Do you ever feel like drinking like nobody's watching? Who hasn't felt forced to chose a wine by its label or by who you're going to drink it with? We've all been there. We've all done that. But what are you actually drinking when no one's judging? Sometimes it's a super oaky Chardonnay because you need a little comfort. Other times it's just a really nice Rosso di Montalcino because you crave a little tannin, a little grip. Exactly like this one.
This Rosso comes from a tiny winery called Le Lecciaia. They have 10 hectares, and Ontario is the only export market they actually have. Half of their production goes into Brunello. But they save a little fruit to make easier, everyday wines. Like this one!
The vineyards are in Vallafrico, bordering some of the oldest and most prestigious sites in Montalcino. Mr. Pacini bought the property in 1983 and rebuilt the winery, but they still make wine the old way. The fruit is good, the soil is good, the climate is good. The wine is just good.
When I don't have enough time to figure out an elaborate dinner, I run down Grace Street to Festival before the signora closes. I grab a really nice package of bronze-cut fancy pasta, all ridged with those little bronze cuts, and a nice jar of tomato sauce. Sometimes al tartufo, yes. I put it all together and the sauce clings to the tiny ridges, and everything is delicious. Even more so if a wine like this one is sitting right next to it. This bottle has that Sangiovese thing. Bright and earthy, with enough structure to hold up to a plate of pasta or a hunk of cheese. Or just to hold up to you, alone, drinking it because you feel like it. That's allowed.
