Serragghia Fanino Rosso 2020
Grapes: Pignatello and Catarratto (Co-Ferment)
The Look: Pale ruby
On the nose: Candied cranberries. The fruit character is very “gummy candy” and bright. Reminds me of lifesaver gummies. Earth, volcano, cigar box. Green apple + stem. Really intense and specific fig leaf, rosemary, and oregano. MOUSE.
On the palate: Unripe/wild strawberries, pop rocks, a touch of phenolic bitterness. Searing acid. No tannin. Watery finish. Finish is of green apple core / stem and is long and pleasant. Cream.
Price Point: 138 EUR / 1600 NOK at auction. Too expensive.
Terningkast: 5/6
You may have seen this wine on social media over the past 15 years. The medium of its appearance is often a (then cool—now hackneyed) picture with the bottles being held around the ears such that the arrows point in and the subject becomes cartoonish, as if to say “I drink wine, but I have fun too.” Or just “I’m an asshole”. I took a photo like this 5 years ago.
Beyond the iconic label, it’s also a beverage made to be drunk. And I suppose the question that has brought you here dear reader is “is it actually any good?”. And with a wine that has such a visual imprint and associations you may already have your own pre-conceptions—you may resent me a touch for even drinking this wine. “Who does he think he is opening up natural wine’s Opus One and writing a review?” Drinking this feels, in the words of Hooter’s immortal slogan, delightful tacky yet unrefined. A nesting doll of self-parody.
But I’m happy to report that the answer to the “is it actually any good?” question is a resounding yes, with some caveats. This wine could and should be used as a test for “are you able to tolerate mouse?” If you don’t know what mouse is, it’s a (non-dangerous) bacterial infection in a wine due to exposure to oxygen in the winemaking process, there’s more of it in “nautral wine” because you can kill it easily with modern winemaking techniques. There’s hundreds of ways to describe it, but tasters have seemed to congregate around: pouring off-date milk onto wet cardboard or a pet cage or something else that’s horrible and you don’t want to imagine right now. It’s retronasal, meaning that you won’t smell it until you taste a wine. There is a moderate level of it in every single bottle of wine I’ve ever opened from the producer Gabrio Bini, and it’s never enough to ruin the wine, or little enough to be undetectable or unpredictable. It’s the cloud moving over the sun on a mild day. The small gravel in the shoe. The popcorn kernel in your tooth. Not enough to make you stop what you’re doing, but annoying enough to inspire mild frustration.
However, if you pass the test and can tolerate a moderate amount of mouse, there’s an ocean of vibrancy, complexity, and deliciousness to be found at a bottom of a glass of Serraghia Rosso. This wine would be stunning without it, and it’s so intense and specific in terms of terroir that it’s stunning with it. This delivers on the experience that wine drinkers dream of when they open a bottle, yet so rarely receive. You are transported to the island of Pantelleria with a garden full of herbs, olives and capers, sea water to bathe in, agrodolce, and a plate full of fresh red fruits. You walk over volcanic earth, and drink wines from amphoræ.
I’ve never even been to Pantelleria, and drinking this has already ruined it for me. It has given me the arrogance (or liquid courage) to feel like I understand what it is like there to such a degree that I could only be disappointed by the reality. This wine is a place in and of itself. I can imagine what it tastes like after drinking it—and in anticipation of drinking it, 2 years since I last tasted it. And my imagination is right and delivered upon every time. It is wild, yet precise. The concentration of specific flavors is remarkable. For instance: it’s not just “herby” or “spicy”, it delivers the uncanny exact smell of wild rosemary in Sicily. This specificity is special and very rare in the wine world—collectors spend a small fortune chasing it.
So if you can’t tolerate mouse, I understand, but this is one of the few wines that I’d say you’d be missing out on due to that intolerance. It is that good.
