Letter From Vinitaly: Sip ‘n’ Swirl Forever

I’ve made it through another Vinitaly, the Woodstock of wine festivals. Four and a half days of wine, food and conversation.

About 90,000 visitors, wholesalers, restaurateurs and retailers from all over the world came to taste the juice of nearly 2,500 winemakers. As always, nine huge convention halls--padiglione or pad they call them, which sounds mighty cute, given their enormous size--were filled with stands from the 20 provinces of Italy. A 10th one was filled with wine-related items--glasses, corkscrews and just about every tchotchke one could think of, and the second floor of the entrance hall housed about 100 olive oils. Should you ever attend, I recommend you make this floor your first stop--to coat your stomach before you start tasting several dozen wines at 9 in the morning.

When the gates opened on the first day, there indeed was an aura of a gigantic rock concert. Droves of over-laden taxis descended on the fairgrounds and thousands of people virtually stormed the gates. Winegeek locusts. This year, the organizers decided to blast very loud music to the entrance square, adding to the mayhem.

There was lots of moaning and complaining this year because, for the first time, there was an entrance charge, even for the “professionals.” About $25 for 4 1/2 days of unlimited tasting. Not a bad deal if you ask me. I plunked down my 30,000 lire without blinking an eye. I always love this about Italy: 30,000 for this, 100,000 for that. No problem. It makes me feel like a big spender.

Finally, equipped with my bar-coded name tag and the hefty exhibitor book that is the fairground map, I got the show on the road.

I headed straight to pad 37, booth C7, where Marc de Grazia, who looks like Oscar Wilde on an overdose of Bardolino, holds court. He represents several first-rate estates from all over the Boot, particularly from Piedmont and Tuscany.

As I approached a table full of the latest vintages from the likes of Sandrone, Altare and Il Pallazzino, I almost had an anxiety attack. It was like taking my kids to a candy store and telling them, “just taste anything you like and tomorrow we’ll try 100 new flavors.”

Each stand, for that matter each padiglione, has its individual look, ranging from small, very simply decorated spots, each with a little desk and two chairs, to elaborate mahogany-paneled mega-booths that could give many restaurants a run for their money.

Some decorate in the style of their provinces. The booths of the Alto-Adige producers, for example, always have that Alpine look with lots of carved wood and hearts and edelweiss everywhere.

De Grazia’s hangout is always one of the most lively and popular. This year was no exception: The place was so crowded that after a couple hours of tasting Barolos, Barbarescos, Barberas and Dolcettos, I felt like I was related to some of these people.

Tuscany is the Bordeaux of Italy and the Tuscan temple / hall is always the ritziest. It’s the power pavilion, and almost everyone there was wearing the checkered sports coats that seem to be the official business uniform of Italy.

Some of the exhibitors have reached such prominence that a visit with them is like an audience with the pope, or even Jimi Hendrix.

Piero Antinori, Marchese Incisa della Rocchetta of Sassicaia (a Marchese, for Pete’s sake!) or the Nonino family of Grappa fame are just a few of the awe-provoking superstars. Wine nerds are drawn to them like ants to a grounded Popsicle.

When I visited the stand of Piedmontese legend Angelo Gaja, who, to his credit, stayed with his peers in the tucked-away Piedmont pad, I felt as if I really was caught in the crush of a rock concert. Hordes of people crowded into the large stand, and periodically Gaja appeared, as if for an encore. He smiled broadly and shook about 40 hands a minute, signed books and waved to those out of reach. What a spectacle.

I finally ambushed him in the last few hours of the last day.

“Buon giorno . . . ah, Manfred! How is the business?”

*

I was flattered. He remembered my name. What a guy! Now I really think he is a great winemaker.

Of course, the expensive and fantastic Riedel glasses from Austria are obligatory everywhere and you can see them in a million shapes. Some are so large they could house a synchronized swimming team. How George Riedel keeps himself from yodeling with joy when he walks these fairgrounds is beyond me. I saw him walking around and he wasn’t even smiling. Perhaps sales are down this year in Cape Verde.

Almost everyone served food, from simple bread sticks to all sorts of salami, prosciutto, speck and even polenta. A number of exhibitors had unbelievably fresh pecorino. I almost forgot that I was there for the wine. Unlike the stodgy winefests of Bordeaux or Aspen, Vinitaly has a fun, party atmosphere, even in the Tuscan hall.

As I crisscrossed the halls, I kept running into other winos I’ve met over the years at Vinitaly. We tasted together, compared notes, exchanged information and argued about who makes the best Vermentino in Liguria. After 20 minutes of tannin talk, we were off in different directions. I went to taste the ’91 Brunello of Siro Pacenti--a remarkable success for a supposedly off vintage--and my buddy hit the stand of Fontodi to taste great Tuscan Syrah.

Although a large percentage of exhibitors are from Italy, there are other countries represented: Australia, Argentina, Spain, Hungary, Germany, South Africa. I even saw wine from Uruguay. There was a small contingent from the United States: Au Bon Climat, Laurel Glen and, of course, Mondavi, to name a few.

The Austrian contingent seems to grow every year in size and attention. The Austrian wines at the booth of the Chicago-based Importers Vin Divino, for instance, were a hit. And the world-class dessert wines of Alois Kracher were on the lips of every serious taster. Special treats this year were the excellent dry 1994s from Fred Loimer. Both the Riesling and Gruner Veltiner were absolutely delicious.

Often wholesalers take restaurateurs like me on “mini-tours” to three or four booths with their new or most renowned producers. On one of these tours, I tasted superb wines from an estate called Allegrini. Its 1990 Amarone was particularly terrific; it had none of the typically cooked prune and raisin flavors but instead was beautifully concentrated and elegant. “Elegance” is a descriptor that is not too often applied when talking about Amarone.

I also had terrific wines from an estate that was new to me called Feudi. Partially barrel-fermented wines, such as Fiano di Avellino and Greco di Tufo, were juicy, fresh and had terrific depth. Its Taurasi, the Red King of the Campania region south of Rome, was full-bodied but very silky and long. All the wines were reasonably priced.

*

At the end of each show day, seeing a bottle of wine makes you almost scream. There are only two things you want: a chair and some water.

Just about every night, someone extends an invitation to a group dinner at a good trattoria. Most often the food is hearty and delicious and the courses never end. One evening, at a terrific restaurant called Al Ponte, there were four pasta courses. Not to mention the fish dishes, polenta, salad, cheese and dessert--and of course more wine. Just what I needed.

At one point, I was so painfully stuffed that I seriously considered slipping the motherly waitress a couple hundred thousand to spare me. But her look, like my mom’s, told me that I’d better finish my plate.

A few measly hours later--back to tasting Sangiovese or perhaps a nice little Trockenbeerenauslese. Always a treat first thing in the morning.

Every day by noon, some 30 or 40 wines have been tasted. After a breakfast like this, you develop a distinct craving for a cold beer. So you end up at one of those horribly disorganized sandwich corners for a stale-bread-and-mortadella panino. While munching away, it is entertaining to watch the Italians do their espresso shooters and work down a cigarette in about three puffs. These people know how to smoke. After the 15-minute panini and beer stand-up lunch, it is back to business.

Every year a buzz develops around some new producer. Before long, you’re hearing this new winery’s name over and over again. Everyone wants to taste it. It’s hot. A star is born. This year it was a producer called Miani from the Colli Orientali in Friuli.

The ’94 Merlot was a particular hit and, indeed, a well-made wine. None of the weedy, grassy-green tartness of many Northern Italian reds, but all lushness from a concentration of ripe, smoky, plum fruit and a long, ripe, tannic finish. There was also a terrific Chardonnay, as well as very delicious red and white blends. These wines should arrive in the U.S. for the first time in about two months. They won’t be cheap, but they are worth it.

After I had tasted some 300-plus wines, gained about 10 pounds and slept a total of about 20 hours for the week, I was ready to have it end, even with all the fun. But I had a last tasting scheduled. Samples were shipped down from the winery of a terrific Alto-Adige producer called Franz Haas. He did not attend the fair, but his importers made arrangements to get barrel samples. It was a good final tasting because all his wines are superb and he definitely makes one of, if not the, best Pinot Noir in Northern Italy. I took my last sniff, my last sip and my last spit and another Vinitaly had come to an end for me. The fireworks and that darn blaring music faded by noon Tuesday.

Now I have a long flight home ahead of me on which all the business cards, tasting notes, scribbles and pieces of paper have to be sorted out. As I go through my mess, I realize that I was not able to taste a number of wines I was interested in. There just wasn’t enough time.

Well, as someone famous once said, “I’ll be back.”

* Krankl is managing partner and wine buyer at Campanile and La Brea Bakery.