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The Modern History of Italian Wine

Book Review: The Modern History of Italian Wine

There has been a revolution in the quality and availability of Italian wines that tentatively began in the ‘60s and ‘70s and continues unabated. What was unclear until this book were the cumulative reasons behind it, and how their interplay led to the transformation of Italian wine. Hence, the Modern History of Italian Wine tells this story.

Today, it is hard to believe that Italian wine was such a backwards industry just a short time ago; without technology, investment or marketing. Mostly, winegrowing was still peasant share-cropping with no incentive to improve. There were a few outstanding wines, but these were known only by insiders and were not on the international stage. They were lost, in a vast sea of mediocrity. Economically, Italian wine was in crisis.

I recall working for Marks and Spencer’s in the mid-Eighties. Even then, the only Italian wine they stocked in most of their stores were one-litre bottles of “Italian Red” table wine. There was no clue to the grapes used or the region of production. It was awful; the only merit was that it was dirt cheap. At least it came in a glass bottle rather than a plastic one. At most, we knew (and avoided) bad examples of Lambrusco, Asti and Soave. We took those to parties and then drank beer. Chianti still came dressed in fiaschi, best used for table lamps. Good wine was French; it always had been and, at that time, looked like it always would be. Even the Italians thought that.

An example: The first edition of the Wine Atlas by Hugh Johnson in 1971 lumped Italy into a very short chapter entitled “Southern and Eastern Europe and the Mediterranean.” Meanwhile, France got 72 pages for itself, with details of every region. That wasn’t because of blindness; it was because there was nothing to say. Fast forward to the present. The 6th Edition devotes 37 pages to Italy.

The journey to excellence has many strands. Examples include the discovery of local specificity and terroir – the sense of place. Now there are regulations on quality and frequent revisions to DOC, DOCG and IGT rules. There is increasing use of local (and rare) indigenous grapes as well as the international varieties. The adoption of innovation and technology in vineyards and wineries was vital, and often influenced by the New World. The development of skills, not just in winemaking, but in business, risk-taking and competition was needed. The result has been a massive uplift in quality and worldwide recognition.

The finest wines of Italy can now achieve stratospheric prices, and some have become “investment grade.” Many Italian wines are no longer cheap. They have also created new categories, such as Pinot Grigio and Prosecco. Not every wine is good quality, but many now sit easily alongside the world’s best. The Wine Atlas 6th Edition now sports 35 pages on Italy.

It’s perhaps easy to look back on these developments with hindsight and declare them obvious. That’s especially so if you’re sitting down in the armchair with a glass of Amarone. But the journey from plonk to world-renowned excellence must have been long and arduous. The path can’t have been clear at the time. Indeed, Angelo Gaja, the Barbaresco-meister, is quoted as saying, “to reach paradise, Italian wine had to pass through Hell.”

So this book fills the gap between what was and what is, comprehensively and arguably for the first time. It describes this journey in all its intricate twists and turns. In doing so, it tells a compelling story. It melds the experience of different producers and different regions into a coherent whole. With so many interwoven factors, that’s no mean feat.

The book divides into sections with clear timelines. It makes navigation easy, and each one has articles written by guest experts. Themes include innovation, oenology, research and science, international markets, heritage, food, sustainability, tourism and marketing. There’s an excellent review of the history of dreaded regulation and its usurpers and how it has helped and sometimes hindered developments.

These forces have together created a virtuous circle where the winegrowers are the visionaries and the engine drivers. The farmers became the entrepreneurs.

The section on geography is perhaps the heart of the book, a who’s who of two hundred of the finest wineries grouped by region, charting their rise and influence decade by decade. If you have favourites, it’s likely they will be there.

Most of the big themes are here too, though I’m disappointed that Franciacorta, (Italy’s only sparkling wine region that can rival Champagne), seems largely overlooked – a plea for more depth in the next edition. It may only be small, but for me, it encapsulates the revolution in microcosm.

I was particularly pleased to see Burton Anderson, (my Italian wine-writing hero, often imitated, never surpassed) credited as the first to shine a light on Italian wines. Nowadays, Italian wine has no lack of wine-writing friends (erm, including me), yet once it had none.

Indeed, the revolution has become a permanent one, as winegrowers and regions continually strive to improve. Even Italian wine labels now look penned by Bertone or Pininfarina. Think of the brio of the Ferrari 488, rather than a rusty Alfa Arna.

The book concludes with an excellent section on Italian winery architecture and design. Perhaps this is the boldest statement of success, ambition and the winegrowers philosophy. They’re the new Secular Cathedrals writ large.

The Italians are hardly alone in transforming their wines. Today, it’s going on all over the world. In Europe, the Languedoc, Spain and Portugal are replicating this model. Not that long ago, Australian and New Zealand (and English?) wines were the butts of a joke. Château Chunder is no more. Great wine is everywhere, so the only way to compete is to go on improving.

What’s next for Italian transformation that could go in the second edition of this history? Well, I’d love to see clearly defined Grand Cru and Premier Cru vineyards in a similar model to Burgundy in the classic regions of Piemonte, Tuscany and the Veneto. That will probably never be politically feasible.

I would, however, like a section on Italian women in wine though. No longer are they strangers in a man’s world and indeed are some of the best winegrowers.

Perhaps most obviously, Climate Change is the big issue that will affect every region and responses are emerging. For example, in Franciacorta, a return to Pergola training and the inclusion of the Erbamat grape are conscious innovations. How Italy deals with Climate Change will be critical. In this, they are not alone.

And the greatest Italian wine? There’s plenty of room for debate, but I believe it’s Tignanello. It didn’t just give Chianti a kick-start, it redefined what Italian wine could be.

The Modern History of Italian Wine is a beautifully produced hardback, with good English translation, thick white paper and colour photography throughout. It’s a pleasure to read and to learn. Now shortlisted for the Gourmand World Wine Awards European wine book of the year 2017. May 27-28 2017 will reveal the winners.

The Modern History of Italian Wine, Edited by Walter Filiputti. English Translation, 1st Edition, Hardback. Published by SKIRA Editore, 500 pages. ISBN 978-88-572-2623-1

£27.30 at Amazon

Comments 2

    1. Post
      Author
      Paul Howard

      Thanks, I’ll check it out! A list of some of my favourite influential winegrowers in Italy that are women would include Foradori, Le Pupille, Occhipinti, Corte Sant’Alda and Cantine Barbera, and much more. How women have established their credentials in what was a male-dominated industry deserves recognition in this book.

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