The Best of Nebbiolo in all its Forms

When an Italian wine-loving friend calls you to say that they are in the French Alps and asks if would we like to meet just across in Italy as they have heard so much about the region from us, well, what do you say?  It’s only 8 hours away (plus a 2-hour delay at the Mont Blanc tunnel and then a car broken down inside it so that it had to be temporarily closed…).

But once you have eventually managed to get through the tunnel, you have a magnificent choice of Nebbiolo in all its forms within a couple of hours drive: Picotener in the Valle d’Aosta and neighbouring Carema (Alto Piemonte), Nebbiolo in its pure parental form in the Langhe (Barolo/Barbaresco) and Chiavennasca in Valtellina. No, Nebbiolo is not just Langhe Nebbiolo. And not only can you enjoy the plethora of biotypes, you can also walk through a multitude of beautiful, sometimes crazy vineyards.

The scenery is spectacular. From the scarily imposing Fortress of Bard that so frustrated Napoleon, you can trek under the vertiginous terraces above Donnas and Pont St Martin in Aosta and then cross the two-thousand-year-old Roman bridge into Carema and Piemonte where ancient conical stone arches support wooden pergolas, again on steep inclines; you can actually walk underneath the grapes. Plus, throw in a few medieval churches, frescoes and a chapel built in the late 1600s by the villagers of Carema to thank Saint Rocco for protecting them from the plague.

Or climb up and down the multi-oriented slopes of Barolo, with the perfect triangular peak of MonViso towering above La Morra to the west, a castle atop every hill (and in autumn a Fauvist quilt of scarlet and gold as the Dolcetto, Barbera and Nebbiolo vines mature, the valleys full of hazel nut trees and truffles).

Or, if you prefer lakes, what better than the Valtellina valley flowing into the north of Lake Como, nestled under the Swiss Alps, with yet more vertical vineyards and miles of hand built stone walls?

Aosta’s wines come in many forms including a bewildering array of whites, but a little Pinot apart, the reds are mainly Nebbiolo-Picotoner, which takes over 100% in Carema. Oddly, in Aosta I found two enotecas selling a lot of local wine but not a drop of the enemy next door, whereas in Carema we could not find a single bottle other than the Cantina di Carema co-operative, though I know there are some serious single vineyard examples out there somewhere. They offered a 2021 riserva aged in large old botti and a slightly more expensive standard bottling which had spent some time in barrique. The later was markedly toasty, nice enough but oaky and more ‘modern’ whereas the old school riserva was more about unadorned fruit.

These are vini de piacere, wines of pleasure, not really wines that demand or repay serious contemplation or wine snobbish examination. I am sure there are finer examples, (like Ferrando Carema), but all that we managed to taste were in the 20s of euros, fresh, lighter than the Langhe, and pleasant. You really don’t have to overthink it. I suspect that Carema offers a notch above, but as said, they were elusive, so I’ll just have to get on the internet and search. Funnily enough when I did ask for a bottle of Carema in an Aosta enoteca, once they had got over the Bateman-like expression of horror at such an inappropriate question, they actually gave me a bottle of Sumie from Muraje, a boutique Carema producer in a different quality and price league. Further research required.

But they did sell wines from Ar.Pe.Pe, the flagship producer of Valtellina, again in a different bracket on all fronts. These are also lighter than the Langhe but have more fruit and lifted aromatics than what we found in Aosta and are quite simply lovely. You might say they hint at an imaginary meeting of Barolo and Burgundy. Chiavennasca at its best, floral, red fruited and elegant. If the finish on the Grumello was a bit more rustic, the Sassella had a little more fruit and rounded balance. Nice! (and if you want something original, the valley also makes their version of Amarone – Sforzato, grapes air-dried in special huts up in the hills, wines of alcoholic power and immense aromatics).

But all of this was what you might call a prelude to the main event. I had promised to deliver some books to Trediberri which Nick and Stefania had very kindly asked for, and I was delighted to see one displayed in their very classily designed new tasting room. Though I know they debated how much Berri and how much Roche d’Annunziata to mix into their final blended 2022 (there being no single vineyards as the vintage was just too hot and dry and the single vineyard identity a bit smothered by the dry heat), I am keen to drink their combined Barolo La Morra, the other advantage being that I won’t need to wait until I’m senile to do so.

Whilst chatting, we commented on the colourful and fun etchings on the wall (and wine labels) all done by a local artist, Pierflavio Gallina, the Picasso of the Langhe. By pure chance we had driven past his atelier. Should we pop in to visit?

As we already have 5 of his works, and no more wall space, I firmly left my wallet in the car, knowing that our friends were keen to buy. Of course this was a naïve move, and my wife Kathy soon reminded me that we had a large kitchen cupboard being removed this week that would, guess what, free up the perfect amount of wall space.

It was a great idea. Pierflavio was ferociously good looking as a young man and still sports a magnificent leonine mane of white hair. He showed us around his atelier, how he created his etchings, the watercolours, paintings on stone, oil on glass, several decades of experimentation and artistic talent. In another corner stood his collection of bottle labels (Trediberri, Vietti…). Outside, if the heat haze had not been so thick, we’d have seen his favourite mountain, the Fuji of the Alps, MonViso in all its jagged glory. Wonderful.

And, yes, that wall space is now taken.

We popped in to see Alan Manley at Margherita Otto and tasted his 2020, 2021 and 2022. He did not declassify the 22 as he refused to pick early even though the vines were self-cannibalising, sucking water out of their own grapes to survive the endless drought (2020/21/22). The pips were still green inside and unripe, so he hung on and waited whilst others saw the shrivelling grapes and escalating alcohols and picked, cried and declassified. In the end, late September finally saw some rain, the alcohols dropped, the grapes swelled and the wine is good, even if the tannins are a little rougher than normal. Interestingly his 2024 Langhe Nebbiolo, another troubled vintage but this time of rain and rot, is pale, light and lovely. It looks almost like rose but there is no mistaking its Nebbiolo fatherhood. Too easy to drink (we begged him for another box if it). And to remind us of just how dry the earth was, when the continual rains did come in the winter/spring it took several weeks before there was a single puddle. The earth just soaked it up like a starved sponge.

But the main event was dinner, well two to be precise. And a chance to enjoy Nebbiolo at its very best at prices somehow way below retail. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

The first night saw a duet of brilliance. One of Barolo’s greatest MGA’s (wine areas) made by one of its greatest winemakers: Monvigliero by Fabio Alessandria of GB Burlotto. 2021 and 2020. From the top northeast corner of Verduno just above the Tanaro River before it winds its way off to Barbaresco.

Verduno is not well known, being much smaller than La Morra, but surely produces the most elegant of Langhe’s Nebbiolos. And Monvigliero is on everyone’s top ten list of sites. It’s also foot trodden and whole cluster fermented. Unique.

The colour is a pale almost pinky red. The nose is perfumed, red fruited and floral, an ode to strawberries and roses. The palate is delicate, the fruit ripe, mixed in with herbs and on the finish of course some tannins – these are very young wines, though I think Burlotto’s wines are so elegant and the tannins so fine that you can approach them way earlier than most top class Barolo. They have the weight, elegance and as the French would say ‘aerienne’ perfume of the finest Burgundy but with the fruit and some of the grip of Barolo. Simply wonderful. Of the vintages, 19,20 and 21 are all much heralded and the press does rave about 21, though Alan prefers 19 and 20 and, in this case, so did we, just a little more fruit on the mid palate and a little more rounded tannin. But what wines, and so distinct from most Barolo which demands at least a decade (or two) for the forbidding tannins to soften.

On the second night I thought it would be fun to try opposites. A young wine, again from Burlotto, but this time the 2019 Acclivi, their blended Verduno (including some younger vine Monvigliero) and then something mature and from the opposite of Verduno, the most powerful, long lived and famed village of the region – Serralunga. And another top ten superstar MGA – Vigna Rionda. At home we had just enjoyed Massolino’s 2011 Parafada from the northern end of the Serralunga amphitheatre, so when I saw their 2011 Vigna Rionda it was an obvious choice.

The Acclivi is, I suspect, the more unheralded star in the Burlotto range as it’s a blend from various Verduno vineyards (Neirane, Rocche dell’Olmo and Boscatto, together with grapes from Monvigliero) rather than a single vineyard from the mega famous Monvigliero or Cannubi (in Barolo). As Anotnio Galloni wrote in Vinous ‘Although the Acclivi is not as coveted as the Cannubi or Monvigliero, it is an important wine in its own right, as several recent bottles of the 2006 showed. Think of it like Rousseau's Clos Saint-Jacques relative to the Chambertin and Beze’. Nicely put (and a fraction of the price, all be it costly).

Two great locations, two delicious wines. What a fun tasting, and how fascinating. You could not get two more different examples of the same grape and region. The Acclivi was a shade darker than the two Monvigliero’s but still a light, bright, translucent red. The Vigna Rionda was dense and dark. The Acclivi nose was all red fruited perfume, though more cherry than the Monvigliero. The VR was tarry, dark fruited and meaty in its maturity. The Acclivi was light and floating, the VR powerful and brooding.

Both wines are super and I’d say of similar quality, but their taste and styles are totally different. You take your pick – two fabulous examples of Nebbiolo.

Definitely worth a long, boring transit through the Monte Bianco tunnel. Nebbiolo at its best in its various forms.

Postscript - ‘The Wine in My Glass’

‘Loving this wine memoir from Adrian Latimer. A must for those who love great stories and writing, albeit primarily about wine. And it’s all in a good cause. All profits go to the Vendanges Solidaires association which helps winemakers who are suffering due to extreme weather conditions…’

Hermione Ireland, Managing Director Academie du Vin Library

‘Refreshing candor bereft of rancor is the hallmark of The Wine in My Glass, written by an enthusiast with no connection to the wine trade other than as a committed customer over many decades…. Hardly a page passes without a crisp insight that reveals the sort of deep understanding that is only achieved after years of alert engagement… Burgundy warrants several chapters, but the one that should be compulsory reading—“A Pox Upon You”—tells an unflattering tale about the blight of premature oxidation and its baleful and ongoing consequences… Keen observations such as this leaven every chapter of The Wine in My Glass. We need more wine writing of this ilk: engaging and enthusiastic first, informed and knowledgeable second—the sort of book that should be read with a glass of wine to hand rather than a highlighter pen.’

Raymond Blake ‘The World of Fine Wine’

After some encouragement and a fair few blog posts, I published (Sept 2025) a book about my travels in the wine world - the people, places and, of course, wines.  I am not a professional, so everything I say is objective and unbiased (so I can criticise when other journalists do not dare to do so for instance) and any profits will go to the Vendanges Solidaires association which was set up in 2016 to help winemakers who are in trouble after suffering the 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 Rhone).

If you have found any pleasure and/or interest in this blog, I think you might enjoy it, especially as 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 UK, and/or from me in France or Willis Wine Bar in Paris.

Price UK Pounds 26 from Medlar or 35 Euros. All profits to charity.

Arabella’s artwork is available from Restaurant Maceo/Willis Wine Bar in Paris.