Old school New England 92 - Scanorama

Fields of gold: Tasca
d’Almerita’s terraced
vineyard on Etna
being on the brink of extinction, something
the town last risked in 1947 when
Mungibeddu, the Sicilian name for Etna,
blew her top and laid waste to vines and
olive groves in the hills above. Good Catholics
that they were, villagers sought di -
vine intervention from the Virgin Mary,
who came to their aid to halt the oncoming
molten wave.
In front of the railway station, which
appears to have last been used in the
1950s when emigration took away a gen -
eration of farmers, we meet Giuseppe
Russo.
“Welcome to the new frontier of wine,”
Russo jokes. The bespectacled winemaker
invites us to his home next door
to the station’s empty waiting room and
platform. Upstairs in his kitchen visitors
from Switzerland are tasting his popular
Feudo vintage. Recently named the country’s
top vintner by Gambero Rosso, the
classically trained pianist turned winemaker
is still coming to terms with his
newfound fame. “I’m in a bit of shock to
be honest. My first vintage was only in
2005. But I was fortunate enough to have
inherited land that has great potential for
wine making.”
Russo cracks open a bottle of San Lo -
renzo, the growth of his tiny estate that
comes from 100-year-old vines, made
150 meters up the hill using the alberello
training system, which relies on low, free-
‘OVER 2,000 YEARS AGO THEY
WERE MAKING WINE ON
ETNA, AND I DON’T THINK THE
ROMANS WOULD HAVE PUT UP
WITH DRINKING VINEGAR ’
standing bushes. With nose to glass, the
wine’s bouquet releases a wealth of aromas:
cherries, violets, tobacco, a trace of
oak. On the palate it has nebbiolo-like
tannins but the nerello mascalese is less
austere.
From his balcony, Russo points to the
railway that was built in 1895 to go around
the mountain and connect Etna’s vineyards
to the seaside town of Riposto. The
port soon became an economic hub with a
weekly publication dedicated to the wine
trade and consulates from France to Sweden
setting up office there. Grapes were
Cantina:
San Giorgio
e il Drago in
Randazzo is a
must for Paola’s
meatballs and potato
croquettes, and a
glass of wine
dispatched from the docks to mainland
Italy and abroad. In the 1920s, there were
even rumors that nerello had found its
way into Bordeaux after a blight hit and
producers in Burgundy are said to have
relied on stocks during the 1960s. “Our
grapes were used to better other wines
that were able to make a name for themselves.
Now at least we can call the shots,”
Russo says.
Our next stop takes us to Frank Cornelissen,
a former wine trader from Ant werp
who as a teenager spent his allowance collecting
grand crus. Based in Solicchiata,
SCANORAMA DECEMBER 2011/JANUARY 2012 77
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