64 wines in the afternoon and another 50 waiting for us this morning—that’s how we decided to spend our weekend. A slow awakening, a half-hearted attempt at breakfast, and then off on the scooter toward Monteverde.
A sleepy arrival. Two trays of cornetti on the table. A mouth still filled with the taste of coffee (I know—you shouldn’t drink coffee before tasting wine, but the alternative was risking falling asleep with my head on the table…). And then the list lying there, mercilessly reminding you: “there are still about fifty to go…”
We begin with sparkling wines, then move to rosés. After that, a generous “page” of whites. A bit of Primitivo, and then straight into Aglianico as if there were no tomorrow.
When you tell friends about things like this—about diving into a wine tasting early in the morning—they think you’re crazy.
But the crazy ones are actually them: those who “can’t” or who simply haven’t yet understood the value of a session like this. During my sommelier course, over two years, I probably tasted 200–300 wines—one for each type. Just this week, between Radici del Sud and this tasting for the Vinodabere.it guide dedicated to Basilicata, I tasted about the same number of wines—but not one per type.
Instead, it was a close comparison between vintages, fruit expressions, colors, and tannins. A comparison between different opinions, but above all the opportunity to evaluate the same grape variety across multiple expressions, evolutions, vintages, territories, and wineries.
Not “n wines for n grape varieties”, but “n wines of the same grape variety.”
An endless opportunity to **understand, grow, and keep discovering the differences between what succeeds—and what doesn’t—in the glass.
Giving a “95/100” to a wine under these conditions becomes easier.
It’s like having to find a color photograph among many black-and-white ones.
All of this happens in the pleasant and inclusive atmosphere of the vinodabere.it crew, led by Maurizio Valeriani—a group made up of “professional friends”, ready to move seamlessly between a strict judgment and a good laugh. Ready to share the enthusiasm for a surprising wine, just as much as a friendly debate over those wines capable of dividing opinions.
It’s wonderful to start a day like this. And just as wonderful to end it in front of a plate of carbonara, talking about anything but wine. It was also great to share the day with the first “official” commitment of my son Federico, who surprisingly held his ground through two days filled with tannins.
Great Basilicata. Or rather Lucania, which I like even more. A small but meaningful journey through a land that, during recent visits, has proven itself easy to appreciate—and even easier to love. And like every journey, when shared with friends and loved ones, it becomes worth even more.
