Early during the first quarter of my freshman year at college, I decided I wanted to major in art history. I was a couple months into an Art History 101 class and could clearly envision my future as curator for some fabulous museum or gallery, or possibly work for one of the big auction houses like Christie’s. Even though this was my first ever art history class – I just knew that this was what I was destined for. I excitedly called my Dad to inform him of my plans – and after our brief discussion, I hightailed it to the business office to declare my major in Business Administration.
To this day, my art history classes remain some of my most favorite. They made me look at the world like I hadn’t before – and in a way I haven’t since. Starting with ancient art – from ornate Egyptian tombs to Greek architecture to Roman marble sculpture. Then the Renaissance with the David and Mona Lisa. Next came the utterly fascinating, over-the-top religious works of Bosch and El Greco. My art history course worked its way through each era and I found myself in awe of them all . . . and then we got to the work of Rembrandt and – well, I didn’t like it.
Was his work groundbreaking? Was he able to capture people in their daily lives like no artist had before? Was his work influential to countless others? Yes, yes, and yes. Is he considered by many to be the best painter that ever lived? Absolutely.
I’m not debating these assertions – all I’m saying is that I personally didn’t care for his work. (And for the record – I still don’t). I thought it was dark and dreary. He did a lot of self portraits that all ran together in my mind. Nothing about his work spoke to me.
Bottom line: I wouldn’t want his work hanging in my house (Hubs Note: Yeah…..that was never an option in the first place). I’d rather have a calming Monet landscape or fun and colorful Matisse:
Right about now you might be asking “That’s all well and good, but WTF does Rembrandt have to do with Brunello di Montalcino?”
Patience . . . I’m getting there.
In the vast world of wine, there are certain wines that are considered to be “classics” or “benchmarks” of their respective varieties. Wines such as Burgundy (Pinot Noir), Bordeaux (Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc), Barolo (Nebbiolo), and Brunello di Montalcino (Sangiovese).
Brunello di Montalcino (hereinafter “BdM”) is considered by many to be the highest quality and most pure expression of Sangiovese. It’s been called Tuscany’s grandest wine zone by Jancis Robinson. It was one of Italy’s first DOCs (1966) and later one of its first DOCGs (1980). To qualify as a DOC/DOCG, several hoops must be jumped through – such as establishing geographical boundaries, permitted grape varieties grown, and limitations on yields. For a more detailed explanation of these terms – read this short article by a Master of Wine.
Unlike many other Tuscan wines, BdM is not a blend – it is made from 100% Sangiovese. Specifically, the Brunello clone that is grown exclusively in the region. BdM has the longest aging requirements in all of Italy: a minimum of four years (2 years in oak, 4 months in bottle) before it can be released to the public. These wines are full bodied with high tannins and acidity, and very long lived.
BdM is held in high regard by enthusiasts, critics, students and collectors alike. When a classic BdM is served – words like “majestic”, “elegant” and “oh holy shit this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!” fall off tongues. Except for mine – because I don’t like BdM (insert blasphemous gasps here).
Now before you members of the Brunello Brigade come after me with pitchforks, let me explain. Like with Rembrandt, I’m NOT claiming that BdM is crap nor am I saying that I cannot appreciate BdM. What I am saying is that I, subjectively, don’t care for it. I would love to find a BdM that changes my mind. Believe me, I’ve tried! Over the years, I’ve tasted many – particularly during my studies for the Italian Wine Scholar and at the recent Master class I attended led by Master Sommelier Peter Neptune where we tasted 11 different BdMs.
That evening, the wines tasted ranged from a 2013 Camigliano BdM to a 1997 Valdicava BdM. There were BdM from 2001 and 2010 – both highly rated vintages. All 11 wines tasted were very high quality and from top producers such as Altesino, Donatella Cinelli Colombini and Salvioni. I appreciated these wines, and was particularly amazed at how their structure held up over the years.
But did I like them? No, not really. Why? Well, for starters the tannins were overwhelming. They usually dominate in a BdM’s youth, but are still over prevalent (for me) in an aged BdM. And even if I can get past the Hoover suctioning tannins, I don’t particularly enjoy the taste of BdM. While I’m definitely not a juicy fruit bomb lover, the orange peel/medicinal cherry/tea leaf flavors I find in BdM aren’t appealing to me either.
And it’s not that I don’t like Italian wines. I love Barbera, Aglianico, and Etna Rosso. And I actually really enjoy Rosso di Montalcino – more than most Brunellos in fact. Even though Rossos are usually from younger or “lesser” vineyards, have few restrictions on production (no oak aging required!) and are way less expensive. I know this is like saying I’d prefer to wear Tory Burch shoes as opposed to Manolo Blahniks, or that I’d rather drive a Chevy truck than a Tesla – but both of these examples are also true (Hubs Note: She drove a Chevy truck for a decade).
However, like a Rembrandt painting that I don’t want in my house, I don’t want a BdM in my glass. I’d rather have a dozen other wines instead. And on that note, I’m going to go pour myself a non-BdM and leave you with this awesome outline on Montalcino.