Italy – Everything should be coming up roses for Soave. The wines, historically among Italy’s best whites, have never been better.

Yet a debate over whether to use a new designation, Superiore DOCG, threatens to spoil the renaissance of a region that has finally recovered from a long spell as a source of underwhelming wine.

Ironically, DOCG status – Italy’s top wine category – is set aside for the country’s best wines. But a fight over geography has left some of Soave’s best winemakers boycotting the Superiore mark.

Historically, Soave’s central Classico zone produced the best wines, but “very few Classico producers are using the DOCG,” says Stefano Inama, a prominent small grower.

Only about 1 percent of wines in the Classico zone – 150,000 bottles out of an annual production of about 15 million – are labeled Superiore. Most are produced by large cooperatives, which account for 80 percent of the region’s production. The region’s best wines are frequently designated as Soave Classico, a less prestigious category.

Soave, a picturesque village complete with storybook castle and crenellated walls, lies just north of Verona in Italy’s Veneto region. Its Classico zone encompasses about 4,200 acres over a series of volcanic hills, about 25 percent of the total area. The indigenous Garganega grape forms Soave’s core. Sometimes it’s blended with Trebbiano di Soave; locals are quick to point out that grape is different from popular Trebbiano Toscano, which they believe makes vapid wine, and which has been banned from the Soave region.

Certainly this isn’t the first time wine designations have become a sore point in Italy. In the 1970s, the best wines from Chianti shunned that famous name and were sold as vino de tavola, the country’s lowliest wine category. Even today, Angelo Gaja, one of Italy’s most famous producers, sometimes uses the less-exalted Langhe designation for his best wines instead of the prestigious Barbaresco.

But Soave’s regulations are confusing even to experts. The wines are stratified into three broad categories. Soave, which applies to lesser wines from the region’s plains, remains at the base. In the middle is Soave Classico, which applies to wines from its hilly central area, plus a new DOC, Soave Colli Scaligeri, for wines from hillsides outside the Classico zone. The newly minted Superiore mark, established for the 2002 vintage, sits at the top.

Here’s the rub: Regulations allow any wine from hillsides – not just those in the Classico zone – to become Superiore if it meets tougher analytical standards: higher minimum alcohol, lower yields and so on. Classico wines meeting the standards can say both Classico and Superiore. That has incensed traditional Classico producers, who are unhappy to be sharing the perch with others, especially cooperatives. Inama calls Superiore “a marketing tool,” not a quality measure.

“If it applied only to wines from the Classico zone, I would join,” he says.

Wine drinkers are faced with this paradox: Many of the best Soaves aren’t labeled as the best. It seems to defeat Superiore’s very purpose.

This glitch comes at a particularly unfortunate time for Soave. Historically known for growing Italy’s most famous white wine, the region became the victim of its own success in the 1970s as industrial producers shipped tanker trucks of insipid wine made from flatland vineyards, literally diluting the wines from the prized Classico hillsides.

But the past decade has witnessed a return to glory in Soave, as small quality-minded producers embraced modern high-end winemaking.

“Ten years ago, you could count the number of top-notch producers on the fingers of one hand,” says Patricia Guy, an American living in Verona and an expert on Italian wine. “Now, there are scores of small growers making distinctive wines.”

Even so, enthusiasm for Soave remains spotty. Mark Middlebrook, Italian buyer at Paul Marcus Wine in Oakland, says the store usually stocks only one or two out of about 30 Italian whites. “Soave is just not that popular,” he says. “Other Italian whites are more exciting.”

But Soave moves well at Prima Vini Restaurant in Walnut Creek, according to wine director John Rittmaster. “All Italian whites are recovering from a poor image problem,” he adds. “Soave is selling as well as any of them, except, of course, for Pinot Grigio.”

Good Soave has a unique flavor that, according to Giovanni Ponchia, enologist for the Consorzio Tutela Vini Soave, the region’s wine trade organization, comes from the area’s volcanic soils. The hillside areas are composed of lava, like the area around Vesuvius in Campania, which may explain a similarity to some Campanian whites.

As part of Soave’s resurrection, the trade group undertook a Linnaean effort to categorize vineyards, identifying the best 51 sites to use on labels. That only complicated the problem. Made-up names also abound, and almost no one outside the region can discern a prized vineyard site, such as FroscÀ, from a brand name. Aldo Lorenzoni, the consorzio president, has vowed to clarify things.

But that’s not where the confusion ends. While Soave’s most popular style is fresh and vibrant, some producers now favor fermenting and aging wine in barrels, or even using the appassimento method that harnesses partially dried grapes, which is used for the region’s other DOCG, the sweet wine Recioto di Soave. Sometimes the differences are mentioned on the back label, sometimes not.

So while most Soave should be consumed within a year or two, some examples from top producers and sites, such as Gini’s from the FroscÀ vineyard or Coffele’s from Ca’ Visco, evolve beautifully for up to a decade.

How to sort this out? Consider the explanation from Classico producer Graziano PrÀ about why he spurned a Superiore classification.

“Mi chiamo PrÀ” – my name is PrÀ – he says. “That’s the only guarantee a customer needs.”

The take-home message is no different than buying Burgundy. Learn your favorite producer’s name and leave the exalted Superiore neckband to the bureaucrats.

Soave worth seeking

2008 Gini Soave Classico ($20) You can’t go wrong with this wine from Gini, one of Soave’s best producers. Slightly floral and nutty, it’s more minerally than fruity, with uplifting acidity. And keep an eye out for the single-vineyard 2008 La Frosca when it arrives. (Importer: Marc de Grazia/Estate Wines)

2008 Pieropan Soave Classico ($17) Pieropan is another of Soave’s excellent producers. They blend a small amount of Trebbiano di Soave with Garganega to achieve this angular mineral-infused wine. Its laser-like finish amplifies its flavors and charm. (Importer: Empson USA)

2007 PrÀ Soave Classico Staforte ($22) Not a single vineyard wine, Staforte is a selection that undergoes extended lees aging and stirring. An unusual richness and creaminess – an almost brioche-like yeastiness – complements its underlying minerality. (Importer: Vinifera Imports)

This article appeared on page K – 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle on Sunday, October 25, 2009

Taurasi, Campania’s best wine, has a powerful allure. Years ago, I spotted one on the shelf of a simple seafood trattoria outside of Naples, where instead of a wine list the choices were arrayed on a shelf. I asked for this sturdy red even though we had ordered grilled langoustine. The waiter brought it to the table along with another bottle. He handed over the Taurasi, then said: Da bere domani con carne – “drink it tomorrow with a steak.”

Without asking, he opened the second bottle, a Greco di Tufo, a local white wine. This is what you drink with langoustine, he all but commanded.

Most people think of northeast Italy – areas like Friuli – for Italian white wines. But Campania, far to the south and well known for red wines like Aglianico, has two top-quality appellations, or DOCGs, for dry white wines, more than any other region in Italy. Excellent white wine coming from south Italy surprises most consumers since southern climes are usually too hot to produce white wines with the requisite acidity to keep them lively. But Campania’s unique geology explains why its white wines are so exciting. Mountainous topography means that vineyards have been planted at higher elevations, where cooler temperatures allow grapes to ripen without losing acidity. Couple that with the region’s volcanic soil and you have the potential for stunning white wines.

Although Campania produces more white wine than red wine – the production of the two largest producers, Mastroberardino and Feudi di San Gregorio, is about 75 percent white – the focus of the press and consumers until recently has been on its ageworthy reds, such as Taurasi, the region’s only DOCG for red, and others made from the Aglianico grape.

It has become “the most important region in Italyfor making serious wine,” says Riccardo Cotarella, one of Italy’s foremost enologists and a consultant to several Campanian wineries, including Feudi di San Gregorio. Although he was speaking primarily of the red wine, he thinks that the region, formerly known for “chestnuts, potatoes and humble whites,” is ready for production of upscale, world-class white wines as well.

Greco Bianco and Fiano are the grapes responsible for Campania’s two DOCGs for white wine, Greco di Tufo and Fiano di Avellino, respectively. Both trace their origins to the Greeks, who brought them when they settled this part of Italy in the seventh century B.C. The other two major white grapes in the region are Coda di Volpe (literally “tail of the fox,” because of the shape of the clusters) and Falanghina, an aromatic variety whose popularity is skyrocketing. (See “Buying guide,” this page.)

Greco and Coda di Volpe, like Fiano, do well in the volcanic soil in the mountainous terrain of Avellino, while Falanghina thrives in the towns of Sannio and Sant’ Agata de’ Goti in the neighboring province of Benevento.

Other white varieties, such as Pallagrello Bianco, are starting to appear on the radar screen, not surprising since there are hundreds of varieties native to this region, where wine has been made for 9,000 years. The wine made from Pallagrello has a wild character that could get out of hand if not vinified carefully. Good natural acidity tends to balance its viscous nature. Produced by only four or five wineries, it has limited availability in the United States, but so did Falanghina until about 20 years ago.

Local industry expands

After centuries of producing mostly rustic bottlings – plus the occasional compelling Taurasi – that were mostly consumed locally, Campania’s wine industry surged in the 1980s, expanding from a single major producer, Mastroberardino, to more than 100 wineries today. This growth resulted from a general decrease in poverty in the region, more widespread exposure from increased tourism to the Amalfi Coast, Pompeii and Naples, money from the European Union finally finding its way to wineries, and resurgence in interest in local grapes by the Italians themselves, according to Tom Maresca, a leading American authority on Italian wines. “The Italians discovered great resources that had always been there,” he says.

Importers specializing in Italian wines, such as Palm Bay International, Winebow and Vias Imports, saw a great opportunity for growth – and greater profits – for these wines compared to the more well-known ones from northern Italy, according to Jane Kettlewell, a public-relations executive who has worked for several Italian wine importers. They were aided, she adds, by the efforts of the Italian Trade Commission, which turned its attention to southern Italian wines.

The wines got a further push as sommeliers and wine buyers around the globe began discovering them and introducing them to customers. “Some customers order Pinot Grigio,” says Matteo Scaccabarozzi, sommelier and manager at London’s Alloro in Mayfair, “but I direct them to Fiano or Falanghina instead.”

Jeannie Rogers, wine buyer at Il Capriccio in Waltham, outside Boston, finds that “these wines are especially popular in the summertime when diners are choosing lighter fare.” Rogers’ theory: Customers are introduced to these wines during visits to the region and order them when they return home.

But the country’s leading booster for wines from Campania may be Shelley Lindgren, wine director at A16 in San Francisco. She has 25 selections of Fiano, Greco and Falanghina on her wine list and two Pallagrello Biancos, and is always looking for more. More and more small producers who previously sold their production to the larger wineries have started to bottle and export the wines themselves, as the region receives international acclaim. “But it’s still a big bridge to cross to get wines from small producers to market,” Lindgren laments.

Lindgren’s evangelism for southern Italian wines continues to resonate through the Bay Area. “These wines definitely sell,” says Mark Middlebrook, wine buyer at Paul Marcus Wines in Oakland. “I’ve seen a steady increase in their sales over the seven years I’ve been here.”

Major players

Though smaller producers have a growing U.S. presence, most consumers’ first exposure to Campanian whites comes from the so-called big three, who have given them name recognition and cachet: Mastroberardino, Terredora di Paolo and Feudi di San Gregorio. Mastroberardino, founded in 1878, is credited with resurrecting the focus on Campania’s native grapes – always eschewing international varieties – and until as recently as the early 1980s, was essentially the region’s only significant winery known internationally. The winery went so far as to analyze DNA from grape seeds buried in Pompeii in an effort to replant, cultivate and eventually make wine from the varieties growing at the time of Mount Vesuvius’ eruption two millennia ago. The research confirms the belief that Greco, Fiano and Falanghina were grown in the region at that time.

As is often the case with wine families, a dispute arose among the members and brothers Antonio and Walter went their separate ways in 1993. Older brother Antonio kept the name, Mastroberardino, the winery and a few vineyards. Walter took the bulk of the vineyards because they belonged to his wife’s family, and established a new winery, Terredora di Paolo, in a neighboring village.

Since the split, Mastroberardino has purchased more vineyards, established contracts with local growers and now produces about 200,000 cases of wine a year. Terredora produces about half as much, but is far less reliant on growers, since its vineyards supply 90 percent of its grapes.

The third major producer, Feudi di San Gregorio, founded in the mid-1980s, was able to establish a thriving business as the Mastroberardino brothers were distracted by their internecine feuding. It is now the leading producer, by volume, with an annual production of 250,000 cases. Its wines are the most modern of the three since they have the greatest emphasis on new oak, especially noticeable in their reds. (See “Matters of style,” this page.)

Signature whites

With the whites, the choices seem to be whether to blend Fiano and Greco and bottle under the more liberal IGT regulations or blend Falanghina with Coda di Volpe into a wine called Lacryma Christi (literally “tears of Christ”). An occasional producer ferments Fiano on the skins, but unlike in northern Italy and Sicily, Chardonnay is nowhere to be found. While many of more modern-style reds show obvious oak flavors when young, it’s the rare white that conveys obvious oak influence.

These whites do not have allure of Taurasi or Supertuscans yet, but they might as more people taste them. It wouldn’t be the first time that demand for Italian whites has enticed high-quality small producers to grab a piece of the action. Lindgren sums it up. “People think Pinot Grigio is Italy’s white wine. But these are the noble whites of Italy.”

Buying guide

The white wines from Campania, the region of Italy surrounding Naples and its beautiful bay, pair exquisitely with seafood.

Greco di Tufo

Greco, an aromatic white with earthy nuances and bracing acidity, has a firm edge that reflects the volcanic soil where it’s grown. Sometimes shy when young, it gains considerable complexity after two or three years in the bottle. It’s a good foil for sushi or sashimi.

2007 Mastroberardino Nova Serra Greco di Tufo ($24) Earthy rather than floral, you can almost taste the volcanic soil in which the vines are planted. A clean citric edge in the finish of this firm wine adds to the appeal. Mastroberardino’s 2006 Greco – still available in stores – has more amplitude at this stage and reinforces the notion that Greco benefits from bottle aging. (Importer: Winebow)

2007 Benito Ferrara Greco di Tufo ($25) Ferrara, a very small producer with 7 acres of vineyards, produced a full-bodied Greco that is more forward – and ready to drink – than Mastroberardino’s at this stage. At first blush, it seems to have been oak aged, but it’s just the concentration of the stone-fruit flavors coming to the fore. Vibrant acidity keeps it together. (Importer: Estate Wines)

Fiano

As with most wines, the character of Fiano varies with where the grape is cultivated. In Avellino, known as Irpinia by the locals and Campania’s most important province for wine, it offers intriguing minerality that’s fuller, riper and softer than Greco. When planted nearer the coast, floral elements overshadow its minerality. But its signature characteristic – a subtle waxy texture – persists regardless of where it is grown. Its popularity is spreading; consumers are likely to see Fiano from other parts of southern Italy including Sicily. Try it with full-flavored seafood, such as grilled salmon.

2007 Terredora Di Paolo Fiano di Avellino ($30) Distinct notes of ripe melons coupled with hints of minerality complement the characteristic waxy texture. Bright acid is the counterweight in this marvelously complex wine that demonstrates why Fiano di Avellino has DOCG status. (Importer: Vias Imports)

2007 Mastroberardino Fiano di Avellino ($22) Tighter with more minerality, you see the more traditional hand of Mastroberardino at work. The waxy texture is still apparent in this firmer rendition of Fiano. Not an aperitif-style wine, its racy acidity cries for a splash of olive oil on grilled fish. (Importer: Winebow)

Falanghina

Virtually unknown as a fine wine grape until the early 1990s when Feudi di San Gregorio’s version appeared on the scene, now everyone seems to be making one. Falanghina is a deceptive wine. Its engaging floral character suggests sweetness, but it is not. High acidity imparts a complementary cutting edge, which keeps it lively and refreshing throughout a meal. Quite versatile, it stands up to spicy seafood preparations that use cilantro or Thai basil. It’s also a fine choice as an aperitif or with antipasto.

2007 Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina di Sannio ($17) Alluring aromas of white flowers are apparent and then hints of peaches and melons hit the palate and persist into the finish. The absence of oak flavors and uplifting acidity keeps it fresh and encourages another sip. The juxtaposition of the floral nose and cutting acid makes this an exciting wine and a good match for a wide range of foods. (Importer: Palm Bay International)

Coda di Volpe

The most difficult grape among these to transform into wine, Coda di Volpe, also known as Caprettone, has lower acidity and a tendency to oxidize when not handled correctly. Although the primary – when blended with Falanghina – or the sole grape for Campania’s best known white wine, Lacryma Christi del Vesuvio, it lacks the stature of Greco and Fiano. A fine choice for cioppino or another seafood stew.

2005 Mastroberardino Lacryma Christi del Vesuvio ($16) Made exclusively from Coda di Vopa; Mastroberardino shows that a talented producer can make fine wine from this temperamental grape. (It also makes a Lacryma Christi red from Piedirosso, another indigenous grape.) This midweight wine has a firm edge and almost tastes of lava, reflecting the volcanic soil of the region. An uplifting freshness in the finish makes it a fine choice for a hearty seafood pasta rather than a sipping aperitif. (Importer: Winebow)
– M.A.

Matters of style

Among red wines, there is the ongoing dichotomy in Campania as in other parts of Italy between traditional wines, such as Mastroberardino’s – although under Piero Mastroberardino, even this traditional firm is edging toward a more approachable style – and international or modern styles, like those from Feudi di San Gregorio and to a lesser extent, Terredora di Paolo.

Traditional Taurasi, similar to other great Italian red wines, such as Barolo, requires years of aging for its tannins to mellow and it grandeur to unfold.

The modern styles, sometimes named by Taurasi’s primary grape, Aglianico, usually have seen the inside of a small French oak barrel and a few even include Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot in the blend with the aim of making them more accessible when young.

Some producers opt to use the less restrictive IGT designation for their wines even though the grapes come from the DOCG Taurasi area because they are experimenting with shorter aging requirements and other techniques that fail to comply with DOCG regulations, but might make the wines more approachable.

This article appeared on page F – 1 of the San Francisco Chronicle on Friday, September 12, 2008

It was the first time I’ve been stopped by customs officials going into Italy. At Rome’s Leonardo di Vinci International Airport, the uniformed official looked up from his coffee and conversation with several co-workers as I pushed my luggage chart through the green — nothing to declare — channel.

“What’s in the box,” was my interpretation of his Italian as he pointed to the large brown cardboard carton next to my suitcase. “Vino di California,” I replied in broken Italian. He rolled his eyes and waved me through. I’m sure he was thinking to himself, “Crazy American bringing wine — California wine — into my country.”

But I had a plan. I had lugged a dozen bottles of California Syrah and reds from France’s northern Rhone Valley to compare to their Tuscan counterparts. I wanted to determine whether Tuscan Syrah was unique and stylistically different.

Syrah is making its first foray into Tuscany — causing a subtle shift in the signature of Super Tuscan wines, even appearing as a varietal wine. Super Tuscans originated in the late 1960s as a response to insipid wine made primarily from Sangiovese grapes, the mainstay of Chianti. Growers had failed to limit yields of Sangiovese and the resulting wines lacked concentration and flavor. To make matters worse, regulations required inclusion of white grapes like Trebbiano and Malvasia in the Chianti blend.

Breaking the rules

The Tuscan ego — the sense that they are the most cosmopolitan and innovative of all Italians — may explain why the Italian wine revolution started there. In what turned out to be a brilliant innovation, Piero Antinori jettisoned the traditional white grapes to buttress the indigenous Sangiovese with Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc, making the now legendary Super Tuscan Tignanello in the 1970s. (One of Antinori’s relatives, Mario Incisa della Rocchetta, is credited with making the first Super Tuscan, the 1968 Sassicaia, a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot.) Although Cabernet adds substance and structure, filling out the wine, its drawback is that even a little bit in the blend can dominate the final wine, muting the individuality of Sangiovese.

The driving force behind the creation of Super Tuscan wines — to make better wines without being constrained by antiquated regulations — explains why, even today, there is no accepted definition for this category. Nearly any upscale Tuscan red wine — except Chianti or Brunello — qualifies. (Some writers even include white wines.) Wines made exclusively from Sangiovese were included under the Super Tuscan umbrella as producers realized that viticultural practices to limit yields, such as high density planting and severe pruning, resulted in fabulous wines made solely from that grape.

Originally these pricey wines could only be sold under the lowliest category of Italian wine, vino da tavola (“table wine”), because they failed to conform to rigid Denominazione di Origine Controllata (DOC) regulations.

Embarrassed to have their best wines relegated as ordinary, the Italian wine authorities created a new rung on the regulatory ladder — Indicazione Geografica Tipica (analogous to France’s vin de pays) — with fewer rules to give winemakers far more flexibility. Though better and more expensive than the category would imply, many Super Tuscans are labeled IGT Toscana. Confusingly, inexpensive wines that fail to conform to DOC regulations also carry the IGT designation. For the consumer, the choice should be based on the producer’s name and reputation, not a set of initials.

Now Syrah has crept into Super Tuscans. It has the potential advantage of filling out the wine without obliterating the more delicate qualities imparted by Sangiovese. Unlike Cabernet Sauvignon’s potentially hard-edged tannins, those from Syrah — at least Syrah grown in Tuscany — meld well with Sangiovese. In Italy, Syrah is not unique to Tuscany, but is also popular in Sicily. (Some argue that the grape originated and took its name from the Sicilian town Syracuse.) The modern origins of Syrah in Tuscany are hard to pin down, but all of the current plantings come from Rhone Valley clones.

Tuscan soil suits Syrah

Lars Leicht, a spokesperson for Castello Banfi, one of the wineries to embrace the variety, believes Banfi introduced the grape to the region in the late 1970s as part of its extensive new plantings for the then-new Montalcino estate. Others credit Paolo di Marchi, ironically from Piedmont, a region the Tuscans view as parochial, when he planted and made a varietal wine from it on his estate in the Chianti Classico region. According to one producer, farmers planted Syrah in Tuscany in the 19th century for the same reason they planted Sangiovese: its ability to produce a large crop.

Syrah has an affinity for Tuscany’s dense clay soil, which brings out the grape’s perfume and produces smaller bunches of grapes with smaller berries, which translates into more concentrated wine. Maurizio Marmugi, Banfi’s viticulturist, believes that soil has a greater impact on wine made from Syrah compared with wine made from Sangiovese grapes.

The dry Tuscan summer — rarely does rain fall from June to September — is the chief impediment to growing Syrah because it stresses the vine and actually inhibits ripening. Irrigation is permitted, but is an expensive undertaking. In Tuscany, Syrah, similar to Merlot, ripens earlier than Sangiovese or Cabernet Sauvignon, which means it is safely in the winery before autumn rains can spoil the crop.

Although exact numbers are unavailable, Syrah clearly remains a minor player in the region. Banfi, with 150 acres of Syrah, has more of it planted than anyone in Tuscany, but it still represents only 7 percent of its total vineyards. (For comparison, 700 of its 2,000 acres are planted to Sangiovese.)

Beatrice Bonacossi, whose family owns Tenuta di Capezzana in Carmignano near Florence, is enthusiastic about Syrah, which her father planted as an experiment in the early 1990s. They replaced Cabernet Franc with Syrah in their Super Tuscan, Ghiaie della Furba, and are gradually increasing the amount in the blend, up to about 30 percent, because they believe it adds spice and complexity. In 2004, to honor the 1,200th anniversary of the winery, they made a 100 percent Syrah.

Although many other producers throughout Tuscany — Angelo Gaja in Maremma in the west, Antinori and Alessandro Luigi in Cortona in the east, Fontodi and Isole e Olena in Chianti Classico, and Banfi in the south near Montalcino — are experimenting with Syrah, not everyone has embraced it. Despite regulations that allow up to 25 percent of “other red varieties,” including Syrah, in the blend of many Tuscan wines, such as Chianti, few producers seem to be using Syrah in this manner. (The 2003 Da Vinci Chianti, a wine in Gallo’s portfolio, had 5 percent Syrah in the blend.)

Microclimate effects

Laura Bianchi, whose family owns Castello di Monsanto, one of the iconic properties in the Chianti Classico area, thinks it is very difficult to produce good Syrah where they are located. They have four rows of it, but are not happy with the results. The microclimate and soil just down the road at Paolo de Marchi’s estate, Isole e Olena, must be different because he was one of the early advocates of the variety. Alessandro Lunardi, the U.S. market director for Tenuta dell’Ornellaia, one of the most sought-after Super Tuscans, believes that Syrah has potential as a component of a blend, though they have no intention of using it.

Unlike the customs officials, the staff at the Enoteca le Logge in Montalcino viewed the contents of my cardboard carton — 2003 Sonoma Coast Vineyards Syrah and 2003 Beckmen Vineyards Santa Ynez Valley Syrah, plus a 2001 Guigal Cote Rotie and others — with great interest as they wrapped the bottles in aluminum foil for our blind tasting. Roberto Cipresso, winemaker at his estate in Montalcino, La Fiorita, and consultant to other estates in Montalcino and Argentina, and Yoshiaki Miyajima, a certified sommelier and hospitality manager at Castello Banfi, joined several other American wine writers and myself.

The tasting showed Tuscany’s potential for the varietal. Not as fruit-forward as California Syrah, they still had plummy flavors as expected from Syrah grown in warmer climates — as opposed to the peppery element often found in Syrah from the cooler climes, such as the northern Rhone — balanced by the lively acidity inherent in Italian wines. In the blends, Syrah added an alluring — and exotic — edge.

Don’t expect Tuscan winemakers to replace all their Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot with Syrah, but it’s likely we will be seeing more Syrah in the Super Tuscans and Chianti of the future.

Tasting notes

2004 Ca’Marcanda Promis ($42) Angelo Gaja uses Syrah — about one third of the blend — to fill out the Merlot and Sangiovese in this entry-level wine from his Maremma estate. It works because it adds fullness and richness without overwhelming the typical bright cherry flavors and earthy components that Sangiovese and Merlot deliver. It’s a wonderfully harmonious blend. Its supple tannins mean you can enjoy this wine without further aging.

2000 Tenuta di Capezzana Ghiaie della Furba ($45) Capezzana is perhaps the leading producer in Carmignano, an area just west of Florence where blending Sangiovese and Cabernet Sauvignon has been the tradition and was codified into the regulations when the DOC was established in 1975. Although this is not a DOC wine, this Super-Tuscan blend of 60 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, 30 percent Merlot and 10 percent Syrah has a more “international” signature than Capezzana’s Carmignano, but still retains Tuscan verve, earthiness and character. Its length and finesse — given its powerful fruit flavors — are remarkable.

2003 Castello Banfi Colvecchio Sant’Antimo Syrah ($36) Pipe irrigation spared Syrah, unlike Sangiovese, from the drought of the 2003 growing season and helps explain the balance in this wine. More plummy than peppery, as expected, it also delivers an alluring meaty component surrounded by supple tannins and uplifting acidity that clearly identifies its Tuscan origin. California winemakers should take note of this great Syrah.

2003 Castello Banfi Summus Sant’Antimo ($66) The rationale for using Syrah expressed by Paolo Benassi, one of Banfi’s winemakers, makes as much sense as all of the logical explanations: “In Tuscany we blend everything, we love to blend.” The proportion of Syrah in this Super Tuscan blend varies from 15 to 20 percent year to year. In 2003, it was 20 percent with the remainder split evenly between Cabernet Sauvignon and Sangiovese. This big — but beautifully balanced wine — conveys a multitude of thick black fruit flavors, cherry-like acidity and engaging hints of cocoa or chocolate.

2003 D’Alessandro Il Bosco Cortona Syrah ($50) This 100 percent Syrah from Cortona exemplifies the powerfully plummy side of that grape in part because of the vintage. In every prior year of Il Bosco that I have tasted, its finesse coupled with power has stood out. The exotic leathery component supported by moderate tannins and ripe dense black fruit flavors suggests it will evolve nicely. Approach it now only if you like boisterous wine.

— M.A.

This article appeared on page H – 4 of the San Francisco Chronicle on Friday, April 20, 2007