Monday dawned a little clearer and the Vosges loomed large as we set off to meet Olivier Humbrecht MW at his winery in the Heerenweg vineyard just outside Turckheim. Lest we were in any doubt about the weather, Olivier explained that this year’s May was more like an average March, but that the rain was more welcome viticulturally than the dry conditions which have recently strained vines in the region, last year particularly.

A detailed summary of Alsace’s unique and variegated terroirs followed, with Olivier keen to dispel the generalisation that the fertile vineyards on the Alsatian river plain necessarily produce the region’s least interesting wines. The varied topography here means that gravel and loess outcrops can produce compelling wines, even if the lack of the rich mineral deposits found elsewhere (and above all in Alsace’s Grand Cru vineyards) means that grapes do not reach their zenith at these lower altitudes.

Zind-Humbrecht’s wines (from a fluctuating body of 40 to 50 ha of vineyards) undergo gentle pressing over 18 to 24 hours, and natural sedimentation of the must followed by fermentation after about 10-15 days. This can last anything up to a year. The wines are kept on gross lees to build character until the April following the vintage. Tasting-wise, we found ourselves spoilt for choice but most memorable were a captivating 1990 Gewürztraminer Grand Cru Rangen with a nose of beeswax and saffron followed by crème brûlée on the palate and a 1988 Pinot Gris from magnum, with hay giving way to notes apricot and truffle. That most of the wines we tasted had been open for a few days was testament to their concentration and staying power. Fantastic.

Next on the itinerary was Hugel et Fils, where we met export manager David King. One of the region’s most highly-regarded family businesses, Hugel is keenly positioned to build on its export heritage in Asia and the Middle East where its wines were known before the Second World War.  Alsatian white wines have a distinct advantage over some in this regard: they are varietal wines easily spotted on wine lists and seem to complement Asian cuisines particularly well.

China and Japan are prime markets for the 100,000 cases or so produced by Hugel each year, from a typically-parcellated 180ha of vineyards split between some 350 growers. Vinification of Hugel’s three ranges ‘Classic’, ‘Tradition’ and ‘Jubilee’ (the latter being produced from hand-picked grapes from vineyards owned exclusively by the family) still takes place on-site at the company’s ancient premises in the centre of Riquewihr, with élevage split 50:50 between tartrate-encrusted oak and stainless steel. This despite constraints of space and increasingly onerous health and safety regulations which now classify wine production as an industrial rather than agricultural enterprise… no mean feat. Tasting highlights included a fine 2003 Pinot Noir Les Neveux – one of the more creditable reds we sampled during our stay – rich with soft ripe tannins (very of its vintage) and vibrant raspberry pip fruit.

After an excellent lunch at Restaurant Taverne Alsacienne in Ingersheim (cabillaud sauvage with new season asperges blanches), we made our way to Domaine Josmeyer in Wintzheim. Founded in 1854, this estate produces some 200,000 bottles from 26ha of vines, 5ha of which are classified as Grand Cru. 70% of their production is exported with just 25% retailed in France. These were without doubt some of the most impressive wines we tasted, with intense varietal expression across the range. The highlight was a 2000 Riesling Grand Cru Hengst with archetypal minerality, concentration and poise. True to the house style, their 2000 Gewürztraminer Archenets was particularly noteworthy for its emphasis on spice, with notes of clove and mace framing the pungent rose and lychee fruit character with aplomb.

Our visit to Domaine Rieffel the following day saw our first trip out to the vineyards and a chance to put the familiar names of Zotzenberg, Brandluft, Gesetz and Wiebelsburg into context. After the chocolate-box frippery of Kaysersberg and Riquewihr, Mittelbergheim and its spectacular setting in the lee of the Vosges was a taste of the real Alsace, an impression no doubt bolstered by the first sunshine of our stay. The gently sloping, south-east facing Zotzenburg vineyard was a lesson in the importance of aspect in this part of the world, with Riesling, Gewürztraminer and Sylvaner all doing well here on mixed soils of calcaire jaune and clay. Madame Rieffel encouraged us to engage in some ébourgeonnage – stripping growth away from the trunks of the vines – before taking us to see Wiebelsberg where the characteristic pink sandy soils on a steeply-pitched slope give leaner Rieslings.  Their 2007 Riesling Zotzenberg Vendage Tardive was a memorable example of the late-harvest style with tarte tatin fruit balanced by liminal acidity.

After another helping of new season asperges blanches (paired with Muscat of course) our final trip of the stay was to Domaine Ostertag in Epfig. André Ostertag’s 14.5 ha split between over 100 parcels produce some of the most sought after wines in Alsace and a trip to his 2.3ha holding in Muenchberg (‘monks’ mountain’) certainly endorsed his philosophy that behind great wines are great places.  The Ungelsberg summit casts a long rain shadow over this south-facing, natural amphitheatre where mixed soils of red sandstone and volcanic sediment produce richly-textured wines from 75 year-old vines. Just as in the Haut-Rhin, the cold winter and spring has retarded growth by up to a fortnight this year and André explained that the heavy rain of the last few days was welcome given the lack of moisture-retaining clay in these parts.

André’s aim is to go beyond the relatively simple exercise of balancing acidity and sweetness which can preoccupy Alsatian winemakers and make wines of real character. For his Pinot Gris, this translates into barrel fermentation in 228 litre barriques coopered, in Burgundy, from 100% Vosges oak. His 2007 Zellberg Pinot Gris was a case in point, with perfectly balanced fruit and sinew. The focus on terroir at Domain Ostertag extends beyond Riesling (a variety much lauded for its ability to express minerality) to inform all that they do, with André’s Gewürztraminer vinified ‘through Riesling eyes’ to produce a taut, concentrated style quite distinct from the heady and sometimes overblown wines produced from this grape. Excellent.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity to taste some German wine, we topped off our stay with a quick hop over the border, where lunch was accompanied by a fantastic local Grauburgunder from the volcanic soils east of Freiburg. A fitting end to four superb days in France which left us with an enhanced understanding of the importance of terroir and a lasting impression of Alsace’s unique ability to produce such a diverse range of wines in so many different styles.

Today it belongs in its 2.29 hectare entirety to Domaine de la Vougeraie, whose winemaker Pierre Vincent came to London to present all 10 vintages that Vougeraie have bottled of this wine – 1999 to 2008 – since purchasing the vineyard from l’Héritier Guyot. Pierre took over from Pascal Marchand shortly after the 2005 vintage, so we could see the hands of two different winemakers at work. The main technical differences between the two regimes are slightly earlier picking and a little less new wood since Pierre took over.

The vineyard is farmed biodynamically, with ECOCERT organic certification. The grapes go directly to the pneumatic press for a long, slow pressing, a minimal settling of the solids from the juice, then fermentation in barrel usually without lees stirring. The wines are aged in barrel for 15 to 18 months, with a maximum of 30% new wood, which since 2006 has been sourced from the local forest of Cîteaux via tonneliers Damy, Rousseau, Chassin and Gauthier.

Recent vintages of Clos Blanc have had a natural sense of balance, as well as an impressive level of detail and notable persistence of flavour, all indicators that the monks chose well when deciding that this should be a white wine vineyard.

After tasting all ten vintages from 2008 back to 1999 we finished with a treat summoned from the BBR private family a reserve – the 1919 Clos Blanc de Vougeot bottled by Jules Regnier of Dijon. Read Jasper’s tasting notes.

In the second photograph the soil on the left is from Clos Blanc de Vougeot and the soil on the right from Clos de Vougeot.

So I see the prices of the 2009s as very high but sustainable and likely to rise in the short-term, as supply is minuscule and demand at fever pitch. There are several major reasons why I don’t see them subsiding: Firstly, the technology advantages are helping make far better wines than in the past; Secondly, the châteaux are holding far more stock back and dripping cases on the market rather than a deluge and, of course, why would they crash their own wines’ value? But probably the most significant factor is that in 2005 we did not have China as a massive player in the fine wine world, as we do now. What is slightly scary to me, as a wine-lover as well as a merchant, is that we have not even seen the tip of the iceberg of demand from this incredibly exciting market yet. If you think that the top 100 “brands” of Bordeaux only produce a tiddly one million cases and are actually making less year-on-year as they try and improve their already exceptionally high quality……..we ain’t seen nothing yet!!!

There is plenty of speculation; one angle is that the restaurant is reported to lose €500,000 per annum; such is its attention to detail. Another, perhaps, more whimsical, is that Adrià is weary of ‘serving up disappointment’ to all but 8000 guests from  the 2 million or so who try to reserve a table every year …. Whatever the reason, we were fortunate indeed to be at the table of the charming Amelia Aragon, and her brother Oscar, from the Cillar de Silos Bodega in Ribera del Duero, also her husband Gavin and Richard Bigg from El Camino in the UK…. The weight of expectation was almost over-whelming…………let’s preface what follows by saying that we were far from disappointed. On the contrary.

A short drive north of the resort of Roses, itself amazingly close to the French border, therefore Collioure and Pérpignon, Bulli nestles in an a gentle bay,  calmly basking in the gentle aromas of pine and eucalypt. The restaurant is moulded into the hillside, the Cap de Crues seeming almost an extension of its ambiance and magic. This, on the eve of the Festival of Saint Juan was significant indeed, with the families on the beach, and later, fireworks serving to add to the very special atmosphere. The restaurant itself is unassuming, bright and breezy with the kitchen, as it should be, centre stage, framed by a large picture window as the heart of the Bulli experience, with Ferran himself happy to be photographed, endlessly, next to the bronze bull on the preparation table, at the same time marshalling the dozens of chefs with supreme confidence. The 70 or so staff easily out-numbers the number of guests (50); their calm redolent almost of a colony of bees, ants even, if that doesn’t sound too pejorative. But happy souls all; Bulli is completely serious but does not take it-self too seriously. The trinkets of the eponymous bull-dog are playful and prevalent; the spirit of local-boy Dali is pervasive, not least of course in the kitchen, where the alchemical symphonies are born in Ferran’s note-book, composed in a completely different key every day, in homage to the infinite diversity of nature, and man’s capacity to nurture it. This note-book is valuable indeed; it has something of Leonado da Vinci about it, the notes punctuated by drawings, diagrams and formulae which appear to lend more to trigonometry than gastronomy. Construction, deconstruction, aesthetics and symbiosis capture the process, reflecting the ephemeral nature of food itself and our duty to respect it. The watch-word here is ‘deconstructuralisation’, the mood experimental, infinitely creative and fantastically imaginative.. The rules of the game are based on a respect for the natural process, however, and here I would suggest Ferran perhaps departs, temperamentally, from Salvador Dali. Finally everything cedes to the food itself even the ‘plates’ and cutlery, many of which were initially non-existent and when they did appear were frequently shaped, bizarrely, coquettishly to best show off the food. Like Dali’s clocks, perhaps, but with a more positive and energising purpose.    Everyone and everything here resonates with a spirit of humility, refreshing in such an august establishment and yet far removed from any Calvanistic rigour. We are in Catalonia here and we are here to have fun.

And have fun we most assuredly did………………to return to the story…

After the kitchen its out onto the terrace and the gastronomic odyssey begins. Soon forgotten are the parched rigours of Ryanair and the indulgences of the Costa Brava. Now, and throughout, we are in the hands of the knowledgeable staff and the gifted sommelier, another Ferran (Cantelles) and sometimes at their mercy as they patiently reveal the secrets behind the dishes, the subtle and beguiling combinations, one saucerful of secrets after another.. This is to be an opera in five acts; Act One being  the ‘snacks’, Act Two for the tapas, the key Acts Three  and Four for the ‘avant postres’ and the ‘postres’ and the final denouement, back on the terrace, for the morphings…

One could rehearse in minute detail every single dish and attempt to explain their significance to the ensemble and the incredible resourceful quality behind their genesis. But in all honesty my expertise and descriptive capacity pales in front of so much colour, so better for now, as a humble blog ‘amuse bouche’ to provide one or two impressions and pick out a few highlights. One can not ‘reveal’ the menu per se, as there is no tangible menu card or at any rate anything resembling stasis in a world of imaginary prestidigitation, the architecture of which defies any clumsy analytic despoliation. One is presented with the menu post facto, printed for that day only, for that meal only and for that individual only. A souvenir like no other. 

One of the key themes, perhaps, is the challenge to appearance and expectations..The seemingly sweet becomes savoury, the obviously salty is in fact sweetness itself and depth and texture beguile, flatter to deceive, fascinate and invite cerebral analysis. The ceremony is ludic as one is permanently ambushed by ideas. From the outset…………with the sugar cane mohito then the so-called handkerchief….. a delicate wafer-like edifice, its filigreed elegance concealing  an incredible depth of flavour…..ginger, hazelnut and more, then sweet sweet bitter cherries doused in alcohol,  a snow gin fizz which somehow achieved a juxtaposition and inversion of the sensations of warmth and cold,  and a extraordinary frozen Gorgonzola globe (above right), which almost disintegrated after its magnificent assault on the palate. Then the mimetic peanuts with their marriage of Campari and tangerines and the spherical olives, with their oozing explosion of liquid engineering, also known as olive oil…Wow……… And we were still in out on the terrace….

As important as the element of surprise, is the complete symphonic saturation of the senses. The textures defy the touch; the colours are bright and vivid, the aromas beguiling, achieving an effortless interface with the salty sea-air and the distant sounds of the sea itself are mirrored in dishes such as the ‘pond’ where one is obliged to ‘smash one’s way into the frozen casket of mint and green tea. The wave of gustatory indulgence crash onto the rocks of certainty and everything challenges and challenges again. There are of course certain leitmotivs, but they are far from the unsubtle over-use of nitrogenous foam or a facile recourse to bizarre pairings; there is, for example quite a lot of Japanese influence, the umami flavourings finding favour, and there seemed to be quite a proclivity for parmesan, foie gras and almond. To name just three…………but this is just that, merely three of two hundred individual ingredients, all afforded a pain-staking and poetic symbiosis.

The imagination is constantly teased, the diner’s creative capacity almost sated as he tries to identify all the characters in an Opera which might make The Ring Cycle appear facile by comparison. The ladies in our group (as always, I suspect) were the best at identifying the particular tastes and flavours; Amelia excelled herself in picking out the artichoke and fennel, completely unrecognisable as either, in the ‘surprise dish’. It was one of thirty odd surprise dishes, if the truth be told, but the only one served blind. How to convey the riches without resorting to the clichés of the superlative? Impossible, but each dish was special and memorable. The flowers with nectar, their honeysuckle sucked out with bee-like delicacy; the green tea biscuits with their sushi flavours and lychee crystals; the oyster tartare consumed on a bed of oyster leaf, the white asparagus and miso soup, the melting Montjoli lentils, the coconut masquerading as caviar (and vice versa), the chorizo with ginger and honey, the apple baguettes and foie gras…one could go on and on. The meal itself lasted for six hours, but seemed far, far shorter…….like all the best and most rewarding artistic experiences. And there was plenty of room left for ‘petits fours’ aka  morphings (above left);  all sweetness and light, served from elegant cedar wood boxes and combining flavours of chocolate, almond, passion fruit, green tea, pistachio strawberry , raspberry, truffle and bitter chocolate…..the chocolate looked incredibly rich and heavy; it goes without saying that it was as light as a feather!

And what of the wines? Well Ferran’s selection was impeccable, and it was only afterwards that I realised that he had pretty much given us a who’s-who of the best Spanish white grape varieties. The Wine List stretches to 1600 references, excelling needless to say in Spain and includes page after page of venerable vintages of the greats; Artadi’s El Pison,  Allende’s Calvario and Aurus, Alvario Palacio’s Ermita and Finca Dofi , CastilloYgay, Pingus .. and the like. Our selection demonstrated the versatility and textural magnificence of Spanish white wines, including a fantastically subtle Albarino, a 100% oak-aged Godello from Rias Baixas, a white Garnacha and the most extraordinary Xarel-lo from Penedes……to mirror the wonderful Cava which had been enjoyed at the start. This is the last time I am rude about Xarel-lo as a variety! The wines combined freshness with the most exquisite and deep flavours, often redolent of the orange grove or a citric orchard in early June. The reds and sweet wines were fascinating too, a 2000 Toro almost Bordeaux-like in its elegance and an example from Montsant a perfect demonstration the intensity and depth of flavour of old-vine Garnacha from these schistous hills. The sweet wines ran the stylistic gamut, from the pineapple pastry, anis and chocolate orange flavours of the Terra Alta, 100% Grenache Blanc, to the huge complexity of the Solera wine from Empoda, its infinitely intricate fractional flavours almost keeping up with those of the morphings. The sommelier was fantastically attentive, articulate and aware, but once again marked by a sincerity and humility that is often, dare I suggest, somewhat lacking in those of his profession.

And so to the final curtain, the dance having been expertly choreographed throughout; the guests elated and happy………….full and yet not full, but completely satisfied in every sense. And it is all about sense really, not merely the five senses that have been so rigorously explored, but about what Ferran describes as the sixth sense. This is not especially supernatural, but it has its intangible element and a psychological back-drop, which is perhaps the most personal and subjective of them all. It is according to Sn. Adrià, a synthesis of memory, expectation, irony, sense of humour, mood, occasion and judgement. It is, in other words, the complete emotional, historical and psychological back-drop to each individual’s experience. In creating an astonishingly diverse, challenging and humbling experience of this magnitude Ferran acknowledges the infinite and intangible complexity of this sixth sense and in doing so, raises the status of a mere meal to a synaesthetic art form, that has to be experienced to be believed. Let’s hope the sabbatical really is only a short one!

The barrique revolution spurred the traditional, large oak botti wine producers into raising their game: a touch less tea-leaf, more fruit please. And as Pieremilio Garbellotto points out in my interview, there’s been a concurrent leap in the understanding of the role of oak, with customers far more demanding and knowledgeable about the type of oak influence they’re after. Now they’re enjoying one of their busiest periods ever, aided by a new line in ‘off-the-shelf’ French/Slavonian 10 hectare litre barrels. Even staunch Barolo modernists such as Roberto Voerzio have recently bought in a battery of botti; the first time in 14 years since trading-in the botte for the barrique.

It was more a pilgrimage than business as usual as I finally arrived at the mecca of barrel makers at Conegliano, Veneto. The Garbellotto family have been in business since 1775, with three brothers Pieremilio, Piero, and Piergregorio now representing the 8th generation. Pieremilio, head of production, whizzed me round in his golf buggy, explaining how a third of the oak used is French, the rest coming from the Balkans (‘Slavonian’); the oak is either Quercus Petraia (compact grain) or Quercus Pedunculata (broader grain) – the more agricultural Quercus Alba is favoured by the American growers/coopers. Production is 80% botti (10-100 hectare litres), 20% fermenting vats, botticelle and yes even some barriques! Toasting is still traditional and time-honoured using a fire (right), gently preparing the wood rather than burning it via a fast and fashionable zap of a laser. The wood is seasoned for a minimum two years prior to use; and it’s not just oak but also the much revered cherry, pungent chestnut, acacia and even ash. All felled in accordance with the FSC agreement set up with the WWF; the minimum oak age being approx. 120 years old.

Of the fifteen cantine visited over four-and-a-half days – cantine selected for their artisan size/focus – 40% reflected the more extracted style as championed by Dal Forno, the rest finding solace in the soil. But then as Paolo Galli of Le Ragose stated, admittedly from his historical vantage point above Negrar, ‘you can’t buy experience’; nor prime sites unless you’re willing to rebuild abandoned terraces – one I met had spent four years piecing together a two hectare vineyard. Faced with such ‘adversity’ and an increasingly competitive market, ‘new-start’ cantine are taking refuge in the technology to see them through rather than trusting in the trowel.

In these warmer times it seems that the pergola trellising system may be making a comeback, with its higher acidities, even if the higher density guyot produces a richer, earlier, more even crop year-in, year-out. The change in the weather has also accelerated a flight to the hills, in search of relief and terroir; Dal Forno for one has just bought a piece up from the valley floor in the valley of Mezzane di Sotto.

It was heartening to come across producers who had not chosen to ‘muddy the waters’ and manipulate the must (with rotos, cryomaceration, selected yeasts, enzymes, tannins etc…). I applaud the ‘traditionalists’ who seek to convey the quality of their ancient volcanic and calcareous terroir to shine through giving wines of real identity, distinction/nobilità, and drinkability. It’s a terroir particularly visible among the ‘Classico’ valleys of S.Ambrogio, S. Pietro in Cariano, Fumane, Marano (left), and Negrar, with fine sites at 250-350 metres, but also elsewhere, as per the high chalky site above Mezzane di Sotto, home to Marinella Camerani’s property Corte Sant’Alda (in the video below). It’s a terroir that deserves to be articulated clearly through the wines.

This is also the view of the Consorzio, as they look to ‘rediscover the lost identity’ of the region. Not only have they facilitated the DOCG for Amarone  and Recioto, partly to reflect the quality but also as a measure of increased control (and lower yields), but moreover they have begun promoting the individual sub-zones; no doubt in time to become ‘crus’ as here in Piedmont.

*The total surface area of  the Valpolicella district is approx. 30,000 hectares, of which hillsides (75%), valley floors (17%) and urban areas (8%). Of this 6,300 are vineyards (20% planted in the last 10 years), split equally between the historical ‘Classico’ area (fie communes above) and the more recent ‘non-Classico ’ (14 communes) extension. Interestingly of the ‘Classico’ region ‘hillsides’ represent 60%, while this figure is 46% for the ‘non-Classico’ zone. There are 2600 farms averaging 2.16 hecatre, with 93% of properties having fewer than 5 hectare –  source il Consorzio per la Tutela dei Vini Valpolicella.

Gone are the days of digging a trench and planting by hand. Now it’s done mechanically, inserting the young vine (left) into carefully prepared soil via a GPS-controlled navigation system to ensure the contours are matched. And if that wasn’t impressive enough, you’ll see from the video below the detail with which Nebbiolo clones and rootstock are mapped out according to the subtle changes in soil composition and aspect. Chiara, now ably assisted by her brother Giorgio (recently released from his duties at ‘Borgogno’, the old family winery in Barolo), is sowing the seeds for greatness – if the taste of her 2006 Cannubi, sampled this morning, is anything to go by…

With temperatures, and canopies, now rising, it was time to take to the hills this weekend, the maritime Alps an hour west of Alba, to join Chiara and her 19 cows who’ve recently made the transhumance. Chiara’s part of a ‘herd’ of Barolo producers: the so-called ‘I dieci Martini’ (so named after the ubiquitous family living in the area), investing in the renovation of derelict villages around Castelmagno; a region famous for the quality of its cheese. I didn’t so much as see the cows as hear them high above on the ridge; their bells clanging as they munched.

And then it was back down to earth, to Alba for my son Nicholas’s (left in the photo above) football final; scoring a hat-trick and awarded player of the tournament…let’s hope Fabio’s lot fare as well over the coming few weeks!

I have done several tastings of a line-up of 2009s and it has been fascinating to watch the unconvinced dropping their blinkers and reassessing their pre-judgements as they work down the line.

One of the stars has been Château Grange Cochard a name hitherto unknown in the UK, which is where the new proprietors hail from – near St Albans, in fact. It could be a classic riches to rags story as many a successful business man has thrown away years worth of hard earned money by investing in vineyards – but the first vintage (three different cuvées of Morgon) from James and Sarah Wilding (in the picture together, above) looks absolutely stunning. Can’t wait to ship them!

That view’s very different to the one I’m used to here in the Langhe, Piemonte. It’s not simply because of the predominance of (Tuscan) woodland over vine – leading to a certain isolation, non? -  but also there appears to be a cultural aspect too. Despite an ancient Etruscan history, I found that in too many cases the ‘cultural’ bit seems to have been lopped off the prefixes ‘viti’ and ‘vini’. Surely ‘viticulture’ and ‘viniculture’ are more than just the cultivation of grapes and production of wine thereof? What of that interaction between the land and its people, preserving heritage and communities; enriching lives at all levels through cultural and product integrity? It’s what makes wine more than just an alcoholic drink, does it not?

I arrived in the expectation that Sangiovese – a cultured rosy (not black) pearl if ever there was one – had never tasted so good. Since the DOCG was awarded in 1984, the Chianti Classico Consorzio (representing the growers) has reduced the defective wines of the immediate post war period. Via the ‘Chianti Classico 2000’ project they’ve helped producers improve their viticulture through better clones, advice on training methods, planting densities etc.. The upshot being vineyards designed for quality wine production and not ones that characterised the polycultural existence of yesteryear. Significantly it’s also reduced disease pressure and so in theory the use of chemical sprays. In short the potential for Chianti Classico producers to make delicious, elegant Sangiovese, in pale purezza ideally, that sings, as only it can, of the prized alberese (calcareous) and galestro (schistous) soils of Gaiole, Radda, Panzano, Castellina, Greve and Castelnuovo Berardenga is well within their reach, and yet, and yet…

…the market has changed. Recent enlargements of the (7,500 hectare Classico) zone, particularly an additional 1,200 hectare of (unpoliced) IGT Toscana, along with eyebrow-raising investments in nearby Montalcino (again in less than prime soil) and further south ‘on the beach’ – sorry – in the Maremma, has only added to the woes. The marketplace is crammed, especially in the USA but also at home, with producers of every size forced to go that extra mile to catch the eye.

This has led to too many producers seeking an exaggeration of colour, fruit and concentration in their once elegant wines. High planting densities might work for Merlot or Cabernet but don’t suit Sangiovese, leading to high alcohol fruit bombs that could have been made anywhere in the world. Then there’s the noble adoption by artisan producers of organic and biodynamic techniques in the search of terroir expression and differentiation…aped by larger entities chasing the same labels for other less honourable reasons.

Crucially I sensed that there are too many absentee landlords, whether displaced  internationals or historic families who should know better, now relinquishing control to ‘(in)famous’ consultents in return for wine journal points, access to ‘key’ journalists and to favourable sales channels….just as they once handed the keys to the contadini tending their land according to the Medieval ‘mezzadria’ system. This has in turn led to a compromise of the unique Chianti Classico brand; something in my view that needs to be articulated and protected, both in content and style. Among those on the right track, despite (they admit) sacrificing ‘Points’, are Badia e Coltibuono, Isole e Olena, Il Borghetto, Felsina, Bibbiano, Montevertine, Poggerino, Villa di Geggiano, Castello di Ama, Riecine, Monte Bernardi and San Giusto a Rentennano…

As Marco Pallanti (above), mercurial winemaker at Castello di Ama, and also President of the Consorzio, points out: ‘There’s a risk that the consultant becomes too important, for it’s the land that should lead the winemaker, not the other way round. He quotes Henri Jayer in saying that we need to understand the technology more so as to be able to do less.