A remarkably lucid description of the word "Riserva".

In the past, I've praised Sergio Esposito and his commercial weekly newsletter devoted to Italian wines. This week's edition has a useful explanation of the reasons for using the "Riserva" legend.

Reading the archives of newsletters is a very educational journey through Italian wine (and food). It epitomizes the knowledge one hope's to find in a wine retailer.

Regards, Bob

Technically, "riserva," written across a label, means that a wine has been aged an extra year. The word, combined with a hefty price tag, also welcomes its reader to assume that the drink is far superior to the producer's regular bottling—that it's exclusive, hard-to- find, remarkable. Exclusive? Yes. Hard to find? Could be. Remarkable? Not necessarily.

As with most things in the increasingly complicated world of wine, a riserva is not always what it seems. Indeed, making a riserva presents a financial problem for many producers because its presence takes up valuable cellar space. Most prefer to place their bets on special bottlings, cellar selections, or single- vineyard bottlings, all of which sell for more than a normale but go on the market at the same time. Those who do choose to conquer the riserva-in Montalcino, only a few producers out of a total 230- are then faced with additional conundrums. How, for example, do you make sure that your customer keeps coming back? How can you garner a high score for your wine, something that will send people straight to the store? How do you lessen the risks that come along with this already risky endeavor?

Producers take two approaches to their riservas. The majority ferment all the juice from one harvest and put it in barrels. A few months later, they taste from their barrels. Then they locate the best batches and set them aside as the riserva. Of course, this presents the vintner with a new issue: A riserva is expected to be very unlike the normale, but how do you make that happen when the two are, essentially, the exact same stuff, treated the exact same way? An extra year in barrel isn't necessarily going to do the trick. So Italian producers follow the lead of popular producers all over the world and start dumping additives into the wine. By doing so, they can create a drink that's definitely different. If you're not looking too hard, you'll see viscosity, color, concentration, extract. You'll see a nearly flawless product. You'll see that the wine, so well-constructed, hooked itself a "Wine of The Year" from your leading industry publication. If you dig a little deeper, though, a couple of facts become clear: The wine, perfect as it may be, doesn't have a smidgen of complexity. Worse, having been blanketed by chemicals, it lacks identity.

Good stuff Bob R. This thread should be worth 3 pages, lotsa fun.

I hope he has some facts to back up this speculation.

I suspect not though, and unless he's prepared to name and shame (yeah, like he'd actually do that ), I'm afraid I'll have to treat his comments with contempt. Just another instance of lazy headline seeking journalism.

regards

Ian

"Just another instance of lazy headline seeking journalism."

Sergio's not a journalist but wine flogger, Ian.

In person, Sergio certainly names names. No partner of Batali could exist as a shrinking violet.

"Just another instance of lazy headline seeking journalism."

Sergio's not a journalist but wine flogger, Ian.

In person, Sergio certainly names names. No partner of Batali could exist as a shrinking violet.

Bob
I don't know the guy, but get very fed up with such comments, unsubstantiated by facts. If he has names and misdemeanours, then I'd love him to share these. I have great respect for whistleblowers that place themselves at risk to reveal an abuse.

That he might say something verbally 'in person' might be considered rumour or gossip. To come out in print and back up his claims would be considered honourable.

I believe the correct term (and this is aimed at him, certainly not you) is "Put up, or shut up"

regards

Ian

""Put up, or shut up"

I've been on a roll recently asking folks to do that, Ian. I'll drop Sergio an email and post his reply, if any.

Regards, Bob

Ian, I've sent this off tonight -- let's see if he "puts up".

Hi Sergio,

I've been enjoying several of the wines you have written about, and especially enjoyed the weekly and monthly newsletters. I've learned a great deal.

Your comments in the current newsletter seem particularly harsh. Are you willing to identify any of the Italian producers who follow these practices?

Regards, Bob

So Italian producers follow the lead of popular producers all over the world and start dumping additives into the wine. By doing so, they can create a drink that's definitely different. If you're not looking too hard, you'll see viscosity, color, concentration, extract. You'll see a nearly flawless product. You'll see that the wine, so well-constructed, hooked itself a "Wine of The Year" from your leading industry publication. If you dig a little deeper, though, a couple of facts become clear: The wine, perfect as it may be, doesn't have a smidgen of complexity. Worse, having been blanketed by chemicals, it lacks identity.

Bob
Good man!
regards
Ian

Ian, in view of the dustup on eBob over quoting emails to customers, I'm a little nervous -- but just a little nervous about quoting Sergio. Perhaps I shouldn't have done so.

I believe my quote is "fair use", but perhaps Robin would like to consider WLDG policy on the point.

Regards, Bob

[Robin Garr]

Ian, in view of the dustup on eBob over quoting emails to customers, I'm a little nervous -- but just a little nervous about quoting Sergio. Perhaps I shouldn't have done so.

I believe my quote is "fair use", but perhaps Robin would like to consider WLDG policy on the point.

Regards, Bob

It's fine, Bob. Bear in mind that this is not a quote from a private communication but a widely distributed newsletter, AND it's only a snippet from a larger work. I am absolutely not concerned about this, and to be quite frank, the source you mentioned would probably be one of the last places I would look for legal advice. I appreciate the post. Let it stand.

Legally, I'm sure it's ok, Robin. I only worried a bit from a policy point of view. Thanks.

Bob
I think we're a little different over here (and much the better for it).

If Sergio (or Robin) wishes this thread to be dropped, then I'm sure we'd all accept it with good grace.

regards

Ian

At least riserva means something. I'd like to see reserve mean somehting here in the US. Anything.

At least riserva means something. I'd like to see reserve mean somehting here in the US. Anything.

We all know that "Reserve" is not regulated in the U.S.A. so it means what the gal or guy who puts the wine in the bottle wants it to mean. Alas, we must ask that guy or gal. I've discussed this word here and there with winemakers I know. The family I know the best calls their lowest quality wine "Private Stock." I've asked whether that means one should drink it when one is by one's self so as not to offend a guest. Their next level is their "Reserve Selections." Their best stuff has no moniker.

I'm all for coming to an agreement about what a particular term means and codifying it, but I think, as soon as a term is codified or regulated, someone is going to come up with an unregulated or uncodified term so that his or her product will stand out from the crowd. It's a big language. Caveat emptor!

Here's Sergio's response, Ian:

sure but depends what you're referring to. Dumping additives: take every wine you know of in the world and figure that less than 1% does not. The question is to what degree and how much does that degree alter the wine and at which point does it loose it's identity.

But look closely. There's a specific wine identified below.

My best,
Sergio Esposito

He's referring to the language from his newsletter that I quoted:


So Italian producers follow the lead of popular producers all over the world and start dumping additives into the wine. By doing so, they can create a drink that's definitely different. If you're not looking too hard, you'll see viscosity, color, concentration, extract. You'll see a nearly flawless product. You'll see that the wine, so well-constructed, hooked itself a "Wine of The Year" from your leading industry publication. If you dig a little deeper, though, a couple of facts become clear: The wine, perfect as it may be, doesn't have a smidgen of complexity. Worse, having been blanketed by chemicals, it lacks identity.

I suppose, and am too lazy to check this morning, that "Wine Spectator" must have made an Italian wine "Wine of the Year" recently.

You might not consider this an adequate response, Ian, but knowing Sergio superficially at least, I know for sure he would give a much more expansive answer in person. His list of offerings in this same newsletter are clearly wines that he considers are NOT manipulated.

And, I think that's a fine position for a retailer to take -- he needs to keep good relations with folks who make wine so that he can stock what customers want and you certainly get straight answers when you deal with him directly.

Regards, Bob

Bob
Thanks for this (and indeed to Sergio).
This seems to read as if he's taking a wider view of additives (e.g. things like pre-bottling Sulphur and perhaps other widely accepted additions, plus a few more dubious additions, e.g. oak powder, powdered tannins etc.).

The implication I'd read before was that some chemicals were being added to enhance the taste of the wine (more in line with say the South African Sauvignon Blanc affair a couple of years ago).

Whilst there is still that suggestion, I can see that his quibble appears to be a wider one of at what point does an additive stop becoming a facilitator and then become a major influence in it's own right. Personally I'd add winemaking techniques to this including roto-fermenters, microx, cone spinning and all the other weird and wonderful stuff being used.

Unless of course he is indeed suggesting something more sinister than this

regards

Ian

Hi Ian,

I've been thinking about both Sergio's comments, and your critique, and am much less sure his newsletter was as "lucid" as I originally thought.

Certainly his statement of the Italian rules on the use of "Riserva" is correct. What I hadn't focussed on in the past was the economic cost involved in holding the wine for a period of time, rather than releasing it sooner; Sergio made me understand that the winemaker had to recover those costs if he or she released both an IGT, say, and a Riserva, from the same vintage. That's an economic tension that I hadn't really understood before.

In any event, thanks for pointing out the vagueness in his comments -- it will give me something to chat him up about next time I stop by the shop -- they are running some exceptional wine tastings on Saturdays these days.

But not too much gratitude to you this end ... every time I stop by, or is it "buy" ... well, you get the idea.

Regards, Bob

Lucid, yes*, but also quite mistaken, at least as a general statement. Yes, there are bad producers who treat their Riserva as a marketing tool, but the better producers use the word in the way it was originally intended, to denote the best wine/s they make.

I think it is quite wrong to tar all Italian producers with the same brush to create a controversy. Using the worst, most cynical producers as an example for all Italian wine producers is fallacious and ignorant.

* in the sense of 'clear and easily understood'

It's worth mentioning that additives are something of a hobby horse with Sergio. Here's a typical extract from his newsletter on one of his heroes:

Last spring I joined Friulian vintner Damijan Podversic at La Subida restaurant in Cormons, a tiny town on the border of Slovenia and Friuli. As we began to eat our braised veal shank (a dish so famously perfect that people from around the world flock to La Subida just to taste it), Podversic spotted Josko Gravner sitting across the dining room with his family. His eyes lit up.

“Josko’s here, my teacher,” he said. “We must pay our respects.” I agreed—we were in the presence of a genius.

Josko Gravner is Friuli’s greatest and most influential winemaker. Since 1975, he has produced the finest whites in all of Italy. His early protégés—students of what is now known as the School of Gravner—include Edi Kante, brothers Giorgio and Nicolò Bensa of La Castellada, Stanko Radikon, and Podversic. Gravner is known for his wisdom and foresight, and for his fearlessly innovative approach to his craft. In the 1970s, he perfected stainless steel technology of fermentation and temperature control. Soon after, just as others began to catch onto his techniques, he abandoned them and went on to master barrique fermentation and aging. The wine industry and enthusiasts around the world (French and American included) applauded, crowning him the "King of Italian Whites." But as his students attempted to copy him, he had a new idea.

In the 1990s, Gravner’s friend Udo Fiersch visited Caucasia (in the former USSR) and tried wines fermented in clay amphorae in the ancient style that is still alive in Georgian winemaking. Fiersch shipped an amphora back to an intrigued Gravner. Gravner, who had long studied the effects of slow maceration periods, filled it with wine and buried it underground for fermentation.

At a wine dinner in 1998, Gravner revealed the discovery that the amphora had helped him make. He announced to a room full of students, clients, and journalists that all the newest technology, chemicals, and techniques, it turned out, did many things for wine, but they didn’t make it any better.

“Wine and food have to be natural products,” he said. “In flying a plane, one needs technology but it’s absurd to think that man can ever improve what is natural.”

Then, with a tinge of remorse in his voice he added, “Wine and food we put in our stomachs. How could I continue doing my work if I have knowledge that what I make was slowly poisoning my daughters?”

The poisons of which Gravner spoke are acids, sugars, yeasts, tannins, wood flavoring, wood chips, glycerin, Arabic gum, polyphenols, extracts, and color stabilizers—the laboratory-made products that routinely show up in almost all wines made today, both in and outside of Italy (the only additive Gravner deems acceptable is a small quantity of sulfur because it is a natural product). [Emphasis supplied.]

Immediately after his radical announcement, most of his followers—with the exception of Podversic—dropped away, convinced that he had gone too far. Lawmakers tried to keep his wines from the market, stating that the 1999 wasn’t an acceptable wine for its appellation. Suppliers stopped buying from him. And the press, scared of losing their authority, skewered him.

Still today, despite the controversy, Gravner remains convinced that his ancient methods result in the best wines. He admits that his wines, which are made in amphorae with a seven-month maceration, are not for everyone.

“The amphora amplifies everything,” he says. “The color, which is very dark, is the most obvious, but there’s much more which cannot be explained.” Though much of the greatness and weirdness may be inexplicable, it’s clear that Gravner’s wines are now unmasked, untainted, and beautiful. When asked to describe the difference between his Anfora 2001 (anfora is Italian for amphora and is now in the name of the wines for which it is used) and the wines he made previously, he says, “I don’t have the words to describe it. It’s like being asked to describe someone’s soul. The amphora wines have much more spirit.”

February 2006 newsletter.

Bob,

In my opinion he's committed the same fallacy here.

'he poisons of which Gravner spoke are acids, sugars, yeasts, tannins, wood flavoring, wood chips, glycerin, Arabic gum, polyphenols, extracts, and color stabilizers—the laboratory-made products that routinely show up in almost all wines made today, both in and outside of Italy (the only additive Gravner deems acceptable is a small quantity of sulfur because it is a natural product).

To suggest that almost all wines contain almost all of these additives is a gross overstatement, and again he's tarring all (or almost all) producers with the same brush, which is dishonest.