The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
A case study in wine terroir
The environment has as much to do with the flavor as the varietal.
What a difference a place makes. A single type of grape, planted in one region, may yield insipid, uninteresting wines. Grown somewhere else, however, the grapes can become wines that astonish and inspire.
Could this be that thing called terroir?
It is fashionable in some quarters to assail the notion of terroir as a myth, promoted by the wine industry as a handy and attractive marketing tool. Yet, to anybody who drinks a lot of different wines, as writer Matt Kramer has pointed out, the existence and influence of terroir on wine is absolutely clear.
What is terroir? It’s the notion that the place where grapes are grown and wine is made imposes a character on that wine. The idea starts with the soil in which the vines are grown, but also encompasses the influence of the environment (that is, the microclimate), the elevation, the angle of the sun and, yes, the people who tend the vines and make the wine.
Wine lovers can cite many classic examples of the influence of terroir. First and foremost is Chablis, a white Burgundy that is made entirely of chardonnay, yet tastes completely different from other chardonnays. Despite the best efforts of winemakers, no chardonnays made elsewhere in the world can capture the character of Chablis, even though some wines are described as “Chablislike.” (Now that’s marketing.)
As another prime example, consider the red wines of Corsica, particularly those made in the south of the island, where the leading grape is sciaccarellu.
Never heard of it? Not surprising. In Tuscany, the grape is known as mammolo, which has a similar lack of renown. Histor-
ically, mammolo played a supporting role in Chianti and other red wines, where it was generally blended with sangiovese. But plantings of mammolo have dwindled over the years. As a varietal wine, mammolo is floral, high in alcohol and not particularly interesting.
But grown in the dry granite soils of southern Corsica, sciaccarellu becomes another thing entirely, with bright, vivid flavors of flowers, red fruit and stony earth that transcend Tuscan mediocrity.
Does this grape make better wines in Corsica because the terroir is simply more suitable for it? Or is it perhaps because, given its starring role in Corsica, the grape receives more tender, solicitous care than it does as a Tuscan fourth banana?
The wine panel had much to think about at a tasting of Corsican reds from recent vintages. For the tasting, Florence Fabricant and I were joined by two guests, Michelle Biscieglia, wine director at Blue Hill New York in Greenwich Village, and Marie Vayron, a sommelier at Le Bernardin in Midtown Manhattan.
We were all impressed by the variety of styles and flavors, not unusual given the variety of Corsican terroirs and grapes.
Sciaccarellu is one of two leading red grapes on Corsica, along with niellucciu, which is identical genetically to sangiovese. Niellucciu is the main red grape in the north of Corsica, where the soils have more limestone than granite.
Geographically, this Mediterranean island is quite close to Italy, which may explain the presence of these two grapes. In fact, Italy, or rather, the Republic of Genoa, ruled Corsica from the 13th century to the middle of the 18th. In 1769, Corsica was conquered by France, and today it is a region of France. Yet while the influence of both countries is felt, Corsica is very much its own place.
The singular nature of the island comes through in the people and their culture, the wines and cuisine, and the collection of grapes you find there. Among reds, along with sciaccarellu and niellucciu, you will also find southern French grapes like grenache, cinsault, syrah and carignan, mostly planted in the 1950s and ‘60s, often by French exiles from northern Africa who came to Corsica after colonial rule ended.
These can make decent wines — Corsican terroir works its magic even on ubiquitous international grapes. Our No. 8 wine, the 2014 Île de Beauté Rouge from Yves Leccia, is 80 percent grenache and 20 percent niellucciu. It was rich, exuberant and delicious, much different from a grenache that might have come from the south of the French mainland.
Far more exciting, though, are the wines that come from Corsica’s indigenous grapes. This is apparent in not just the Italian grapes that Corsica has made its own, like niellucciu and sciaccarellu, but in a handful of others that show up here and there, like carcajolu neru, genovese, morescola, montaneccia, riminese and biancu gentile.
A handful of these grapes along with sciaccarellu and niellucciu were in our No. 1 bottle, the 2012 Ministre Impérial from Comte Abbatucci’s Cuvée Collection, a complex, brilliantly perfumed wine made from a collection of cuttings of indigenous grapes carefully preserved by the father of the current proprietor, JeanCharles Abbatucci.
This is a rare wine, and an expensive one at $100, by far the most expensive bottle in our tasting. I’m not expecting anybody to run out to pick up a few bottles. But it did offer an idea of what can be achieved through meticulous farming, winemaking and guardianship of culture.
Our No. 2 bottle offered a more typical Corsican expression of a southern red. The 2013 Ajaccio Antica from U Stiliccionu, Sébastien Poly’s estate outside the city of Ajaccio, was pure, alive and complex, and 100 percent sciaccarellu. So did our No. 3, a more accessible $37 bottle from Abbatucci, the 2013 Rouge Cuvée Faustine, 70 percent sciaccarellu and 30 percent niellucciu.
At most wine panel tastings, we have 20 bottles. This time we had only 18, and they came from 13 producers, which meant we had several cuvées from a few producers. You may also keep an eye out for producers that we didn’t find, like Domaine de Vaccelli, Clos Canarelli, Domaine de Torraccia and, most definitely, Antoine Arena.
We actually had a bottle of Arena’s red for the tasting, from the northern region of Patrimonio and made entirely of niellucciu, but sadly it was corked. I’ve loved that wine in the past.
Other top wines in our tasting included our No. 4, the 2013 Pumonte from Domaine d’Alzipratu from Calvi in the northwest, a producer I had not tried before. It was floral, tense and juicy, with intriguing notes of iron. The No. 5 was the Clos Reginu from Domaine Maestracci, also in Calvi, a juicy, exuberant wine made of an assortment of Corsican and southern French grapes.
Our No. 6 was the 2013 Sottu Scala from U Stiliccionu, made, like the Antica, from 100 percent sciaccarellu, but more structured. We liked the Antica more at the tasting, but the Sottu Scala will prove to be better in the long term. One more bottle worth mentioning was the 2015 1769 Clos Venturi, No. 7, made from the indigenous carcajolu neru, an exotically floral wine.