Guest Blogger #2
Talitha attached a note to the bottle of the 2005 Albani Bonarda: Open carefully. Now, I'm naturally very clumsy, so I'm used to these warnings. But when I opened it, I knew immediately what she meant. A loud pop, a fizzing noise, and when I looked into the neck, I saw a plume of smoke like I'd just shot a revolver (not that I would know what that looks like, or anything). I sniffed; it smelled pleasantly of wet slate.
From the Pavia region of Lombardy in the northwest area of Italy, this Bonarda was a bit of a mystery. I texted Talitha immediately: Is it supposed to be fizzy? Yes, she replied.
There was something mysterious about this wine. Here's the secret: the Albani Bonarda is secretly a Croatina–it's not at all related to the Bonarda Piemontese. It's similar to a dolcetto; dark as night, rich and juicy. It has a mineral, earthy quality–hence the stony bouquet–but it has a lot of fruit too.
If you visit the Albani Wine website via Babelfish, as I had to resort to (because I don't speak the language of my ancestors), you'll discover that Pavia: has one ancient tradition in the cultivation of the screw and the art of the wine. As anyone who knows me can attest, I am all about the cultivation of the screw.
But seriously. The slightly frizzante quality lends itself to the Croatina varietal. It doesn't stick around, as with a Lambrusco, but it plays on the tongue ever so pleasantly at the first sip. On the next sip, the taste comes on strong. It's a soft, lively wine, fruity but not too young. And then there's the pleasantly, ever-so-slightly bitter finish. And the beauty of this wine is that it's an immediate drinker, meant to be consumed right away, and man does it open up beautifully. It's not complex, but it has its own layers, and they subtly unfold after it's allowed to breathe for a few minutes.
It turns out that this is a fun wine to drink on its own, but N and I had some eating to do. I made some pan-fried cornmeal-coated catfish with maple butter, and your basic green salad with arugula sprouts and (forlorn, winter) tomatoes. It's a perfect pairing, because catfish itself is a delicately sweet, meaty fish, and the Albani Bonarda is meant to be consumed with something as substantial and simple as cornmeal-crusted catfish. I think it'd be equally as good with an even meatier fish or a light red meat–pork chops with sour cherries, for example. Or some dried fruits and a nice stinky cheese. And though you can't all have the enviable view that we do from our apartment, I must add the Albani Bonarda is best enjoyed with a view of a crescent moon hanging over the Chrysler Building.
