The Symphony of Cuprese

Nine years of our Cuprese, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi DOC Classico Superiore, narrated by Richard Vendrame between the chords of a symphony long twenty-six years who discovers the notes of one of the wines of Cantina Colonnara symbol.

A tasting backlinks that touches three decades of Verdichio Castles diJesi in notes of truffle oil and coffee. When you find yourself facing the portrait of a wine produced by a winery consists of 110 growers members, and with a production of over one million bottles, it would be natural, especially for a taster like me who prefers the so-called natural wines, stick your nose in cup so hesitant, almost skeptical. I'm beginning to swirl the wine in the glass, close my eyes, and do resigned begin to taste the Cuprese de la Colonnara, Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi in nine years that shrimp come with step up to the mid-80s.

He knocks on the nose with her dress still green and wrinkled leaving just a glimpse of his slender physique and nervous. It looks like a promising wine, uncertain in its effiuvi that recall now spumiglia now the tomato leaf winking at Sauvignon. A wine teenager, with some pimple on your face and commercial music in your iPod. Thin, young but with a certain character.

Play hide and seek; runs and calls you; seems to let grab and then run again. If it were a woman I would have cursed the risk of spending a blunder in the sms and phone calls to persuade her to go out together. Fortunately, it is "only" a wine that alternates evolutionary notes of pepper, hawthorn, iodo and spices with a hint more monotonous that does not give depth to a fragile body.

It sounds like a song by Leonard Cohen, perhaps "Famous blue raincot" so deep and melancholy. A wine that is reminiscent of the smell of tobacco from the old club, the lines drawn on the face and oxidative notes of old age, the salty air, the taste full, lively, fruity and persistent. Decadent but not boring.

Are you fascinated by its subject matter stylish, air vain, his eyes turned upward, and pride; nor was Liarn Callagher front of the microphone. What emerges instead is a wine mixture and discreet in his notes torbate with references to the Islay whiskey, quince, graphite and composure and lost with the passage of time that air blowhard britpop. There addentrianmo monumental wines, sweet-smelling liquid that tear a round of applause, excited and asking questions.

Still fresh and pulled without resorting to plastic surgery, at least in recent times. Remember the flint, the notes of cedar and menthol, it inigidisce on the back like a soldier at attention. Acid and vibrant with closure of the solos worthy of Jimi Hendrix.

An aristocratic wine, elegant and balanced. You talk about hitting in depth with its rich taste and smell. Note pastry with creme brulee bully and inviting, as it evolves with notes of honey camevale releasing a perfume as if they were confetti. It remains imprisoned on the tongue with predominant mineral. Immortal as "Heros" by David Bowie, the White Duke.

Remember sharply swivels licorice remain imprisoned in a depth less pop than the last. Fosse would put a song to remember "Show must go on" by Queen, with that sound more linear and less crackling. Seize the thickness, the intimacy and integrity of a wine with more than twenty years on his shoulders but did not find a more lively glow. Underwear.

Still fresh with scents that are walking around with rose water and delicate white flowers without wanting to get so bossy. A fine wine, graceful, never rude or crass; only a slight net matrix little dirty smell it while its sound on the tongue still has hints of fine establishment. "Wild World" by Cat Stevens describes it perfectly.

Majestic wine. Moving. Among the most beautiful memories of taster who can count. Featuring acidity vertical aiming at the sky again. It seems infinite and unattainable for its handsome beauty. Hits you with the hydrocarbon, the notes of truffle, coffee and alcohol and decided influence. When I heard for the first time "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd was moved in the same way ... I think that during the harvest, the wall still divided Berlin.

After tasting these I placed the cup on the table. I looked at the label of wines. I contemplated on the strength of Verdicchio and the ability of a wine cellar with a production of one million bottles. No argument about the naturalness, the quantities of sulfur, using selected yeasts or filtration. But I'm excited listening to the wine without bias, but I do not want to open too debated issues.

[R. Vendrame, Colored Stones - ground roots hands March-June 2013]