Finding Pleasure in Puglia

I strode out of the Brindisi airport, unprepared for the hedonistic yet down-to-earth (literally) whirlwind I was to be swept into. Granted, as far as brooms go, Italy’s is one I’m always eager to be swept up by—this time, the broom was sending me straight to Southern Italy’s Puglia. It may sound simplistic, but what this trip brought was pure pleasure. The regional wines ( Primitivos , Negroamaros , and Fianos , oh my!). The architecture. The winery cats and sun and soil and ancient amphitheaters and almost-as-ancient-cellars and endless bowls of Puglia’s regional pasta, orecchiette, and oh, yes, the wines. Don’t underestimate the art of living. Visiting Puglia is baptism by fire for Virgos like me, as time doesn’t exist there. One of our guides mentioned that “5 minutes” in Puglia means between 5 minutes and an hour. Initially discomfiting for me, but I yielded when I realized running 2 hours behind to lunch wasn’t a big deal, even to the winery we were late to. I drank. I ate. I softened. I stopped checking the time. A few practical things first: as I mentioned, Puglia is in Southern Italy, more specifically in the “heel” of Italy’s “boot” (and a bit of its Achilles). Running between the Adriatic meeting the Mediterranean and Ionian seas. Aka, the sea is all around. Last year, I was in Northern Italy, full of hills—but Puglia, not so much. It’s flat. It’s dry. “Apulia” loosely comes from “appluvial,” aka “without rain” (according to some sources). But don’t mistake a lack of rain for a lack of spirit. And this may be neither here nor there, but on my first night, at a delicious albeit delirious (I’d been traveling around 24 hours at that point) dinner, I was poured a deeply hued Rosé and instructed that this was the TRUE Puglia Rosé—any pale pinks were pretenders. I took it as a good sign—I’m a sucker for a darker Rosé ( see, my love of Tavel ). Maybe it's best to give you a ride-along to my trip. The first three days highlighted three separate DOCs: Primitivo di Manduria , Salice Santino , and Brindisi . The last day was a comparative tasting of the regions, neatly tying a bow on our time there. Although, in truth, that last night, in the spirit of pleasure-pursuing, the eight other journalists and I, along with some garrulous winemakers, kept the party going at a local bar. Shout out to Quanto Basta for making the coolest cocktails in Lecce. Aside from Quanto Basta, it was all the wines, all the time. I was primed for the first day: exploring the Primitivo di Manduria DOC. I expected to taste Primitivo, aka in the USA Zinfandel , now traced to Croatia as Crljenak Kaštelanski . I was ready for those over-under ripe notes. I was ready for those high alcohol levels. These wines sometimes veer into the Vino da Meditazione zone—a complex, heady wine to be sipped slowly and, yes, meditatively. The Primitivos in Manduria still ring up as refreshing, though, thanks to proximity to the sea, no doubt a helper when it comes to the grapes’ ability to accumulate sugars without losing acidity. On the first day, I also quickly realized the importance of capasones in the region. Capasones are terra cotta urns used to age wine. Beyond that use, they were common wedding gifts from one family to another, filled with wine OR olive oil, another important regional commodity. Some of capasones' upsides? They are easier to clean, the shape helps the skins move (intensifying flavor), and purify naturally as the wine settles. They keep oxygen out more than oak without imparting interfering flavors. Second-use and older oak were common in Puglia, as the focus was on bringing out Primitivo’s inherent deliciousness. That being said, some wineries I visited did have wines made with luxurious new oak, which, while it masked the grape, still made wines that the winemaker hoped to induce pleasure. Literally, everything in the region is targeted at happiness, whether found in gluggable wine or sippable Vino di Meditazione. Dinner that night brought an unexpected meeting with a bit of a wine idol, Dalila Gianfreda of Jorche Wines. She and her sister had made an impression on me in ye olde days of Zoom pan-doom-ic masterclasses—both for being women in wine (trust me, it's still mostly men) and for making really good wine. As Jorche wasn’t formally listed on the itinerary, I didn’t know she’d be there, but…yeah, sometimes life gives you lemons, and sometimes it gives you unexpected meetings with women you hold on wine pedestals. The next day in Puglia, we got to know the Salice Salentino DOP, where Negroamaro is the prominent berry. Oft offset by Malvasia Nera. This region was also where I registered how time is merely a suggestion, and TAKING time to enjoy is prioritized. We were to visit two wineries before the winery we’d be lunching at. We ran late at the first one, Cantina Cosimo Taurino, with good reason—they are one of the first wineries to champion Negroamaro, making it the region’s flagship grape. At our next stop, Cantina Cantele, they didn’t seem perturbed in the least by how late we were, yet acknowledged that in the interest of time, we wouldn’t take too long touring the winery and cut to the tasting. Then, we walked into the tasting room, the table set with multiple glasses; I was about to sit—“But first, we will have some metodo classico on the balcony!” proclaimed the winemaker. We spend the next 20-30 minutes relaxing outside with bubbles. Not a worry about the ticking clock at all. They were not even trying to sell us on the winery. Just giving us time to relax, enjoy the wine, and just BE. And funnily, despite being nearly two hours late to our next stop at Cantina de Falco, they didn’t seem to mind either, welcoming us to a hearty lunch replete with heartfelt cheers all around. I was catching on, and the quality and luscious nature of the wines didn’t hurt. On the third day, we dialed into the Brindisi DOP, the free-est formed of all the regions, at least in case of what they made of and tasted like, beginning at one of their coops, where we were treated to a little time in the fields—we were implored to taste the late harvest grapes, and omg, it took little imploring. Roving the vines, I had to stop myself from munching (in the name of saving some for wine!) as fresh, ripe grapes, warm in the sun, are my new love language. We romped the vineyards for a little before heading in for cellar tours and more formal tastings. The Brindisi DOP, in terms of reds, focuses on the Negroamaro/Malvasia Nera blend but also brought in a new-to-me grape, Susumaniello, which hit me sideways into Rosé bliss at lunch that day. It was also in Brindisi, as we toured at a couple of coops that made everything from VERY fine wine to wine to take home in a jug to glug, that the importance of wine as a consumable, enjoyable beverage, not (necessarily) to be thought about, resonated. The wines of Puglia are about pleasure, and sometimes, pleasure is in the simple but well-made things. Sometimes, it is in high-end things. But more usually in well-made wines expressing the grapes, the region, and the winemakers’ hearts. There’s a lot of heart in Puglia. And now, how about some tasting notes? This is in no way all the grandness I had in Puglia, but it is a sampling to get you going. Consorzio Produttori VIni Manduria AKA Primitivo The Rosato that got me going on how Puglia Rosato should show up—bold and deep! Full of rich fruit and with almost a caramel back note, utterly glug-worthy but with elegance. 2015 Masseria Cicella Pezza Della Chiesa Primitivo di Manduria Dolce Naturale Beware, I’m sprinkling in some sweeter treats here…macerated 40 days after drying on the vine—yielding a very natural 107g/L residual sugar. Jammmmm-tastic like raspberry jam, a lick of acidity, and almost a hint of white chocolate—with air, a little leather shows up. Utterly craveable. 2020 Masseria Borgo dei Trulli “Duna Mirante” Primitivo di Manduria From an area of sand and rock dunes betwixt sea and vineyards. WOW, it smells like kelp (in a great way) but also dried fruit and rosemary. Juicy with a super dry finish. Prunes and chocolate waltz through. I adore. 2018 Cantine Erario Sisma 18 Primitivo di Manduria There’s a subtle nose of red cherry and plum, with some balsamic and rose notes. On the palate, it's all plush. Prunes and light pepper and heady happiness without being heady, like a really great high. 2022 Cosimo Taurino Scaloti Negroamaro Salento Rosato Smells of fresh red berries, florals and minerals underneath, then on the palate, linens and sour fruits come in. Apparently, grapefruit is a standard tasting note on Negroamaro. Who knew? My appreciation of the grape only grows. Cantine Cantele Amativo Salento Primitivo Negroamaro 15% abv, 5 g/L residual sugar, and I’m not mad at it. The rich nose moves from black cherry into chocolate. Mouthfilling, heady, pleasantly char of the throat at the end, but as I said, I’m not mad about it. Finishes both gently but also spicy. Delish. Would have a second glass. 2019 Cantine de Falco Salice Salentino Falco Nero Rife with balsamic, licorice, and marine notes. There's a rustic but integrated tannic structure. Spicy and tart. So good with a long lunch. 2022 San Donaci Assina Susumaniello Rosato Omg I didn’t know the Susumaniello grape, but now I want to know more! Quaffable AF, this wine is, but not soft-spoken. It has a sweet-tart undertow while remaining mellow with an almost lactic finish. Yum yum yum. NV Cantina Due Palme Mille e Trenta Metodo Classico Toasty burnt marshmallow nose with a touch of almond. The palate brings in a bitter green and ripe tangerine element. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Want to read more from Ellen? Check out her recent articles: Black Cat Wines, Black Cat Vineyards Old World vs. New World: Pinot Grigio/Gris Santa Cruz: Something New Back to School Wines 101 For Everyone Who Texts Me: Trader Joe’s Picks, You’re Welcome You can also listen to Ellen's podcast , The Wine Situation here . Check out her recent transcripts of the Final Five questions: Wine Situation Final Five! 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