It’s coming up on noon as we near the old port of Genoa, and the streets are filled with the unmistakable aroma of hot olive oil. The sailor’s quarter, as this area is called, is a tangle of narrow alleys and hulking palazzi, and on nearly every corner the tiny fry shops known as friggitorie are coming to life. Cast-iron pots hiss and sputter with calamari (squid), gamberetti (shrimp), sarago (bream), and pinky-size anchovy spawn called bianchetti, which come out of the oil looking like French fries with eyes. The cooks are bouncing off one another in their cramped kitchens, energized by the crowds at their take-out windows, like pizza-makers who toss the dough a little higher when they know they’re being watched.
We stop at a weathered-looking friggitoria not far from Genoa’s aquarium, as a cook tosses some just-fried calamari in a big black colander, aerating the glistening rings before dumping them in a heap on the counter. The minuscule kitchen is outfitted in white tile and fronted by a marble slab that looks as if it was installed at the beginning of time. Assorted fritti are piled high across the counter, and there’s an old counter-weighted scale to measure out the portions, but the mustachioed fry man who takes our order doesn’t bother with it: He just plunges his hand into the mound of calamari, wraps up the take in the trademark pink newsprint of the Gazzetto dello Sport, and shoves it across the counter with a curt “Prego,” already off to his next task.
But he doesn’t disappoint. His calamari fritti are a far cry from the rubbery, soggy stuff found in so many restaurants. In fact, aspiring restaurant cooks should be sent to Genoa to study with this guy: The coating is crispy and just slightly moist, the squid tender and juicy, neither of which is a small feat. Hardly any grease bleeds through the newsprint, and it is just as good cold as hot.
We hang around a bit and press the cook for details on his technique, but he’s too busy to be much help. The heat of the oil is obviously critical, and the way he’s tossing and spreading the fritti on the counter seems to play a role, too. But there’s something else going on in there that keeps people coming back, something they can’t replicate at home—namely, the fact that the calamari at the friggitorie are cooked in olive oil, something that’s very expensive for a home cook to do, but indispensable in creating that light texture.
We continue on through the maze of old-town Genoa, methodically emptying the newspaper cone of calamari, checking out the bustle of the port and winding our way through the meandering streets. Some of the friggitorie are not so much storefronts as tiny caves chipped out of ancient stone walls, but nearly all are doing a brisk business; it’s obvious that the fritto misto (mixed fry) is not just an occasional snack but a staple of the Genovese diet. For all of the people eating fried fish like ice cream on the street, there are others who bundle up their fritti and take them home, to spread on top of a salad or serve cold with a drizzle of olive oil and lemon juice.
It’s an addiction, and a tough one to kick: Just when you think you’ve got your fritto misto intake under control, you’re back down at the docks, ducking furtively down dark alleys. The fry men are always there, always well-supplied, luring you back in spite of yourself.
As good as fritto misto may be, however, Genoa is not defined by it. The city may be one of the most underrated food towns in Italy, since most tourists see it only as a jumping-off point for Portofino or Cinque Terre. True, Genoa is a major commercial port—Italy’s largest in fact. But as the capital and geographic heart of Liguria, it is more than just an industrial center. Like its old maritime rival, Venice, it’s not just a city but a culture unto itself.
In many regions of Italy, the foods of the coast and the foods of the interior uplands are so dramatically different they seem like separate cuisines. In Liguria, the mountains and the coast are often one and the same, and their produce comes together on the tables of Genoa. Although the city is right on the water, Genoa is most famous for pesto, a sauce that speaks not of the sea but of the Apennines and Alps farther inland. The Genovese practice of tossing olives into ciuppin (fish stew) is another example of this land-sea fusion.
And Liguria is nothing if not dramatic. Its coastal villages don’t so much sit on the sea as pull themselves out of it, clawing a little way up the rocky slopes and then holding on for dear life. Some, like the fishing hamlets of the Cinque Terre, are best approached by boat. The inland towns are tossed like rafts on a stormy sea of olive groves and umbrella pines, accessed by roads that zigzag up sharp inclines. The few vineyards to be seen, most of them planted on steep terraces, are striking examples of the lengths to which some people will go to make a little wine.
But these scattered vineyards don’t add up to much: Within Italy, only the Valle d’Aosta, which is similarly inhospitable to vines, has less vineyard area (and produces less wine) than Liguria. Olive groves outnumber vineyards in Liguria five-to-one, and many former vintners have turned to the more profitable business of flower-growing, a big industry around the western port of Imperia. For a region so rich in food products—sweet olives and their delicate oils, giant artichokes, wild mushrooms, fragrant herbs—Liguria just can’t support a mass of vineyards, despite having an ideal mix of hot, dry weather and poor soils. According to Filippo Rondelli, whose Terre Bianche estate is in the western Ligurian village of Dolceacqua, “the only problem with Ligurian wines is the work.”
In total, Liguria turns out about 2.5 million bottles of DOC-classified wine per year, every ounce wrested from unforgiving slopes. Given their high cost of production, Ligurian wines can be pricey, which makes them a tough sell in the American market. The conventional wisdom on Liguria is that it makes light wines for sipping at the beach, leaving importers to wonder why they would pit them against fuller-bodied, less expensive bottles from the New World. This is perfectly logical, and it says a lot about the handful of Ligurian wines that do make it to America: Someone (presumably someone with other sources of income) likes them enough to bring them in anyway.
For many wine drinkers, the main reference point for Ligurian wine is the network of vineyard terraces above Cinque Terre, carved from the rock thousands of years ago by the Liguri tribes that gave the region its name. The Liguri, contemporaries of the Etruscans, were the great terrace-builders of ancient Italy, reaching as far as the Valtellina region on Lombardy’s border with Switzerland. But while we can marvel at their accomplishments when hiking the footpaths of Cinque Terre, it’s hard to say much about the modern-day wines. Although there are a handful of producers who are striving for more (notably Walter De Battè in Riomaggiore, who relies on fanatically low yields and a touch of oak aging to extract more flavor from the bosco grape), Cinque Terre remains first and foremost a light vacation white, and not one to write home about at that.
Liguria’s experience is yet another example of Italy’s mostly forgettable recent history with white wine: For all of the interesting white grapes out there, the last three decades have been dominated by what might be called tourist wines: Cinque Terre in Liguria, Frascati in Rome, Galestro in Tuscany, and so on. As elsewhere, only now are consumers discovering what Liguria is really capable of.
Save for a few notable exceptions, Liguria is white-wine country, and the wines to look for above all others are those made from vermentino. As in Sardinia and coastal Tuscany, where the grape also thrives, vermentino not only weathers the intense heat and dryness of the Ligurian hills but seems to assume some of the herbal aromas that so distinguish Ligurian cooking. Thought to have been brought to the Italian Mediterranean by the Spaniards (via Corsica), vermentino is emerging as one of Italy’s truly distinguished native whites.
Generally speaking, the vermentino-based wines of Liguria are a little more delicate and perfumed than their counterparts from elsewhere in the grape’s Mediterranean triangle: Sardinia, in particular, is known for fuller-bodied versions. In eastern Liguria, known as the Levante, it is used in varietal wines in the Colli di Luni and Golfo del Tigullio DOC zones, and plays a supporting role in the Cinque Terre and Colline di Levanto blends. In western Liguria, known as the Ponente, it reaches perhaps its greatest heights in the wide-ranging Riviera Ligure di Ponente zone, which ranges from the outskirts of Genoa to the French border. The main difference is that most Ponente wines are pure varietals, while the Levante wines tend to be blends.
The prime vermentino country in the Ponente is a network of mostly inland villages near Imperia, which, incidentally, is Liguria’s principal olive oil–production zone. In the dusty, scrubby heights of Diano Castello, Ranzo Borgo, Pieve di Teco, and Dolceacqua, vines battle for space with some of Italy’s most beautiful olive groves. It’s impossible not to taste these surroundings in the better Riviera Ligure di Ponente vermentinos: They are distinguished not only by scents of wild fennel and herbs, but by an almost briny quality on the palate. Vermentino is structured enough to stand up to fermentation and aging in small oak barrels, which lends a sheen of creaminess to the otherwise savory flavors. Above all, vermentino is an appetite-whetting wine: It gets you salivating for a bite of calamari, a bowl of garlicky fish soup, maybe some pesto-drenched pasta, each sip and each bite evoking not only the sea but the dewy, piney mountain forests that separate Liguria from Piedmont.
The acknowledged leader in vermentino these days is the Colle dei Bardellini farm in the hills above Imperia, owned by Genovese restaurateurs Pino and Luigi Sola. They make two vermentinos under the Ligure di Ponente DOC, including the single-vineyard “Vigna U Munte,” which shows off not just the aromatic qualities of the grape but a juicy, mouth-filling character more readily associated with Gallura in Sardegna. Another reliable Ligurian name is Terre Bianche, which, like Colli dei Bardellini, is among the few Ligurian brands imported to the United States.
Other producers to keep an out for are Enoteca Bisson, whose “Vigna Erta” vermentino is one of the best in the Levante; Maria Donata Bianchi, from Diano Castello in the Ponente; Tenuta Giuncheo, from Camporosso, also in the Ponente; and Ottaviano Lambruschi, from the eastern end of Liguria in the Colli di Luni. As vermentino grows in popularity, especially in restaurants, it’s worth remembering these producers and DOCs for future reference, as their presence in the American market is sure to grow.
Liguria’s other white-wine star, pigato, may be even longer-established than vermentino, although its origins are unclear. Believed to be an ancient Greek export, pigato is not always easily distinguished from vermentino, even by those who make it. “As vines, they are very similar,” says Filippo Rondelli of Terre Bianche. “In fact, they look like practically the same plant.”
Vermentino and pigato do share some of the same herbal, scrub-brushy qualities and a similarly salty kick on the palate. But pigato is generally considered the more intense wine of the two. “Pigato tends to be more perfumed, and a little more biting on the finish,” says Pino Sola of Colle dei Bardellini. “Vermentino is a little rounder and softer, maybe a little fruitier.”
In addition to both Colle dei Bardellini and Terre Bianche, some great pigato is being made by Loredana Faraldi at her A Maccia farm in Ranzo Borgo, a tiny amount of which makes it to the States. There’s also the cantina of Tommaso and Angelo Lupi in Pieve di Teco, but despite being one of Liguria’s largest private estates, their generally excellent whites (and reds) have had an inconsistent presence in the United States. Among Italians, the big names in pigato also include Riccardo Bruna and Feipu dei Massaretti in Albenga, the latter one of the more historic wineries in western Liguria. If the chance presents itself, these are wines worth checking out. In a market dominated by sweet, oaky, often overly alcoholic whites, pigato and vermentino are like refreshing sea breezes, wines that speak very clearly of where they come from.
The idea that a wine—by way of its aroma or flavor—can transport you to a different place has a lot to do with how a Ligurian red wine finds its way onto a restaurant wine list. Since only about a third of Liguria’s already small production is devoted to reds, and since many of Liguria’s best-known reds—Rossese di Dolceacqua in particular—can be a little strange, a restaurant list is probably the only place you’re likely to find them. Aside from the desire to look smart, a sommelier probably selects a Ligurian red precisely because it is a little strange. The overwhelming preference these days is for sweet, densely concentrated, well-oaked reds, and at times it seems as though all the reds of the world are veering toward the same style, regardless of grape variety. There doesn’t seem to be any danger of that happening in Liguria.
As with white wines, there are fairly clear divisions among the red wines of the western region of Ponente and the eastern region of Levante. The Ponente is dominated by two grapes: rossese, which has its own DOC zone in Dolceacqua, and ormeasco, the local name for dolcetto, which pops up as a varietal wine. In the Levante, the wines are highly variable blends, often incorporating grapes more readily associated with Tuscany, such as sangiovese, canaiolo, and ciliegiolo. In either case, expect a foresty, earthy, mushroomy quality to these reds, particularly those from the Ponente, which seems to take its stylistic cues from neighboring Provence.
Rossese di Dolceaqua and ormeasco from Riviera Ligure di Ponente tend to be lighter-styled reds, with lots of frutti di bosco flavors, red and black raspberries in particular. Many of the above-named producers of whites (Lupi, Terre Bianche, A Maccia) are also producing noteworthy reds, but drinkers should be warned: these are decidedly savory wines. Like their white counterparts, they seem to absorb the scents and flavors of the thick Mediterranean scrub, giving the very fresh, berried flavors of the fruit a resiny, herbal tang. This is less pronounced in ormeasco than rossese, but on the whole the Ligurian version of dolcetto is not easily confused with the rounder, plumper Piedmontese version.
On the eastern Riviera, the reds from the Colli di Luni DOC may remind some people of small-scale Chiantis (La Colombiera makes a good one), and the rare varietal ciliegiolo (red or rosé) from the Golfo del Tigullio DOC is worth reaching for if you happen to see some in a Portofino café (Enoteca Bisson, which uses the Golfo del Tigullio DOC, exports a small quantity of ormeasco- and ciliegiolo-based reds and rosés). Overall, Rossese di Dolceacqua remains the definitive Ligurian red. And as more Ligurian producers modernize what are generally considered some of the more technologically stunted wineries in Italy, there is reason to believe that Rossese, among others, could be a richer, more full-bodied red in the future.
It would certainly seem that Liguria, for all its physical difficulties, is capable of more. With its mix of Alps and Apennines blocking off moisture from the west, it is an exceptionally dry region, and its soils—mostly poor, calcareous sands on very steep, well-drained slopes—are a red winemaker’s dream. It all comes down, once again, to logistics: In a sleepy region that seems to have all but left wine behind, the conversation is still more about potential than results.
Although a handful of Liguria’s seven DOC zones allow for the production of sparkling wines, there are barely any to be found. Sweet wines, too, are mostly local oddities, the most noteworthy being the sweet version of Cinque Terre called Sciacchetrà. Its commercial production is more or less limited to Walter De Battè, but since a little of his wine is exported, it merits a mention. Redolent of honey, dried fruits, and nutmeg, the principal attraction of this passito is its cleansing acidity; like all great sweet wines, it presents its rich flavors without being cloying. If you’re up for a little detective work, it’s worth a look.
PROVINCES: Genova (GE), Imperia (IM), La Spezia (SP), Savona (SV)
CAPITAL: Genova
KEY WINE TOWNS: Albenga, Dolceacqua, La Spezia, Ranzo Borgo
TOTAL VINEYARD AREA*: 2,327 hectares, or 5,750 acres. Rank: 19th
TOTAL WINE PRODUCTION*: 169,000 hectoliters, or 4,464,980 gallons (19th); 65% white; 35% red
DOC WINE PRODUCED*: 16% (14th)
SPECIALTY FOODS: olives and olive oil; artichokes; pesto (sauce of fresh basil, garlic, pine nuts, olive oil, and grated Parmigiano cheese); ciuppin or burrida (fish stew, often flavored with olives); focaccia (salty, olive oil–flavored bread); wild mushrooms.
*2000 figures. Rankings out of twenty regions total (Trentino–Alto Adige counted as one). Source: Istituto Statistica Mercati Agro-Alimentari (ISMEA), Rome.
BOSCO: Fairly light white found principally in the terraces of Cinque Terre.
PIGATO: Thought to be of Greek origin, it is largely confined to the western Riviera, most densely planted around Albenga. Sharp, herbal, and distinctive.
VERMENTINO: Found in both eastern and western Liguria, this dewy white of Spanish origin best captures the wild, rugged nature of the region. Exotically aromatic, with an almost salty tang on the palate.
ORMEASCO: The Ligurian name for dolcetto. Primarily found in the western end of the region, particularly around Pieve di Teco and Ranzo Borgo.
ROSSESE: Liguria’s most distinctive red, thought to have come from neighboring Provence. Makes savory, woodsy reds.
SANGIOVESE: The base of most blends in the eastern Riviera, including the Colli di Luni, a DOC zone that is shared with Tuscany. Often blended with other Tuscan grapes such as ciliegiolo and canaiolo to create bright, berried reds.
CILIEGIOLO: Found also in Tuscany, this cherry-scented red makes light reds and rosés.
As with so many of Italy’s whites, Liguria’s wines are best consumed within a few years of the vintage. Most of the reds, too, are made in a lighter style and are not meant for long aging. However, as in much of Italy, six of the last seven vintages (1997 to 2004, with 2002 the exception) have generally been kind to the region’s vintners.
A great spot for wine lovers in Genova is the Sola Enoteca (Via Barabino 120 R.; 010-594-513), owned by Pino and Luigi Sola, the proprietors of the Colle dei Bardellini wine estate in nearby Imperia. They offer not only their own wines but a panorama of the rest of Liguria as well. In the hills above the well-traveled village of Dolceacqua, not far from the French border, the Terre Bianche winery has a small agriturismo and restaurant that are well worth the treacherous drive to get to (0183-314-26). East of Genoa, a not-to-miss food town is the little village of Recco, where the foccacia alone is worth the trip. And in the coastal town of Chiavari, check out the Enoteca Bisson (0185-31-44-62), which is both a winery and wine shop.
Enoteca Bisson Golfo del Tigullio Vermentino “Vigna Erta,” $–$$
Colle dei Bardellini Riviera Ligure di Ponente Vermentino “U Munte,” $–$$
Terre Bianche Riviera Ligure di Ponente Pigato, $$
Limited availability of wines makes a Ligurian tasting a bit difficult. The above producers each offer both pigato and vermentino, so feel free to use either depending on availability. Bisson’s “Vigna Erta” is textbook vermentino, with a trademark herbal tang reminiscent of the Mediterranean scrub. The Colle dei Bardellini vermentino has a rounder, more juicy quality offset by a mineral-edged, almost salty sensation on the finish. The flavors may remind you of wild herbs: fennel, sage, mint, and so on. You’ll find similar aromas in the pigato, with a slightly sharper, finer edge to them. These are great whites for fragrant fish soups, salty fish fries, or pesto-topped pastas. Other vermentino and pigato producers from western Liguria to look for include Lupi, A Maccia, and Tenuta Giuncheo, while from eastern Liguria keep your eyes out for whites from the Colli di Luni DOC.
Lunae “Auxo” Colli di Luni Rosso, $
Terre Bianche Rossese di Dolceacqua, $
The Rossese in particular is likely to remind you of a light-styled Côtes-du-Rhône or some of the more savory reds of Provence: Its fresh berry flavors have an earthy, savory edge, a little more so than the brighter, fruitier Colli di Luni wine. Both are crisp, lighter-styled reds for dishes with a little tang: think of sauces such as puttanesca (spiked with capers and anchovies) or maybe classic Ligurian stuffed peppers. Other producers of Rossese include Lupi (who also makes ormeasco) and Tenuta Giuncheo. Note: All of these wines are produced in very small quantities, although they are exported.
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