Brunellos Have More Fun

My favorite book as a child was The Secret Garden. My mother and I would read it every night and we would try out our best British accents and everything. I would completely escape into a different world of petticoats, wildflowers, ancient stone walls and ivy covered doors… I have a point, we will get there shortly.

On my last day in Terracina, Andrea brought me to a vineyard he said would be like no other vineyard I have ever seen and will ever see. We drove up into the Circeo mountains through Stone Valley to a town stopped in time some 50 years ago. Campo Soriano is only 11 km from the city center of Terracina but feels like an eternity away (they only got electricity about 20 years ago.) Here in this town is the vineyard. The Secret Vineyard. Or, rather, My Secret Vineyard. I would like to think.

Vines were growing around stones and along the curvature of the natural land. Large stones remained intact within the rows of vines. Evidence of midnight visits from roaming porcupines lay untouched. The earth was soft and bouncy almost, but rich due to the  constant working of the soil to maintain even distribution of water content throughout. Looming overhead all the while is the centerpiece of the vineyard; the largest stone in the entire valley, remaining from the ice age.

This magical place is where the moscato for Andrea’s passito (dessert wine) is grown. He lets the grapes dry and get toasty from the sun right on the vines before picking and pressing. Tasting these grapes as opposed to the fresh moscato the day before, the flavors have definitely evolved into something quite different. Where before it was fresh peach, now it was tangerine and almost burnt candied orange.

Along with the moscato are rows and rows of a local grape called buodo which is blended for it’s intensely deep color and strong tannins. And to my surprise, cabernet. Once again, used for blending. The cabernet was beautiful, like perfect blueberries. I never realized how blue cabernet grapes are.

The setting sun finally decided to peak through the clouds as we strolled through the long rows of buodo, tasting the grapes as we went along.  It had been confirmed. I could most definitely get lost for hours on end in these rows of vines and hidden coves amongst ice age stones and 75 year old vines. I’m sure Andrea does often as he walks row after row. Tending to his grapes.