The wine:
Jorio by Umani Ronchi.
Preface:
Jorio hails from a delightfully literal family of wines known as Montepulciano d'Abruzzo which are made in Abruzzo, Italy and feature the Montepulciano grape. They are table wines, but remember that for wine the term table is not a compromise but a calling. We need these wines like the world needs garbage men: easy to take for granted but you'll miss them when they're gone. Everybody can't be Pomerol. Anyway, Abruzzo is in the back heal of the boot, approximately yonder:
If you happen to run across a Montepulciano with 'Riserva' slapped across the label, it means the wine was aged for a minimum of two years in oak, but don't get too excited. Older really isn't necessarily better, especially for high-yield, less sophisticated wines like Montepulciano. Many base-level Montepulcianos are quite nice younger, and may actually benefit from it because the fruit comes through more easily. Think fresh not young. Our friend Jorio, in fact, was aged only eleven months and is a very viable table wine and does his family proud.
Montepulciano d'Abruzzo is permitted to feature up to 10% Sangiovese, the work-horse of Italian wine. And a quick word on this. Italian wines are excruciatingly frustrating to keep track of in one's head, and the real culprit to my mind is Sangiovese. It creeps it's way (one feels) into every damn blend, and unless you're sensitive to the differences, makes many Italian wines taste suspiciously similar. This shouldn't be a problem with Jorio though, thank Dionysios, because its juice is honest-to-goodness 100% Montepulciano. Which to my mind could be described as a somewhat drier Sangiovese. Oh well.
Excursus:
A deep ruby color verging on purple, and largely opaque. A heavy wine, one sees, because the way it clings to the side of the glass. Nasal investigation will reveal dark, ripe fruit like plum maybe or even raisins. There's a bit of sugar there too, like molasses or caramel. Once inside your mouth the first thing you taste is the fruit again, but this time definitely plum, undercut by some good acidity and tannins to balance. The acid races backwards and is most of what I get on the back end. A tart wine, it needs food, Italian food really.
I haven't liked Montepulciano much in the past. One in particular comes to mind, although I don't remember the name. It tasted like cardboard and acid and put me off the whole grape for a while. But Jorio is pleasant and reasonably priced (by my own unrealistic standards), right around mid-to-low-20's. Don't ever pay too much more for Montepulcian d'Abruzzo than that, please, but Jorio, I feel, is worth what you'll pay.
Cheeses:
Podda Classico, (good) Piave, Pecorino Toscano (2+ years), Idiazabal, Taleggio, Ros, and my favorite for this wine: Ossau-Iraty.
Otherwise have it at your table with some extra tangy Marinara or Bolognese sauces, and my gut tells my a rustique pate. Lots of bread and olive oil.
Bibliography:
Here's what the maker's web site has to say.
Deep ruby red, recalls plums and red cherries on the nose, followed by balsamic and salty notes on a background of ripe liquorice. With eloquent and clean tannins in the mouth, it comes across as full and vigorous, with a long and intense finish.
Most of that I can see, although liquorice is going a little far. Here's a random internet blurb I pulled up on the wine:
It was a delicious wine from start to finish. I must say I was totally impressed by this wine from the moment I smelled the bouquet it to the last drop. Looking at the wine, it was bright cherry red with vibrant pink edges. On the nose it displayed lovely vanilla, cherries and blueberry pie. Hints of loam and rich truffles
Apparently everyone agrees that it's cherries not plum I was tasting, but blueberry pie is absurd, and truffles just absolutely bonkers.
Conclusion:
Caring matters.
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