It’s been a long-standing joke amongst my friends that in the case of nuclear war, my house would be the bunker in which we’d see it out. I am – and have always been – a hoarder. My pantry is always stocked with beans, lentils, grains and, this being an Italian household, there’s no chance of a pasta shortage here! Nor is there a run on jars of tomato sauce because last year’s crop was so abundant that we’ll be good for many more months.
Whilst I’m pleased that World War 3 hasn’t broken out, I honestly hadn’t thought that I would ever need to break into that great stockpile of groceries but now with all of Italy in lockdown, it has become a reality. The one thing that hadn’t featured into my plans was a 6 month old baby. We adults might be able to get by with a little improvisation here and there but there’s no getting around the absolute need for powdered milk and nappies… fingers crossed the shops don’t run out! The one upside of having a baby is that those little bottles of hand sanitiser, which are now worth their weight in gold, were already lurking in each and every handbag.
I guess the other reason that friends earmarked my house is because maybe they hoped I’d also be forced to reach into the dusty section of the wine cellar or spirits cabinet and open something that had been saved for “a special occasion.”
As it so happened, the bottle that I chose last night was Lun’Antica 2014, a refermented vermentino from Terra della Luna in Liguria. It’s a small winery, making natural wines, located just south of the Cinque Terre on the Mediterranean coast.
One of the signs that I haven’t yet become completely Italian-ised (besides my deep suspicion of the existence of a colpo d’aria!) is that I love a slight oxidation on a white wine. That nuttiness. The exhilaration that comes from combining salted pistachio with flint stone. The 2007 Filagnotti from Stefano Bellotti had that same quality when I still had some of it back in 2014-2015 and it’s stupendous!
They say that oxidised wines lose their fruitiness… but in this case, whilst the initial headiness of the wine’s youthfulness has indeed faded, it hasn’t gone flabby in any other way. In fact I’d even go as far as saying that the fact that this has been on the lees for these past 6 years has only helped the maturation of the wine. It has a dark gold, honeyed colour and a muscly mouthfeel. I love how vermentino so often and ably carries the salinity of the Mediterranean. This is no exception, and the power and elegance tantalises your gums.
“But what is this wine?” asks my long-suffering husband. “Is it sparkling? Is it not? Was the refermentation intentional?”
“Don’t think too much,” I reply, “Drink!”