Discovering the Enchantment of Castello di Brolio: A Journey Through Time and Taste

A Brief History of Castello di Brolio

It was in the twelfth century that the Ricasoli family took over the castle in Gaiole in Chianti. This castle has weathered centuries of attacks—from the Spanish to the internal battles between the Sienese and the Florentines. Brolio, being geographically closer to the former but politically allied to the latter, has seen it all. The current structure, a rather massive pinkish stone castle adorned with crenelated battlements and various towers, stands proudly in lovely gardens surrounded by vines and olive groves.

This impressive edifice was (re)built in the 1800s by the Iron Baron, Bettino Ricasoli. He was not just the mayor of Florence; he also served as the prime minister of the newly unified Italy after Cavour. Above all, he is celebrated as the inventor of the varietal ‘recipe’ for Chianti.

The Allure of the Castle

Visiting the castle is a wonderful experience. It immerses you in the beauty of Italy and Tuscany, with its stunning surroundings and endless layers of history, political intrigue, and art. And, of course, you can indulge in a tasting at the end of your visit.

Now, I must say, the GS (Gran Selezione) does remove the temptation to throw cabernet and merlot into the baron’s sacred mix. Imagine ending up with a supercharged version of Bordeaux a la Italy! Why would anyone want that? But, alas, we were not impressed by the new GS. As is often the case, we found that the supposedly humbler wines tasted far more of place, tradition, and history than the more monolithic monuments created in the winery for US wine critics, high scores, and good sales figures.

In the spirit of not judging an adult by a baby, we picked up a bottle of the 2006 Castello di Brolio (which is now the GS wine). We thought we’d give it a proper chance to mature and show its adult beauty at a later date. Perhaps with age, it would acquire its nobility and balance?

The Critics' Take

The US wine magazines certainly had high hopes. Tasting the wine in 2009, AG from the Wine Advocate scored it a solid 93, while JS from the Wine Spectator gave it a stellar 96 and crowned it among the top 100 wines of the year. Now, you might have guessed my opinion on wine scores of super young babies, but prove me wrong…

Fifteen years should be a decent amount of time for a grand wine to show itself at its best. We opened the wine with some expectation, given the laudatory plaudits from across the Atlantic. But the color was oddly dark for a Chianti. Bettino’s eyebrows would have raised. Almost black-red? Hmm.

The nose, usually my favorite part of a glass of Sangiovese, was very strong and reminiscent of meat stock. It felt like I had stuck my head in a pot of simmering consommé. I enjoy a touch of that to add complexity, but here it was full frontal and dominant.

On the palate, the texture was, again, rather oddly thick. There was a residue of acidity and tannin left, but the fruit was definitely fading. Where were those heights of a positive hedgerow of mixed berries promised by the critics? Just a parting memory.

A Disappointing Experience

Perhaps this was an unfair bottle. It came from the winery, was stored in the cellar, and had a perfect cork with no obvious defects. To us, the wine was just another example of over-extraction—Chianti made for lovers of powerful wines. But we are in Tuscany, not Napa, or at least we should be.

I admit to having a definite bias. After half the bottle, my wife and I gave up and decided to use it as inspiration to make some pepo, a Tuscan beef stew. The overt meatiness of the wine might just meld nicely with the beef.

Somewhat frustrated and thirsty, I thought back to my last blog post from Tuscany. I pulled out a half bottle of Felsina’s Vin Santo. The color was a beautiful amber gold, and the taste was like liquefied caramel—gently raisiny and confit, rich but with enough bite. Delicious! After its seven years of slumber in little barrels in the attics of Felsina’s medieval granary, it was true Italian wine.

Postscript - ‘The Wine in My Glass’

After some encouragement and a fair few blog posts, I have published a book about my travels in the wine world, people, places, and, of course, wines. I am not a professional, so everything I say is objective and unbiased. This allows me to criticize when other journalists do not dare to do so. Any profits will go to the Vendanges Solidaires association, established in 2016 to help winemakers who are struggling after suffering extreme weather conditions (frost, hail, fire, flood, etc.), which sadly are becoming ever more frequent: www.vendangessolidaires.com.

The book ranges from California to Sicily, via Salta, Jujuy, and Patagonia in Argentina, Valtellina, Piemonte, and Tuscany in Italy, Madeira, and, of course, all over France (Burgundy, Chablis, Sancerre, Beaujolais, Bordeaux, the Rhône).

If you have found any pleasure or interest in this blog, I think you might enjoy it. It has been brilliantly illustrated by Arabella Langlands-Perry, who managed to juggle bringing up two young kids, helping run Maceo/Willi’s Wine Bar in Paris, and producing artwork with an abundance of both talent and wit. Brava!

‘The Wine in My Glass – Tales of Wines, Winemakers, and Places’

Published by The Medlar Press Limited, Fishguard, Pembrokeshire, autumn 2025. www.medlarpress.com

https://medlarpress.com/bookstore/?store-page=The-Wine-in-My-Glass-p768838784

Available from Medlar in the UK, and/or from me in France & Willis Wine Bar in Paris.

Price: UK Pounds 26 or 30 Euros. All profits go to charity.