Vajra's 2007 Dolcetto d'Alba Coste & Fossati

When I first got into wine, and when I first found out about the reds from the Piedmont, I drank more barbera than I did dolcetto. And why wouldn't I? The neophyte follows the expert, and check out what the eminently reasonable Robinson and Johnson say in The World Atlas of Wine: "Barbera is now Piemonte's second most glamorous red grape... Piemonte's third red grape is Dolcetto." The sentiment is repeated more or less strongly in every wine book I've read. All such authors go on to praise dolcetto, but the hierarchy is clear, and as the usually-reasonable price points for the wines are usually not so different, why wouldn't have I opted for what should be the better wine?

The hierarchy, I found out, is meaningless to me, for I've experienced terrific wines made from both grapes. I value good barberas for their acidity and their peppery spice notes, and I value good dolcettos for their sweet fruit, their slightly bitter citric qualities, and the way they're apt to convey dusty earth notes. It's a matter of what I'm in the mood for and what I'm eating. And all things being equal, I find that dolcettos are more flexible at the table. The better examples hit all the marks: a pinch of earth, just enough tannic structure, lovely but soft acidity, refreshing bitterness, and plush yet firm fruit, the way a black plum or black cherry is plush yet firm. So I opt for Piedmont dolcetto a bit more frequently than I opt for Piedmont barbera. Sorry, Jancis!

Still, as much as I've grown to appreciate dolcettos from the Piedmont, I wasn't quite prepared for the 2007 G.D. Vajra Dolcetto d'Alba Coste & Fossati. At $35 this is far more expensive than any dolcetto I've had but it's also hands down the best. As the name implies, the grapes come from two vineyards in Barolo proper. This, my friends, is respect, respect for a grape that doesn't have to be third-tier. The soil in both vineyards is Tortonian, and from what I've read it's thanks to these calcareous marls this wine is indeed open and aromatic (the harder sandstone soils in the eastern part of Barolo are less friendly to early wines).

The Vajra shows depth and beautiful structure. Gorgeous, dusty boysenberry aromas waft from the glass. As for the palate, when McDuff had Vajra's 2006 Lange Nebbiolo, he noted the wine's "firm grip and slightly chalky tannins wrapped around a core of bright red fruit." Dolcetto is not nebbiolo, and I think the Dolcetto d'Alba comes from different vineyards, but substitute blue fruit for red and this description nails this to a T.

Dolcetto's modest tannins help it play well with substantial fishes, and the multilayered, elegant Vajra was great with a slab of sable that I pan seared and topped with shallots sauteed in a balsamic reduction. The wine's acidity cut through the fish's oily texture and the tannins were firm yet delicate enough to aptly frame the fish's sweet, fleshy meat. Meanwhile, the barely-sweet fruit played well with the reduction, while the earthy notes parried nicely with the fish's saltwater notes. I'm pretty sure this would also play well with roasted pork, mushroom risotto, pasta with tomato sauce, toasted polenta...

Two Satisfying Piedmont Reds

I can't afford to drink the greatest Piedmont reds with any consistency — I have but three bottles of Barolo stashed away — and even the barberas from producers like Giacosa and Giacomo Conterno are special treats. Still, I'm not willing to settle for a simplistic wine; even a modestly priced dolcetto or barbera needs to be more than just juicy and vibrant. So I'm glad I recently found one of each variety that hit their typicité marks and still deliver that something extra at around $15.

Vivalda Massimiliano Monferrato Dolcetto d'Asti 2006
I've been too often disappointed by dolcetto to invest much time finding the better examples, but this one happens to be quite nice. Vivalda grows their fruit in Nizza Monferrato and vinifies the wine simply, using steel exclusively. I was a bit surprised to learn this, for the cherry fruit in the '06 dolcetto purrs rather than shouts and is balanced by a somewhat complex earthiness. The mouthfeel is complete. If you're serving risotto or truffle-flecked pasta and you don't have a Barolo handy, you could happily pop this cork instead.

Tenuta Arnulfo Barbera d'Alba Costa di Bussia 2006
Tenuta Arnulfo's vineyard is sited within Barolo near the commune of Monforte d'Alba. While Monforte soils are typically Helvetian, the soil at Arfulfo is mostly calcareous Tortonian marl. Arnulfo does not specifically state that this barbera comes exclusively from estate-grown grapes (the label says "estate bottled by..."), but barbera is planeted to a few hectares there and it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume that some proportion of the wine is made from these grapes. Whatever the source, this cask-aged barbera is young, juicy, and vibrant, with soft yet structured tannins, but there's more going on here than simple vitality, for the subtle earth, cola, and spice notes suggest nascent elegance. These subtler pleasures make all the difference, and I'd love to track this over the next two years.

Two 2006 Italian Reds

Sorry for the spotty posting. As always, though, I have some things to say about wines that are anything but spotty; in this case, two 2006 Italian reds. I didn't deliberately hunt down either the vintage or the country. Instead, it was like they came to me.

Carpineto Chianti Classico 2006
Carpineto may have a modernist reputation, but that doesn't mean they produce New World lookalikes. Rather, this is fresh, balanced, and honest Chianti Classico that flashes its charm subtly. The spicy, earthy aromas hit me first; it's a moment later that I notice the layered sangiovese aromas of fresh and dried cherry, lavender, and thyme. On the palate the energy is simultaneously vigorous and relaxed, with lovely acidity and velvety tannins, and over the next few years I'd drink this with anything this side of shellfish.

Canaiolo makes up 10% of the blend and all the grapes are dry farmed. The fermented wine is aged in cask for six months.

Giuseppe Nada Dolcetto d'Alba Casot 2006
I am not a label whore, but the drab rose printed on the Nada labels suggested a drab wine. Now I feel dumb, because this is the finest dolcetto I've ever had (not that I've had tons, but still...)

This traditionally-styled, single-vineyard dolcetto has all the bright red fruit you'd expect, yet its depth and complexity is top of the pops. With each sip its many layers of fruit, earth, and savoriness are driven by refreshing acidity and supported with substantial, well-structured, fine-grained tannins. It was almost a shame that my friends and I drank this with a mundane pizza — even if it was a good pairing.

This wine was $18 and so good for its price that I rushed out to buy Nada's 2001 Barbaresco Riserva (also from the Casot vineyard) for $32. I've no doubt it was money well spent.