There is a specific hour in October when Nebbiolo makes complete sense. It is dawn, or just before it. You are somewhere in the Langhe hills — Barolo, or Barbaresco, or Roero — and the valleys below have filled overnight with a thick white fog that reaches almost to your feet. Only the tops of...
Pour a glass of amber wine into good light and the first thing you notice is that the color is wrong. It should be pale straw, or green-gold, or the buttery yellow of a Chardonnay. Instead it is amber — the color of tea steeped too long, or of honey held up to a window. Take a sip and the second...
Walk into a regenerative vineyard in October and you will notice what is missing before that is there. There is no bare orange soil between the rows. No smell of chemicals. Almost no sound of machinery. What you will see instead is a low green carpet of cover crops between the vines, wildflowers...
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