Caravaglio Palmento Di Salina Rosso Non Rosso 2022
Grapes: Nerello Cappuccio, Sangiovese
Looks: A dazzling ruby.
On the nose: Immediate musk, with a bit of sulfur, on the reductive side. Blows over to reveal cranberries and strawberries. After an hour open, the wine demurred to have almost no musk and much more raspberry.
On the palate: Bright cranberry and strawberry. High acid with a touch of bitterness and a round mouthfeel. Finish is watery, but long — which I wish I could find in more wines.
Price Point: 23 EUR / 299 NOK
Terningkast: 4/6
I really enjoy wines that have this type of body, which is hard to explain, but I will give it a go: It reminds me of some of the better roses of Tavel in Southern France where you get the same mouth-coating, yet almost watery texture. It fills up your mouth and rather than dry it out, it quenches the dryness. I managed to briefly convince myself I was hydrating while drinking it.
From what I’ve tasted, Caravaglio’s Palmento Di Salina Rosso Non Rosso is relatively typical of rosato from Salina (Sicily), and those that I’ve enjoyed in the past have all been delicious in their own right. The best examples of the style have more herbs (thyme and rosemary) and a taste of salt. But the more straight-forward presentation in Caravaglio’s rosato makes it a great candidate for a daily driver. All of the vines in this area are grown on basalt, as the Aeolian islands themselves were the product of lava seeping out from the deep ocean. There are two active volcanoes in the chain of islands, but none on Salina. However, some of the winegrower’s parcels are on Vulcano, where there is an active volcano, as you would likely hazard to guess by the name.
Coincidentally, I recently finished the novel The Leopard by Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampadusa. It also takes place in Sicily and documents the slow decline of the Salina family and the unification of modern Italy. It’s a great catalog of the Sicilian humors. One passage that stuck out in particular was:
“The Sicilians never want to improve for the simple reason that they think themselves perfect, their vanity is stronger than their misery, every invasion by outsiders, whether so by origin, or if Sicilian, by independence of spirit, upsets their illusion of achieved perfection, risks disturbing their satisfied waiting for nothing”
In practice Sicilians are obviously more nuanced than this stereotyping, but I will admit that my heart pang as I read that passage. It felt like a forbidden kernel of wisdom about myself that I would never care to self-analyse or admit—a proper Sicilian. Regardless, this quote also rings true about many of Sicily’s entry-level wines. Purists may be taken aback by their faults, but they really are generally much better than they are flawed. While one might wish that the winemaker would analyze the faults (the wave of reduction here) and take the steps to correct them over time, to do so would simply by un-Sicilian, atleast as Lampadusa sees it.
This wine was wild and delicious, and while not quite great, it remains a delightful weeknight wine. We enjoyed it alongside bowls of trout, rice, mushrooms, and spinach.
