Following a day visiting three “modernists,” where the hallmark was elegance and delicacy, I set out to visit three “traditionalists,” to see if I could define their common distinguishing feature.
Vietti is located in the heart—well really one might say at the top of—the hilltop town of Castiglione Falletto. Set in two buildings around a charming courtyard, the only place to build the winery is below, so it extends for three storeys underground. The oldest part is right up against the medieval town walls. The modern era at Vietti started when Sabino Vietti returned from the States to take over in the early twentieth century. Known as the “crazy Americano,” he had strange ideas such as buying land in other communes.
“We have always been known as a Barolo producer,’ says Elena Vietti, but Barbera is very important to us—we try to make extraordinary wines from the ordinary.” Some of Vietti’s vineyard sites in the Barolo DOC area that could be planted with Nebbiolo are planted with Barbera. La Crena comes from vines planted in the 1930s, and Scarrone Vigna Vecchia comes from vines more than 85 years old. Far from the rustic reputation of Barbera, these offer a creamy sophistication with deep flavors.
A stainless steel vat stands in front of a window in the old fourteenth century walls in the Vietti cellars.
“We consider ourselves one of the most traditional wineries,” says Elena, “for example, in using very long maceration times, but many things that are modern are normal now. It’s not just about botti and barriques.” She describes Vietti’s philosophy. “So long as you do not impose your personality, so long as you respect the soil, it’s traditional.” Vietti has vineyards in 15 different areas, but produces one blended Barolo and four single vineyard wines. “It would be very complex to produce 15 different Crus.” All the wines are vinified by parcel, but after two years of maturation in botti, all except the single vineyard wines are selected either for the Barolo blend (called Castiglione) or are deselected into the Langhe Nebbiolo, which is effectively a second wine. Going up the line, the Lange is quite restrained, Castiglione shows more aromatic life and delicacy, and the single vineyard wines are yet more refined. There’s a lovely contrast with the Barbaresco, which has a more savory, earthy character. No argument here that traditional winemaking is representing the differences in terroir.
From Vietti’s terrace on one side of the valley, you can see across to Serralunga d’Alba on the other side, where my next visit was to Massolino, which is in full flight of expansion, with a large extension to the cellar, just being completed, looking over the valley from the edge of the town. “All our Barolos are aged in traditional large botti, with very neutral oak,” says Franco Massolino. Neutrality of the oak, which comes from Slovenia and Austria, is a major concern here. Wines are vinified in cement vats. “We did experiments with stainless steel and cement, we always preferred the cement, although it’s a very fine detail,” Franco explains. Vinification for the single vineyard wines is always exactly the same in order to bring out the differences in terroir.
Massolino’s new cellar contains both traditional botti and modern barriques.
The Barolo makes a classical impression with relatively light color and delicacy of expression. Then Margheria shows a little more intensity, a sort of silky sheen covering the palate. Coming from older vines, Parafaoa is deeper and velvety, a lovely balance between concentration and delicacy. Then Parussi shows more power and a more savory inclination. There is simply no mistaking the fact the terroir is the driving force, as the wines show the full range of Barolo, from subtle delicacy to smooth elegance, and each is quite distinctive.
There could scarcely be a greater difference between the snazzy modern cellars at Massolino and the old cellars of Guiseppe Mascarello, located by the railway station in Monchiero. “We are 3 km out of the Barolo DOC,” explains Elena Mascarello, “but we are a historic cellar, so we are authorized to make the wine here.” The building, a slightly dilapidated looking warehouse, dates from the second half of the eighteenth century, and Mascarello has been making wine here since the 1920s. Concrete or fiberglass tanks are used for vinification; everything is matured in rather old botti—there isn’t a barrique in the place.
I had to move my car to make way for a huge truck arriving at Mascarello.
The famous Monprivato, coming from a vineyard in Castiglione Falletto, is the biggest production here. Tasting the 2010, I was startled by how approachable it is already. I quizzed Elena as to why Monprivato today should be more approachable than it was when first produced in the 1970s, but it seems that whatever changes are responsible lie more in viticulture than vinification. Purity of fruits shines out, the tannic structure is very fine but somewhat hidden behind the fruits, and there’s a silky finish. Coming from what is surely one of the most traditional producers, this has none of the toughness of youth that you might think is the marker of tradition, and perhaps shows the greatest purity of fruit in my tastings so far. Roll on tradition.