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| Just a couple of a wide selection |
Just discovered a new wine, quite by accident, since I’m not especially partial to Italian swill. Some may disagree and I say it’s because they’re simply disagreeable.
Nevertheless, there I was at a tiny table, outside a wine bistro, basking in sunshine and conversation. For no particular reason, other than the inside was stacked to the ceiling with vintages and the barmaid was young and frisky….ok, scratch the part about the wine to the ceiling, although it was there, honest. Anyway, although she was just the other side of twenty, I asked her voluptuous opinion on which nectar of the gods should wet my lips. Instead, she suggested Primitivo. Never let it be said I let age interfere with finding a new wine, etc. And when it comes to wine, just remember the old adage, “The size of the grape doesn’t matter. Only plump and luscious count.”
Now, where were we? Wine. New discovery.
Every heard of Primitivo?
I pictured a small Italian village, women herding goats, men wearing soiled socks when they stomp the grapes.
“Don Carisno, you want that I should persuade da grapes to give up some juice?”
“Make it look like an accident. Wear dusty socks.”
Turns out, Primitivois the Italian word for early-one and refers to the grape variety we in the U.S. of A call Zinfandel. Wine experts (some even older than 20) have traced our Zinfandel’s roots back to Puglia, a region in Italy’s deep south, and from there back to Croatia. Oh, what a tangled cultural web we Americans have woven.
Primitivo is a deep purple grape, high in tannins and in Puglia, the wine is sometimes referred to as Mirr Test, or hard wine. Primitivo may refer to the grape’s early ripening, or to the somewhat unusual occurrence with this type of grape to find ripe berries along side green ‘grape-shot.’
In any case, the Primitivos I’ve tasted….now that I'm on a quest…are dark and deeply colored and the taste is delightfully light and rounded. When I say ‘light’ I don’t mean the wine is watery. As a matter of fact, the taste is intensive, but there’s no tongue-twisting tannic jerk at the end. Smooth. Flavorful. Soulful. Devout.
Another thing you’ll appreciate is the mild price. Over here in Europe, you’ll pay the equivalent of five to twelve bucks a bottle. So far that hasn’t included a drinking companion, but I’m ever hopeful.
