rough-hewn Sangiovese? Antinori did so, with Tignanello, and the market re- sponded enthusiastically: at Carmignano, Contini Bonacossi established a cabernet- blend enclave. Almost every leading estate in Chianti now has a few rows of cabernet: under DOCG up to ten per cent may legally be added. With cabernet came barriques, those ubiquitous receptacles Which threaten to make every wine taste the same, to replace large and antique chestnut botti.

But is cabernet chianti? Not according to Paolo de Marchi, a bright and engaging Piedmontese who has revitalised the twin estates of Isole e Olena. 'I think we will have a problem with cabernet. We can make very good cabernet in Tuscany, but it covers the taste of the Sangiovese.' De Marchi, together with some other new- wave producers (Volpaia, Ama, Castell'in Villa) have managed, using a judicious mixture of barrels, new and old, large and small, American and French oak, even (out of choice) chestnut, to produce a less aggressive, more concentrated chianti from the traditional varieties. It has a lovely violety bouquet (more burgundian than clarety to my nose) and rich plummy fruit on the palate — with the slightly sharp plum- or damson-skin finish which is part of chianti's personality.' To prove his com- mitment to Tuscan tradition, de Marchi even makes an excellent vin santo, often an accursed beverage. Really good chianti can age, too. D'Afflitto's 1979 Riserva has mellowed and gained complexity, scents of sealing-wax and tobacco, up to good cru bourgeois claret quality. As for Frescobal- di's Nipozzano, the 1961 Riserva is perfect- ly balanced still, haunting in its delicate aroma. A cru classe without doubt.