Wine, Campania’s art and craft

IT was the mention of a boar’s head that mystified me, though it could have been the dialect too.

Sensing this, winemaker Paolo Mastroberardino studied my face carefully.

“Please tell me again,” I said.

We stood on a bluff overlooking one of his vineyards in the Avellino province of the Campania region of southwest Italy. Paolo braced his body and fought to talk into the wind.

“Every once in a while, we’ll find a decapitated boar in the field,” he said. (Cinghiale, or wild black boar, run so fast chasing game through fields that they sometimes behead themselves on the barbed wire.)

“Aglianico grapes can have the taste of leather, but not because of the wild boars,” Paolo said. “It’s the aging that sometimes gives the Aglianico its leather notes.”

Oh. OK.

When people think of southern Italy, Naples often comes to mind. But the nearby cities of Benevento and Avellino, home to some of the oldest grape varieties in the world, are at the core of the region’s burgeoning wine revolution. A new generation of serious winemakers is popularizing indigenous Campanian varieties, such as Fiano, Aglianico, Greco and Falanghina, and producing some high-quality wines.

Just mention traditional winemaking and get an earful from Campanian winemakers, who insist they craft wines in the traditional manner.

“When a customer drinks wine,” Paolo said, “it’s important for them to know it comes from here and no other place in the world.”

Avellino has three wines that have earned the coveted Denomination of Controlled and Guaranteed Origin status, meaning the traditional wines are produced under strict governmental controls and are tasted before each bottling. Typically, a DOCG translates into bigger sales for the winemaker. There are 30 DOCG-rated wines in Italy, and three are from Campania: a red, Taurasi, and two whites, Fiano di Avellino and Greco di Tufo.

The wines are the reason I stood on a Benevento train platform on a humid June afternoon last year, waiting for my friend Alycia Honeck, with whom I would stay. We planned day-trips to visit wineries, meet producers and learn about Campanian wine. I speak Italian, but Alycia, facile with the dialect because of her marriage to a Benevento man, was a godsend. She’d already made appointments at the wineries.

We scheduled two winery visits a day, but often distance, local lore and plain luck determined our destinations. More often than not, a visit turned to touring, touring turned to tasting and tasting turned to eating. Many second appointments were canceled or rescheduled so that in two weeks we visited only seven wineries.

Wine touring in Campania’s interior provinces is not like touring in Napa. In this part of Italy, everything takes time, and visiting winemakers is often like an unexpected day with family who refuse to let you go home. You can’t say no to a slow tour of hidden vineyards or a sampling of reds and whites.

At the train station, Alycia greeted me with a stern warning: “We’re booked for days; I hope you’re ready.”

Cantine Antonio Caggiano

Antonio CAGGIANO’s winery is in the town of Taurasi, about half an hour from Benevento. We met him on the outskirts of Taurasi, then followed his dusty blue car to the winery. A smoldering cigar hung from his lips.

His main wine, Taurasi, is the stud of southern Italian viticulture, the first to earn the DOCG. “Taurasi -- it’s like a young person wanting to become old; you need time,” Antonio said.

Antonio, an architect, modeled his winery on those in the historical center of Taurasi. “Before the war,” he said, “cantine looked like this.”

Well, yes and no. We followed him into a musty subterranean entryway, which spilled down into a labyrinth of connecting tunnels lined with wine bottles. Antonio intended the organic space to be as pleasurable as his wine, filling it with soft lighting and eclectic sculptures created by local artists. The sound of running water, from a natural spring that maintains optimal humidity levels for aging, echoed off the walls.

Mustilli

After Taurasi, we decided to try Benevento wines, driving west to picturesque Sant’Agata dei Goti, a medieval town that has seen its share of conquerors. Benevento’s wines lag behind Avellino’s in reputation -- none carries the DOCG seal -- but we had heard that the Mustilli estate produced top-quality wines.

The Mustilli cellar, which sits below the family’s small manor, is about 500 years old. Reds are primarily stored there now. In its disorienting, yeast-smelling darkness, I followed enologist Anna Chiara Mustilli, feeling my way along the elephant-skin walls.

“They’re made from the local soft volcanic stone called tufo,” she explained. “All the village has been built upon this stone.”

At the bar, she poured a 2003 Falanghina. My first-ever taste of Benevento’s traditional white reminded me of green apples.

Fattoria Torre Gaia

The rain had turned to a downpour by the time we pulled up the long dirt road to Torre Gaia wine resort, not far from Sant’Agata. An old tower stood sentinel over the estate and an expanse of lush vineyards, which swept from the valley up to the mountains.

“Ohmigod,” Alycia breathed, when she saw the setting for the 19th century villa, the former estate of a wealthy Italian banker.

The jaded, American part of me didn’t cotton to Torre Gaia’s “wine resort” concept in rustic Dugenta, Benevento. The resort, surrounded by 100 acres of vineyards, is easily the most exclusive in the area, with monogrammed towels, tennis courts and tastefully furnished rooms. When I visited, a renovation was going on. Nine guest rooms, of 30 planned, were finished in the main building and in little farmhouses where the grape pickers once lived.

Too Napa, I thought. But I got over it -- after eight courses, including pecorino del matese (sheep’s cheese), maialino con verdure (pork with vegetables) and wild boar ham, and six wines.

“We’re trying to promote the best food and wine of Benevento,” said Nello di Caprio, the food and beverage manager. “Smell.”

Steaming risotto with porcini arrived. I was caught in a pairing, and I knew it. An Aglianico-Sangiovese blend we drank, Cortinolfi, was grown where the porcini grew.

Colli Irpini

The next day, we headed to a winery in Montemillieto because we had heard that a winemaking giant lived up in the hills.

No giant loomed in the clean lobby, just a petite, reserved agronomist. Rosa Pesa is an owner of Colli Irpini, a partnership of three women, a rarity in an industry dominated by men.

“A 25-year-old woman in this area just doesn’t start her own business,” Rosa said. “It was something I had in my heart, a thing you do or go out of your mind for not doing.”

Colli Irpini buys grapes from select growers and makes most styles permitted in Benevento or Avellino provinces under the Montesole label.

Rosa filled three glasses with a chocolaty liquid and three others that held a ruby tone.

“Both Aglianico grapes, but....”

“But?” I asked.

“Completely different characteristics,” she said. As Italy’s production laws dictate, Aglianico from Avellino aged three years (at least one year in wood) is called Taurasi. Aglianico from Benevento has to be called other things, like the Sannio Aglianico we were tasting.

Cantine Di Meo

Siblings Roberto and Erminia Di Meo were slowly inebriating me, urging me to try food and wine pairings. Clever, I thought.

We’d just finished a tour of the Cantine Di Meo vineyards in Salza Irpina, about 10 minutes west of the town of Avellino. The winery is organic, and wine is made only from grapes the Di Meos grow and pick.

“Tradizione,” Roberto said. “Try some wine?”

From the vineyards we hiked up to the office, which is more like a comfortable living room dominated by a long, rustic table.

Wiping her hands on a towel, Erminia popped her head out of the kitchen: “Mangiamo?” (Shall we eat?) she asked.

For several hours, the two worked like a tag team, bringing mortadella, bruschetta and the crowning dish, formaggio ubriaco, cheese fermented in wine for three years.

Alycia’s eyes glazed over. “Crumbles like biscotti in my mouth,” she mumbled.

Afterward, Erminia poured their grandmother’s top-secret, handmade liqueur and set out bits of bitter chocolate. The 12-herb beverage is made partly from various Taurasi infusions.

It kicked.

Cantine di Marzo

A distinguished-looking man stood under a sign: “Cantine di Marzo-Tufo (AV).” It was Filippo di Somma, owner of the winery, who eyed me.

Behind him stood his family’s noble stone castle, which seemed to sprout from a gigantic tufo rock towering over the Sabato Valley and the community of Tufo. “Badly damaged in the 1980 earthquake,” Filippo said.

We followed him up gigantic tufo stairs, then down into the wine cellar.

The Di Marzo winery produces only two labels, each made up of 100% Aglianico or Greco grapes. Tufo is Greco grape country, from which Avellino’s most recognizable white is made. Ancient nomadic Greeks brought the grape to Italy. But the grapes that Filippo’s family brought from Mt. Vesuvius to the valley are called Greco di Somma.

Filippo focuses on Greco di Tufo wine. “The rules allow you to use 15% of Coda di Volpe grape, but we don’t,” he said.

Just as I was feeling cellar claustrophobia, we emerged, and Filippo’s enologist brought out two chilled bottles of Greco from 2002 and 2003.

Filippo tasted. “Acidic, light, let’s say, because it was raining, raining -- 2002 was a particularly difficult vintage,” he said.

But 2003, he said, was the opposite -- more substance, more everything. “It’s the way of nature.”

Terredora di Paolo

If one winemaker left me feeling enthralled about Campania and its wines, it was Paolo Mastroberardino, a member of a family-owned winery near Montefusco in Avellino province. On a sunny Monday, this stern-faced winemaker drove us to some of his favorite vineyards and vistas.

The name Mastroberardino is synonymous with winemaking in the south, with two renowned wineries in the family, Mastroberardino and Terredora.

“We don’t do blends, even though it’s the fashion. We think it’s a mistake,” Paolo said, pulling the Jeep next to a field of Fiano di Avellino. The grape is indigenous to Italy and is considered among its most ancient.

I followed him through a rickety gate, stepping on soil with the patina of an Etruscan ceramic. Mastroberardino examined bunches of lime-colored buds. The tight structure pleased him because it would ward off disease and be “good for grappa.”

Bees darted around.

“Our Campore wine is influenced by bees and the almond trees,” he explained.

Later, we drank a 2001 Campore, a Fiano. Mastroberardino studied my face again. “Dimmi,” he said. “Tell me.”

I was intimidated but tried. “Honey domination, perhaps a peach?”

“Apricots. We try to mold all that nature gives us and try to give back what it gives to us,” he said.

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(BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX)

The good life in Italy

GETTING THERE:

From LAX, Lufthansa and British Airways have connecting flights (change of plane) to Naples. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $1,265. Benevento and Avellino are located about an hour east of Naples.

From LAX, Lufthansa, Delta, Continental, Air Canada, British Airways, Northwest, American and US Airways have connecting flights to Rome. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $950. Benevento and Avellino are about 2 1/2 hours south of Rome.

TELEPHONES:

To call the numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international dialing code), 39 (country code for Italy) and the local number.

WHERE TO STAY:

Torre Gaia resort, 11 Via Boscocupo, Dugenta; 0824-978-172, www.torre-gaia.com. Torre Gaia is pulling out all the stops to give customers a wine experience. There are tennis courts and pools, and the resort is kid-friendly. Nine rooms available, 12 by mid-July. Doubles, $96-$115, include breakfast; half- and full-board plans are available.

Mustilli, Arcadia, 20 Via dei Fiori, Sant’Agata dei Goti; 0823-717-433, www.mustilli.com. This 17th century palazzo is for travelers who want to get away from the city, slow down, eat, drink wine and soak up tradition. Six double rooms are down the street from the cantina. There are stunning views of Sant’Agata from the balconies. Doubles $85 with breakfast; dinner $24-$31.

WHERE TO EAT:

Valleverde Zi’ Pasqualina, 112 Via Pianodardine, Atripalda; 0825-626-115, www.ziapasqualina.it. Excellent selection of local specialties such as sweet prosciutto, fresh ricotta cheeses, local sausages. Main courses about $30.

Cantina Mustilli (see above). Locals come from miles around to drink Mustilli wine and sample traditional flavors. Appetizers about $5.

Ristorante Donna Giulia, at Torre Gaia (see above). Best of typical food and wine from Benevento. Main courses $7 to $15.

THE WINERIES:

Torre Gaia resort (see information at left) .

Cantina Mustilli, contact Giovanna Siscaro by e-mail at info@mustilli.com (English spoken).

Cantine Antonio Caggiano, 0827-74723 .

Montesole/Colli Irpini, 0825-963-972, e-mail info@ colliirpini.com .

Cantine Di Meo, 0825-981-419, e-mail info@dimeo.it.

Cantine di Marzo, 0825-780-195 (English spoken).

Terredora di Paolo, 0825-968-215, e-mail info@terre dora.com (some English spoken).

TO LEARN MORE:

Italian Government Tourist Office, (310) 820-1898, www.italiantourism.com.

-- Angela Frucci