I just read Neal Rosenthal’s Reflections of a Wine Merchant, in which the importer — who is well-known by his fans to be a master of the geographical intricacies of French Burgundy — confesses that he learned from Barolo to appreciate the influence of the land on wine. So it was Barolo, not Burgundy, that made him appreciate terroir.
 
I guess that kinda makes sense. Barolo is a red wine made (like Burgundy) in very small quantities, usually from single vineyards, in the north of Italy. And like Burgundy it’s made from only one, very temperamental, highly sensitive grape called nebbiolo. So, as in Burgundy, the character of the site where the grapes are grown tends to shine through.
 
Click here for our trip to the training camps in the foothills of the Alps that turned Mr. Rosenthal into America’s most notorious home-grown terroirist: So in part because Rosenthal’s book instilled in me a thirst for Barolo and in part because we were splurging on a special menu at Restaurant Gary Danko for my birthday all organized around truffles from northern Italy — now that’s terroirism — we ordered Elio Grasso’s Barolo “Ginestra Vigna Casa Mate” from the 2004 vintage. “Ginestra” refers to the village nearest to the “Case Mate” 12-acre or so vineyard where all the nebbiolo fruit that went into this wine came from.
 
We loved it. It showed really lovely aromas of crushed violets and berries. And although it was not a particularly concentrated or fruity wine — more delicate, dry, and minerally — it still had a distinct sweet berry taste in the middle. Our waiter decanted it, but still we had the pleasure of watching and tasting it unfold, getting darker, bolder-flavored, and more interesting over time in our glasses. I managed to save a few sips for our cheese course, and was handsomely rewarded.