Like a true aficionado, Costantino Charrère chose his favorite mountain in the Valle d’Aosta based on quality, not quantity. From his hometown in Aymavilles, a few miles west of Aosta, he can see the most famous peaks of the Alps just by turning in place: the massive Monte Bianco (Mont Blanc) to the west; Gran Paradiso, the highest peak within Italy’s borders, to the south; and Cervino (the Matterhorn) to the northeast. But none of them compares—in Charrère’s mind, anyway—to the softly contoured Monte Grívola, a twelve-thousand-foot crest dividing the villages of Cogne and Valsavarenche. Standing shin-deep in wildflowers on a hiking trail in the Parco Nazionale del Gran Paradiso, he stops and frames Grívola like a film director blocking a scene.
“It’s got perfect proportions,” he says, although it’s difficult to see those proportions through the comet’s tail of snow shrouding the summit. “When the afternoon sun hits it, there is nothing like it in the world.”
Even in mid-August, the snow in the Alps makes the Valle d’Aosta look like a giant meringue pie, sliced to reveal its lush, green filling: Looking down from the heights of the Parco, the banks of the Dora Baltea river swell with wine grapes, rennet apples and Martin Sec pears, all of them fed by ancient Roman irrigation canals that crisscross the valley floor. As Charrère charges ahead, we pass cows grazing in a meadow and imagine the creamy, piquant cheese that will be made from their milk. The woods below are filled with chestnuts and wild mushrooms. In fact, for all the barren expanses of its upper reaches, the Valle d’Aosta seems as flush with produce as the Po plain or the Amalfi coast.
Charrère, who is not only the Valle d’Aosta’s best-known wine producer but a sometime ski instructor and hiking guide, is one of those tall, wiry mountain men who seem to weather rather than age. With his long, crooked nose and intense, deep-set eyes, he looks like a bird of prey when he stops suddenly and points out an ibex mountain goat off in the distance, its big rack of horns barely detectable against the boulder-strewn backdrop. When he greets a friend on the trail in his French-inflected Valle d’Aosta patois, it’s yet another example of the indefinable, imprecise nature of “Italian” culture.
We stop at a rifugio (mountain cabin) for a sandwich stuffed with mocetta (a local prosciutto made from ibex and/or chamois) and some icy mountain water. That’s followed with a few slices of the Valle d’Aosta’s trademark fontina cheese, as the blinding mountain rays bake the sunbathers who’ve spread out on the deck. After an uphill climb of some two hours, the food has the effect of an intravenous transfusion; it’s hard to remember a more satisfying sandwich, more fortifying cheese, more quenching, mineral-tinged water.
Off in one direction is Monte Bianco, walling us off from France, while behind us is the Gran Paradiso, shutting us off from the rest of Italy. Like any frontier, Valle d’Aosta doesn’t feel like a part of anywhere in particular, but rather like some kind of hybrid mini-nation whose borders can’t be clearly defined. It’s the mountain in a chain that no one notices, until someone with a good eye points it out.
On the way back down to Aymavilles, Charrère points to a grassy hillside on which the outlines of ancient terraces can still be made out. “Those all used to be vineyards,” he says, explaining how viticulture all but disappeared in the region during (and especially after) the two World Wars. “At the end of the 1800s there were more than three thousand hectares of vines in the Valle d’Aosta. Now there are less than eight hundred, although viticulture is making a comeback.”
It is, however, a very small-scale revolution. Considering not only the physical contours of the Valle d’Aosta but the tiny population of the region, its wine production is an occasionally interesting footnote to Italy’s overall output. There are single estates elsewhere in Italy that produce more wine annually than the entire region of Valle d’Aosta, which has only 385 acres of vineyards registered under its all-encompassing DOC. These vineyards are divided among thousands of different growers, so many of them are not much bigger than family vegetable gardens. The commercial wine industry in the region consists of about a dozen private estates (of which Charrère has become the unofficial ambassador) and five regional co-ops, among them the local enology school, the Istitut Agricole Régional, which produces some excellent wines.
Aosta was once a Roman colony, and perhaps the best place to try the full range of Valle d’Aosta wines is at the Ad Forum enoteca, a regional wine-promotion center built on ancient Roman walls in the center of the city. In fact, for an American—for any non-valdostano, really—the only way to truly learn about the wines is to go there. Given the minuscule quantities of wine and the substantial number of tourists coming in to hike and ski (Courmayeur and Cervino are the two most famous ski areas), very little Valle d’Aosta wine makes it out of the region, never mind overseas.
But if there were ever a wine region that merited a field trip, Valle d’Aosta is it. The valley often feels like a land that time forgot, with a string of Medieval castles set on dramatic hillside perches and terraced vineyards where tractors would fear to tread. As in nearby Liguria and the Valtellina region of Lombardy, viticulture here seems more like an endurance sport than a way to make a living. At the western end of the zone, in Morgex, vineyards are cultivated at twelve hundred meters and up, making them some of the highest in Europe.
Once a colony of Piedmont, when the region was ruled by the House of Savoy, the Valle d’Aosta consists of a single province bisected by the A5 autostrada. The soils in the vineyards are predominantly glacial moraine (a rocky, gritty, semifertile mixture), so grape choices and wine styles are primarily determined by altitude. Vineyards climb from about three hundred meters in Donnas and Arnad to a median of about eight hundred in Aosta, and then up again to the heights of Morgex and La Salle, where the flowery, superacidic blanc de Morgex grape manages to become a wine.
Not surprisingly, Valle d’Aosta is a hodgepodge of Italian, French, and Swiss grape varieties. The headliner is the local version of nebbiolo, called picotendro, which gives the wines of Donnas and Arnad a vague resemblance to Barolo. Moscato bianco, here called muscat chambave, is made into exotically fruity dry and sweet wines, as is pinot grigio, which is confusingly referred to in Chambave as malvoisie. French varieties such as chardonnay, gamay, grenache, pinot noir, and syrah give some wines a familiar ring, but on the whole the viticulture of Valle d’Aosta is as singular as its dialect: The Institut Agricole Régional has cataloged thirteen “indigenous” grapes of the region, which factor into the majority of DOC-labeled wines here. The most diffuse of these are petit rouge, a tart, spicy red found throughout the central Aosta valley; and fumin, a meatier, syrah-like red that Charrère and others say will be the native red of the future.
Because of the mix of grape and place names on Valle d’Aosta wine labels (not to mention the mix of French and Italian), figuring out just what’s in the bottle can be a little confusing. The region has a single overarching Valle d’Aosta DOC, much like that of Alto Adige. But the twenty-five styles of wine that fall under the DOC classification are both varietal wines (chardonnay or pinot noir) and geographically designated wines (Donnas or Torrette). There are seven subzones of Valle d’Aosta, in which twelve distinct wines are made, along with ten varietal wines and three wines best described as catchall styles. Since it can be tough to remember which is a grape and which is a place (and because Valle d’Aosta wine is such a limited universe), we’ve listed all twenty-five styles below.
This is one of those combination grape/place names. The blanc found primarily in the communes of Morgex and La Salle is known also as prié blanc, although blanc de Morgex et de La Salle is more widely used. The rare, steely sparklers made from the grape are made in the metodo classico (Champagne method), although like most Valle d’Aosta wines they’re rarely found outside their home base. The local co-op, Cave du Vin Blanc de Morgex et de La Salle, makes a version you might sip after a day’s worth of runs at Courmayeur.
The easy comparison is to mountain spring water—maybe mountain spring water that flows through a meadow of wildflowers. Light and piercingly acidic, this bone-dry white is one of the more densely planted varieties in Valle d’Aosta, with all of fifty-four acres registered as DOC plots in Morgex and La Salle. Aside from the Cave du Vin Blanc, producers include Albert Vevey, Marziano Vevey, and Carlo Celegato.
As a dry wine, this local version of moscato bianco is very exotic, almost cidery in taste. It’s another place/grape combination, in that it refers to moscato (muscat) grown in and around the commune of Chambave, about ten miles east of Aosta. The co-op La Crotta di Vegneron and the private estate of Ezio Voyat are the two key producers.
A clone of pinot grigio (gris) grown in and around the commune of Nus, the curiously named malvoisie (it has no relation to malvasia) is a little more fragrant than your typical pinot grigio. La Crotta di Vegneron is the principal producer.
Costantino Charrère’s Les Crêtes winery has become famous for its barrel-fermented and -aged chardonnay called “Cuvée Bois,” a luxuriously smoky wine that may bring to mind a midlevel Burgundy. But his unoaked chardonnay, “Cuvée Frissonière,” may be the more consistently interesting wine of the two: It’s a chardonnay that tastes like what the chardonnay grape tastes like. In the cool heights of Aymavilles, Charrère coaxes the fruit and perfume out of a typically creamy and unaromatic grape. While critics (and Charrère) may disagree, Frissonière seems to better express what the Valle d’Aosta is about than the Cuvée Bois. Other chardonnay makers in the zone include Renato Anselmet.
This German variety is widely planted in the region. Both the Institut Agricole Régional and La Crotta di Vegneron have solid versions.
Better known in the Swiss Valais, this variety makes a light, flinty wine with hints of grapefruit and mandarin orange. Les Crêtes, the Institut Agricole Régional and the tiny Grosjean estate, the latter headquartered in Quart, just east of Aosta, are the key producers. The Grosjeans also make a sweet vendemmia tardiva version.
Sparsely planted, it turns up here and there, but it takes a back seat to some of the other more unique locals.
This is pinot noir vinified in bianco, or as a dry white wine, by gently separating the juice from the skins, as is done in Champagne. It’s practically impossible to find.
The prëmetta grape is referred to as a rosato naturale, in that its skins are so thin and light that all it is capable of making is a pinkish wine. But it can be a great rosé—strawberry scented and brightly fruity, with a spicy cinnamon kick. Costantino Charrère makes one at his second winery, which bears his name, but those wines are not yet exported to the United States.
A catchall denomination for rosé wines made from any combination of approved local grapes.
As in other northern-Italian wine zones, it’s surprising to learn that a greater percentage of Valle d’Aosta wine is red rather than white—in this case nearly 90 percent is red, the vast majority of it light, fruity, Beaujolais-like wine made from local varieties such as petit rouge (the most widely planted) and fumin. What’s also surprising is how good these simple wines can be sometimes, especially when paired with some of the heavier mountain foods of the region. A red such as Torrette (based on petit rouge) is a light, acidic counterbalance to a rich fondue or one of the region’s many cheese-based soups; alternately, it’s a great type of red to serve slightly chilled at a summer picnic.
Aside from the DOC wines listed below, one grape on the rise in the region is syrah, which both Costantino Charrère (in his “Coteau La Tour” bottling) and the Institut Agricole (“Trésor du Caveau”) have employed to great effect. Given that the Valle d’Aosta sits at nearly the exact latitude as the heart of the Côtes-du-Rhône, it’s not surprising that producers are having success with the grape, although, as Charrère admits, red wine is never easy in the heights of Aosta. “We have wonderful light here, but once we get to late September the temperatures really start to drop,” he explains. “Around the end of September we have to cut foliage off the vines so that the grapes get the maximum exposure to the sun. But our red wines don’t have deep concentration. What we lack in density we make up for in bright, clear fruit.”
Along with Donnas, this easterly subzone is home to the picotendro (nebbiolo) grape, a minimum of 70 percent of which must be used in wines labeled Arnad-Montjovet. Sometimes compared to the nebbiolo-based wines of Carema in neighboring Piedmont, they are aromatic reds with firm tannins. The co-op La Kiuva and the tiny estate of Dino Bonin are the key producers.
A petit rouge–based blend (minimum 60 percent) from Chambave and a few surrounding communes. The best example is Ezio Voyat’s Rosso “Le Muraglie,” although it doesn’t carry the DOC designation.
Once a discrete DOC, it was folded into the regional Valle d’Aosta appellation and is now treated as a subzone. The occasional Donnas wine sneaks into the United States, usually by way of the auction houses, where committed nebbiolo fiends snap it up as a curiosity. The principal producer is a co-op, Caves Cooperatives de Donnas.
This, too, was a discrete DOC at one time. The wine is based on petit rouge, a light and pleasant red for sipping after a summer hike with some mocetta or bresaola.
A practically extinct local grape called vien de Nus is the base of this rare red blend, which can also contain petit rouge, pinot noir, and a variety of other red grapes.
One of the better known DOC wines of the region, it is based on petit rouge (70 percent) and can include pinot noir, gamay, fumin, vien de Nus, and other red varieties. Spicy and juicy like a Beaujolais, it’s a great red wine for summer—or for winter, if fonduta or something similarly weighty is on the table. There’s a Les Crête and a Costantino Charrère version, as well as a good version from F.lli Grosjean. Try it chilled.
With a little more stuffing and color than petit rouge, fumin is a native grape on the rise, vaguely reminiscent of a Côtes-du-Rhône syrah in its pepperiness. Again, look to Les Crêtes as well as La Crotta di Vegneron for bottles.
The grape of Beaujolais aptly pops up here, although it’s more commonly used in blends than on its own.
The varietal version of petit rouge, not dramatically different in style from Torrette, Chambave, or Enfer d’Arvier.
A number of producers are experimenting with the grape, although Valle d’Aosta vintners haven’t been able to capture the concentration of Burgundy despite being at a more southerly latitude.
A catchall designation for nouveau, or novello, red wines.
A catchall designation for red blends that is rarely used.
Flétri is the French equivalent of passito, and this exotically perfumed sweet wine from moscato bianco is definitely worth seeking out in a cheese-rich region such as Valle d’Aosta. It makes an interesting partner for a salty, buttery hunk of Fontina or a more pungent Toma or Robiola from neighboring Piedmont.
La Crotta di Vegneron keeps this all-but-extinct style of wine alive. It’s pinot grigio like you’ve never tasted before, a late-harvest wine with aromas of peaches and wildflowers checked with firm acidity. It’s the ultimate local oddity in a region full of them.
It bears repeating that, aside from Les Crêtes, hardly any of the above wines can be found in the United States. So we have not included a tasting section in this chapter, although we do recommend the Les Crêtes wines should you come across them in your area. There are a few other good Valle d’Aosta names trickling into our market, and if you like acidity, you should seek out some Blanc de Morgex.
Like any wines, Valle d’Aosta are immeasurably improved when consumed in the place where they’re made. After a day of hiking with Charrère in the Parco Nazionale del Gran Paradiso, he took us to a small mountain restaurant where we drank a dry Chambave Muscat from La Crotta di Vegneron with an appetizer of lard and boiled chestnuts, and then his Les Crêtes Fumin with zuppa alla veca, a rich soup of melted fontina cut with broth, orzo, and mountain herbs. Both were the kinds of inimitable combinations that make eating and drinking in Italy such an unpredictable experience.
Nevertheless, the Valle d’Aosta is not a place for the wine collector. It’s a place for the wine adventurer, the person in search of culture rather than commodities. Wines like Blanc de Morgex or Donnas aren’t world-class, but then again, there’s nothing else in the world to compare them with.
PROVINCES: Aosta (AO)
CAPITAL: Aosta
KEY WINE TOWNS: Aosta, Aymavilles, Donnas, Morgex
TOTAL VINEYARD AREA*: 509 hectares, or 1,257 acres. Rank: 20th
TOTAL WINE PRODUCTION*: 27,000 hectoliters, or 713,340 gallons (20th); 12% white, 88% red
DOC WINE PRODUCED*: 25.7% (7th)
SPECIALTY FOODS: Fontina cheese; rennet apples; Martin Sec pears; boudin (blood sausage); lardo di Arnad (lard with mountain herbs); mocetta (local prosciutto, often made from chamois or ibex); porcini mushrooms; chestnuts.
*2000 figures. Rankings out of twenty regions total (Trentino–Alto Adige counted as one). Source: Istituto Statistica Mercati Agro-Alimentari (ISMEA), Rome.
BLANC DE MORGEX: Tartly acidic white grown in the westerly communes of Morgex
(PRIÉ BLANC): and La Salle, in the shadow of Mont Blanc. Vines reach altitudes of twelve hundred meters and more, making them some of the highest in Europe.
MUSCAT/MOSCATO: Dry and sweet wines are made in Chambave from the local clone of moscato bianco, otherwise known as muscat blanc à petits grains.
PETITE ARVINE: Light, citrusy variety better known in wines of the Swiss Valais.
CHARDONNAY: Burgundy’s star can be interesting in the heights of Valle d’Aosta.
OTHERS: MÜLLER-THURGAU; PINOT GRIS/GRIGIO.
PETIT ROUGE: The most widely planted native red. Used in Enfer d’Arvier (85%), Torrette (70%), Chambave Rouge (60%), Nus Rouge (30 percent), and varietal wines.
PICOTENDRO: Local synonym for nebbiolo; used in wines in the Donnas (minimum 85%) and Arnad-Monjovet (minimum 70%) subzones.
PREMETTA: A lightly colored native red used to make a spicy rosé.
FUMIN: Ascendant local variety that bears a slight resemblance to syrah in the jammy, peppery wines it produces.
OTHERS: GAMAY; PINOT NOIR; GRENACHE; SYRAH.
Most of Valle d’Aosta’s whites and reds are meant to be drunk within a few years of release, although their naturally high acids will certainly preserve them for a few years or more. The reds of Donnas and Arnad-Montjovet, based on the nebbiolo grape, can certainly stand up to five or even ten years’ aging; occasionally some Donnas wine turns up in American auctions, and in good years it can bring to mind a lighter-styled Barolo. Top years: 1985, ’88, ’90, ’95, ’96, ’97, ’99.
The most difficult question is: Do you go to the Valle d’Aosta in the winter or summer? Do you hike in the Parco Nazionale del Gran Paradiso or do you ski at Courmayeur? This is a place of incredible natural and culinary diversity. Base yourself in Aosta, and get a grounding in the local wines at the rustic Enoteca Ad Forum (0165-400-11), which has just about every wine made in the region available for sampling. Alternately, choose a mountain lodge within the Parco Nazionale, perhaps in Villeneuve or Aymavilles. There are a number of excellent guides published by the Azienda di Promozione Turistica Grand Paradis (Loc. Champagne 18, Villeneuve; 0165-950-55; www.granparadiso.org).
To download a PDF of this image, visit http://rhlink.com/vita012
DOCG
DOC
