Listan Negro

            This is the black version of Palomino, an undistinguished white grape mostly used for sherry. Recently, reds from Listan Negro produced in the Canary Islands have been getting quite a bit of attention in the U.S., largely due to the efforts of importer Jose Pastor.

            One often in the spotlight is this Tajinaste Tenerife Valle de la Orotava, which uses a “braided cord” production in which ungrafted vines, some nearly a century old, lie low against the island’s volcanic soil. Part of the production gets several months of oak aging.

            The New York Times’ Eric Asimov described the 2010 Tajinaste as “juicy and perfumed.” We would have been better off waiting a year or two to taste our bottle from that vintage. It seemed closed in, with the oak dominating the fruit.

            Food pairing: Many tasters suggest slow-cooked pork, often with a rich or even spicy sauce.

Callet

            An indigenous grape of Mallorca that’s widely grown on the island, but until recent years wasn’t much associated with high-quality wine.

            A winery that has done a lot to change that impression is Anima Negra (Black Soul), which goes to great lengths to coax the flavor out of this light-colored grape. The 2005 AN was judged by the Age newspaper as the best wine imported into Australia, where they know a little about powerful reds.

The label on the 2006 vintage says that yields from 50- to 80-year-old vines are kept low with pruning, and then “each berry is sorted to ensure only the highest quality grapes are used.” Fermentation is partly in cement and partly in large oak vats, and the wine is aged for 17 months in new oak barrels and an additional two months in cement.

Taking these pains really pays off. This is a noble wine, with the combination of delicacy and power found in top Pinot Noirs. The oak is of course quite prominent, but the main impression is of a long and complex mouthful of rich red fruit. It’s a bottle that I wasn’t ashamed to admit to Lorrie that I paid $55 for.

(And at that, it’s a second wine. In “exceptional years,” Anima Negra releases Son Negre, “a unique wine with a superior quality” and a label featuring a priapic devil.)

This bottle paired wonderfully with grilled lamb chops and a Mallorcan potato-and-vegetable dish called tombet.

Ives

            Ives is one of the oldest names in American grape lore, if not one of the most honored. Its origins are cloudy. It is commonly thought of as labrusca, but the Vitis variety catalog calls it an interspecific crossing, naming only one parent: Hartford, a labrusca cross with Isabella, which is itself a labrusca-vinifera hybrid. The trouble with this genealogy is that Vitis dates Ives from 1844, and Hartford from 1849. But it’s not totally off the mark, according to a 1928 paper by chemists at the New York Agricultural Experiment Station at Geneva, whose analysis led them to conclude that “the Ives grape is not a pure Vitis labrusca but probably contains some Vitis vinifera mixed with still another strain.”

            Well, anyway: If it quacks like a duck it is a duck, and you’d be advised to duck this grape unless you really enjoy that musky labrusca flavor. This wine comes from Bully Hill Vineyards, founded by a scion of the powerhouse Taylor family of Finger Lakes wine pioneers and one of the earliest champions of hybrid grapes in that region. They say it’s “bursting with native American fruit and floral essence;” I say it tastes like cough syrup. But it’s as sturdy as Madeira. My bottle hardly changed flavor in the several months it sat on the kitchen counter waiting for me to brave another taste.

Food pairing: Aspirin, the next time flu season comes around.

Meynieu 6

            This is a French grape with some new-country roots. It’s a cross between Semillon and Baco Blanc, the latter of which has as one of its parents the 19^th-century American grape Noah, a riparia-labrusca crossing.

            Slate Run Vineyards southeast of Columbus, Ohio, is the only place I’ve found selling a wine, called Premblanc Reserve, made entirely from this grape. A high-school pal helped me get a couple of bottles last year, and I was dismayed to see that it was the 2006 vintage. Sure enough, the first bottle we opened was quite brown. Yesterday I opened the other one, just to see if it could be used as cooking wine, and was surprised to discover that it was only slightly over the hill, and close enough to the summit to be enjoyable.

            The winery provides little information about this wine, other than to call it “white Bordeaux-styled” and (incorrectly) “a Sauvignon Blanc hybrid.” Other Slate Run wines see some oak, and this one evidently did as well. It was soft, and the flavors seemed rounded and mellowed with age, indeed rather Bordeaux-like with no hint of foxiness.

            We haven’t had this with a meal, but it should be fine with comfortable American-style preparations of white meats.

Vernaccia Nera

            This variety from the Italian Marche region is unrelated to the better-known Vernaccia di San Gimigiano of Tuscany or Vernaccia di Oristano of Sardinia. The name is thought to be related to the Latin vernaculus, meaning “of this place,” and to the English word “vernacular.” So, in the area around Serrapetrona, this is the local black grape.

            As such it has its own DOCG, at least when it is made in a dry spumante style. The Colli di Serrapetrona winery, however, specializes in still wines: rosés, reds from partially dried grapes fermented and aged in oak, and this product, fermented in stainless steel.

            It’s not complex, but tasty enough. Were it not for the firm tannins, this medium-bodied wine might remind you of a cru Beaujolais with its lip-smacking grapiness. At a mid-teens price point, I considered it a worthwhile new wine experience.

            Food pairing: I prepared pork with fennel because the maker suggested it as a match, and while the dish was suitable we didn’t consider it magically harmonious. A step closer to that ideal might be if that fennel were flavoring Italian sausages served over pasta.

Veltliner Gruen

            This Central European variety lost favor among the wine elite after becoming almost too trendy in recent years, but this bottling from Austria’s Weinrieder could make new converts. The grape, known as Gruner Veltliner seemingly everywhere except the Vitis variety catalog, is a cook’s favorite because of its affinity for food.

            The importer Blue Danube Wine Co. in Los Altos, Calif., which provided my bottle, speaks of its “pleasant fruity zing.” That’s a good description as far as it goes, but it didn’t go far enough for my bottle of the 2008 vintage. The wine’s fresh acidity gave it a very alert character – zesty without being sharp. The quite pronounced flavor was citrusy and a bit peachy, with mineral overtones. Very, very enjoyable, and a good value in the high teens. Gru-vee, man.

            Food pairing: We had it with simply grilled salmon, but pork would seem to be its natural partner. Nearly every wine writer cites its versatility, recommending it with seafood, white meats and even vegetables such as asparagus and artichokes. Like the Riesling that overshadows it, it also makes well-balanced dessert wines.

Pallagrello Nero

            This grape, a specialty of the Campanian province of Caserta, is unusual in that it has a white-grape sibling, Pallagrello Bianco. These ancient grapes were long thought to be identical to the better-known Coda di Volpe Bianca and Nera, but have since been recognized as distinct varieties.

            This largely took place because of the efforts of a former lawyer, Peppe Mancini, and a former journalist, Manuela Piancastelli, who championed both Pallagrellos along with another traditional variety, Casavecchia, grown at their small property called Terre del Principe, and won recognition for all three in Italy’s national catalogue of winemaking grapes.

            Many reviewers tout the richness and longevity of this wine. Indeed, I’m not sure if the 2006 vintage we tasted in 2012 was a bit too old or too young. It was enjoyable, but the tannins were more noticeable than the fruit, making for a bottom-heavy flavor.

Food pairing: My favorite suggestion comes from Italian Wine Merchants, which calls it “ruddy and rustic” and says, “If you're looking for a wine to accompany your favorite Tuesday night dinner of cheeseburgers, look no further.” As it happened, we drank it with broiled sockeye salmon with a spinach-tomato-capers sauce, which needed a lighter and fruitier red. Perhaps it would go with veal and mushroom pasta, if your conscience allows it.

Malvasia di Schierano

            To produce DOC Malvasia di Castelnuovo Don Bosco, this black-berried variety is grown in several hilly communes southeast of Asti.

            It is very appealing wine, its color like that of cherry juice and its mouthfeel creamy, thanks to its slight effervescence. The flavor is aromatic and rather interestingly complex for such a fresh and light-bodied wine. Strawberries are predominant, and the gentle sweetness is saved from being insipid by a slightly tannic and astringent finish. You may guess from the label that it’s aimed at the young-lover market, but at 5.5 percent alcohol it aims to charm rather than seduce.

            We had it with the first strawberries of the season to finish Sunday dinner, and it seemed an ideal pairing.

Blanc du Bois

            After my unflattering description of Haak Vineyard’s Jacquez port in the previous post, I feel compelled to follow up immediately with another Haak product that I found surprisingly enjoyable.

            I hadn’t found much to like in Southern hybrid grapes, but this one is a happy accident. According to Wine Compass Blog, it resulted from a program by the University of Florida’s Leesburg Research Station to create a grape resistant to Pierce's disease, a bacterial infection of vines. The result in 1968 was Blanc du Bois, which has one muscadine parent and one that’s a vinifera hybrid. It is disease-resistant, but the bonus is that it makes delightful wine.

            With its citrusy flavors and good balance, it could easily pass as a European cousin of Sauvignon Blanc. It should definitely improve the appreciation for American hybrids in general and Texas-grown hybrids in particular. Haak buys the grapes for this bottling, but also sells a higher-end version from older vines on its own property that has won numerous medals and is a wine I’m looking forward to trying.

            Food pairing: I’ll second Haak’s recommendation of poultry and creamy pasta dishes.

Jacquez

            A grape with an interesting story. The National Grape Registry says it’s a hybrid of V. aestivalis and a V. cinerea x V. vinifera cross. It supposedly originated in the southeastern U.S. in the early 19^th century as a naturally occurring hybrid, and then was exported to Europe after the phylloxera crisis. Jancis Robinson says it is common in Madeira under the name Black Spanish.

            It remains popular in the U.S., particularly in Texas under the name of Lenoir, for its resistance to Pierce’s disease and the quality of its dark, sugary red juice. (A Google search turns up other attributes: NIH studies showing that compounds in the juice may have anti-diarrheal effects and protect the skin against UV damage.)

            This example comes from Haak Vineyards south of Houston and has a flavor profile similar to traditional port. Lovers of that wine may find this one a bit watery, however, and although wine from this grape is said to maintain or even improve its quality after it has been opened, my bottle did eventually acquire a distinct sourness.

            Good for sipping after the barbecue or with the usual port accompaniments such as nuts or cheese.

Trepat

            This grape comes from Catalonia, and nearly all the 2,700 acres reportedly in production worldwide are there. It is mainly used for rosés and cava, but a couple of growers make it into a red. Mas Foraster’s technique is to cut the usual production of its 50+-year-old vines in half and to conduct a secondary fermentation in oak, followed by five months of aging in oak. It’s rather like a working-class family determined to see its child become a doctor.

            Well, the doctor is in. This is a very enjoyable light red, “delicate and elegant” as Foraster describes it, with a nice flavor of strawberries and other red fruits.

            Some compare it with Pinot Noir, and guided by that, we drank it with a roast chicken. I think Foraster’s pairing recommendation of rice, pasta and white meats is closer to the mark.

Duras

            Duras is strongly associated with France’s Tarn department, which claims a wine-making history of several millennia. Despite its longevity, this black grape hasn’t earned much renown, but in my opinion it deserves more appreciation.

            An excellent ambassador for the variety is this offering from Domaine Plageoles, known for its promotion of Gaillac wines and dedication to natural wine-making. There’s a nice profile of the Plageoles family on The Vine Route blog. Their range of wines from traditional Gaillac varieties would make the winery a rewarding destination for the varietal hunter. My bottle was from Astor Wines in New York. Not cheap at $24, but very interesting to experience.

            What’s particularly noticeable about this hearty red is the purity and clarity of its fruit, due in large part to its vinification and elevage in cement vats. It has a very pleasant and distinct blackberry flavor that sets it apart from the crowd. The only grape I could really say it resembles is Sagrantino.

            Food pairing: We had it with a roast leg of lamb, and it was a worthy companion. Any flavorful meaty dish, possibly one that’s slightly rustic, would be a good excuse to open a bottle.

Diamond

            Diamond, or Moore’s Diamond, goes back a long way in American viticultural history. Thomas Pinney’s “A History of Wine in America” calls it one of the first secondary hybrids, in which two hybrids are crossed or one is crossed with a native grape. Jacob Moore, a commercial nurseryman in Brighton, N.Y., created the variety in 1870 by breeding the native Concord grape with Iona, which has vinifera genes from its grandparent Catawba.

            Diamond is still widely used for wine across the Northeast, and perhaps nowhere farther northeast than Candia Vineyards outside Manchester, N.H., where grower and winemaker Bob Dabrowski specializes in cold-hardy hybrids. (“We do not use foreign grapes!” his website proclaims, though he does bottle Chardonnay, Riesling and Cabernet Sauvignon.)

            A chat and vineyard tour, though, made clear that the hybrids are truly where Bob’s heart is. He was also nice enough to dip into his basement bank vault, featured on his corks and some of his labels, for this bottle of technically sold-out Diamond from his private stock.

            The Concord heritage comes through strongly. It’s grapey and plain, with sweetness well balanced with acids. I’m pretty much a vinifera snob, but I had no trouble finishing my half of the bottle.

            To pair with this American tradition, I made a chicken pot pie, tweaking it by cooking off a couple of ounces of sherry once the veggies were sautéed. Candia suggests spicy Asian food, always a good choice with this style of wine.

Mantonico di Bianco

            A big-shouldered white grape of Calabria, believed to have originated in Greece or Turkey. Sometimes spelled Montonico.

            This bottle is from Librandi, a champion of regional varietals, and they certainly take this one seriously. The grapes are fermented first in stainless steel and then in small oak barrels, then spend another eight months in small barrels of French Allier oak. This produces a wine with good aging potential for a white – Librandi suggests a window of three to five years after the vintage, and the bottle that the Potenza wine shop in D.C. ordered for me was discounted by the importer because it was even older than that. Normally it runs about $20.

            But it was in fine shape, and you can see why it inspires extravagant descriptions from the maker and from blogs like Jakob’s Bowl. I’ll just say that the yellow-fruit and citrus flavors were intense and complemented by the oak, and that the wine is worth saving for a special dinner.

            Librandi says that “it excels with sea bass, swordfish and dentex, even with the most complicated preparations.” Our Safeway being fresh out of dentex, we drank it with grilled salmon in an herbed cream sauce.

Malvasia di Candia Aromatica

            A rich expression of this variety of Malvasia grown on Madeira. According to technical notes from the maker, grape brandy is added to the juice after 48 hours in stainless steel tanks, “arresting fermentation at the desired degree of sweetness.” Then comes 15 years of aging in oak, with periodic transfers of the wine to lower, cooler barrels in the “lodge.”

            This painstaking process presumably accounts for the bottle's $35 price tag for 500 ml. But it is a treat, at least for those who enjoy oxidized madeiras and sherries.

            In the glass it’s the color of Midwestern coffee, and the 19 percent ABV is evident in the legs. The flavor, after applying the usual de-hyping factor, is as Blandy’s describes it: “complex dried fruits and wood, toffee and vanilla. Sweet, smooth, full bodied, complex, and a long finish of nuts and dark chocolate.”

            A good sipper if you’re trying to stay out of the cookies after dinner. Also a candidate to break out at the end of a small dinner party with cheese or nuts, or maybe even bread pudding with raisins and vanilla sauce.

Lagrein

            From looking at its opaque purple color, you wouldn’t guess that this wine comes from the Alpine foothills of far northern Italy. Alto Adige, a region better known for pinot grigio and similar crisp whites, is nearly the only place where Lagrein is found. When grown on heat-trapping floors of mountain valleys, it can produce wines that the New York Times’s Eric Asimov describes as “deliciously plummy, earthy and chewy, dark and full-bodied but not heavy, with a pronounced minerally edge.”

            That’s what he thought of the best bottles of the dozen he tasted for his column. Wish I’d had one of those instead of this one, which was flavorful but flabby. Without balance or the region’s famous minerality, the wine just wasn’t that interesting. Maybe some bottle age would have helped, but I doubt it.

            Food pairing: Guided by the memory of the only other Lagrein I’ve tasted, a superior bottle from Weingut Fritz Kupelweiser, I roasted a pork loin that had been smeared with a Dijon mustard-sour cherry paste and wrapped in very thin sheets of prosciutto. I think this is a good match – the cherry definitely found an echo in the wine – but I’d want to try it again with a less disappointing bottle.