Everything about this wine is catnip for the wine-curious: it’s made in Lazio, an Italian region that rarely appears on wine lists and wine-store shelves; it’s made from Nero Buono, a grape I’d never even heard of until last week; and it’s made by a co-operative that’s been keeping the vine-growing culture of its region alive since 1947.
And it retails for less than $20. This wine geek was sold.
It only got better once I got it home and pulled the cork from the funny squat bottle. I’ll be honest: there was a moment of doubt, when the wine seemed reticent, and I wondered for a moment if there was a little bit of oak influence quashing the fruit. But after a splash into a pitcher (I live in an NYC apartment; I don’t have a decanter) and re-cant into the bottle, it was clear that it just needed time and air to relax.
As I wrote in my tasting note: 'This starts out tight and resinous at first, but give it air and it blossoms. What tasted almost like sappy oak turns into deep spice; the tight red fruit mellows into chocolate-covered cranberry territory. All the time, though, the wine holds on to its acidity and its savoury minerality.’ That mineral note reminded me of the black volcanic salt a Hawaiian friend once brought me – a sort of salty-ashy flavour that brought out the umami in everything it touched. That flavour worked the same way in the wine, lending it a depth that was surprising for a medium-bodied red of just 13% alcohol. It's mouth-watering and hunger-inducing. (To be specific, it made me crave eggplant Parmesan, though it was terrific with pasta tossed with well-roasted Brussels sprouts and Parmesan cheese, and the folks at The Wise Old Dog in Connecticut, who sell this for $18 if you pick up at the store, suggest jollof rice with cubed goat and steak with chimichurri).
I emailed US importer Rob Mackin of Artisan Wine to ask how he discovered this wine, and he responded, ‘I had read about a variety called Nero Buono and aside from the name giving me a little chuckle, whatever I read also insinuated that it made the best red wines of Lazio, and I had nothing at all [in my portfolio] from Lazio … So I had to try some for myself. The way VinItaly is arranged, predominately by region, it was easy to go into the Lazio pavilion and taste 10 different Nero Buono wines in 20 minutes. That was in 2016.’
The fact that he chose to import the example made by the local co-op is a clear indication of its quality; it also makes sense when you understand two things. The first is the importance of co-operatives. As Mackin points out, ‘the co-op structure keeps old traditions in families that have grown grapes for centuries sometimes. In the past, they sold to the “nobles” who made the wine, but tending their smaller plots, often not large enough to justify a separate winery, keeps them tied to their land and traditions, which is something I think and care about a lot.’ Think, too, about the challenge a co-op winemaker takes on: in the case of Cincinnato, winemaker Mattia Bigolin and manager Giovanna Trisorio have to advise more than 100 winemakers farming some 550 ha (1,359 acres) of vines, coordinate picking and delivery, and put all the many, many pieces together into wines that not just taste good but speak of their homeland. This is not an easy job.
Trisorio, however, points out in an email that they are blessed with an incredible landscape in which to make their wines. The vineyards for this Nero Buono sit at 200–250 m (656–820 ft) in elevation in the Lepini Mountains, where the soils are a mix of red volcanic earth and calcareous marine deposits. Rainfall is 800–1,100 mm (31–43 in) annually, and temperatures average 14.5–15.3 °C (58.1–59.5 °F), but the slopes rise high enough to catch the breezes off the Mediterranean, just 30 km (19 miles) away, keeping the vines fresh. While wet springs can lead to outbreaks of downy mildew, botrytis or rot, the climate is such that the co-op’s growers have been able to farm organically for decades, certified since 2006.
Whether this is the environment that Nero Buona likes best or it’s just that the co-operative has poured so much energy into its revival is up for debate. As Ian D’Agata writes of the grape in Native Wine Grapes of Italy, ‘Legend holds that it was brought to the area of Cori, immediately southwest of Rome, by Cincinnato, the ancient Roman statesman and farmer who settled in the area in the fifth century BCE, after defeating the Equi tribe, and propagated the variety.’ He continues, ‘There is no hard proof of this to the best of my knowledge, though they beg to differ at the very high-quality wine co-operative named after Cincinnato.’
Cincinnato’s research points to its cultivation in pre-Roman times, and they’ve devoted an immense amount of energy into its study. Trisorio reports that, after two rounds of DNA mapping (in 2001 and 2020), it’s confirmed ‘that this grape has no known relatives up to the second degree’. There are no clones (although D’Agata points out that there are many biotypes – this is apparently very clear just from a walk through the vineyards, as the vigorous vines have very visible distinctions) and all plantings are done through mass selection.
Today, Cincinnato grows 25 ha (62 acres) of Nero Buono, and Trisorio says there are 111.28 ha (275 acres) total in Italy, 98% in Cori, the municipality in which Cincinnato is based. This is up from 85 ha (210 acres) 25 years ago, when there were just three producers working with the variety. Now, says Trisorio, there are more than 10. The availability of fruit has allowed the co-op to explore the variety in many styles. Lelio, the cuvée I’m recommending here, is organically farmed and fermented in stainless steel; Pollùce is its non-organically-certified counterpart. There is also a Cori DOC (an appellation devoted entirely to the local Bellone for white wines and to Nero Buono for reds); the barrique-aged Ercole; and Bombo, a sparkling rosé.
Happy exploring!
Cincinnato is imported into 19 countries, including by Artisan Wine in the US and Winetraders in the UK; at the moment, Lelio is not available in the UK but York Wines carries the Pollùce 2021 for just £13.95; you can also find adjacent vintages of it at Banstead Vintners, Cuculo Heathfield and Roberts & Speight.
Photos courtesy of Cincinnato.
To explore more of the wines Lazio has to offer, see our tasting notes database.
