Blanc dal Gigi – Or the Wine That Wasn’t Meant to Exist

There are many types of wine. There are those that everyone knows (the classic example is the Brut from Moët & Chandon) and have hundreds of thousands of reviews on Vivino. After the blockbusters come the wines that, although not mass-produced, have great popularity and still receive tens of thousands of reviews, a good example being Guidalberto from Tenuta San Guido.

Then there are the wines with thousands of reviews, those widely exported and representing a region beyond their borders, like the Friulano from Schiopetto (which we discussed in the post about the genealogy of Collio). And then there are the indie wines, like those from Dario Raccaro, which gather only hundreds of reviews.

And then there are the last ones, the wines that on Vivino “don’t have enough reviews.” Are they the rare fruit of a winery that produces very little wine? Are they part of a line that has been discontinued for years? Are they a bug in the database? Who are these ghosts?

Where to Find the Blanc Dal Gigi

One of them is the Blanc Dal Gigi from D’Osvaldo, a farm in Cormons. The name may not mean much to wine enthusiasts but will sound familiar to food lovers. In fact, the company mainly produces cured meats. And of excellent quality. Now, I can write about wine, but I’m not an expert in gastronomy; however, if I’m not mistaken, the peculiarity of their prosciutto, which is somewhat the company’s flagship product, is that it’s smoked with cherry wood and a specific mix of herbs. In short, a sort of “dosage” of smoking that makes them, as I’ve experienced firsthand, truly very good. They are also featured on the menu of La Subida, a local Michelin-starred restaurant.

So, D’Osvaldo in Cormons makes cured meats. And that’s how the two owners of Vollgut, a Viennese épicerie located in the neighborhood where I live, know them. The two, who over the years have built a truly charming shop and are not shy about carving out profit margins on the products sold (including the Crémant de Limoux Brut Rosé N.V. from Domaine B&B Bouché and also wines discovered at Selezione Italia), go to D’Osvaldo to purchase cured meats.

During their chat, it happens that the owner or his son refers to “our wine.” The two, who speak good Italian, are surprised: “What wine? The one from Cormons?”

“No, no,” says the owner, “Ours in the sense that we make it ourselves.”

“Oh. And can we taste this wine?”

“Certainly.”

The two owners, who tend to be enthusiastic as far as I’ve noticed, taste both the Friulano and the blend, the Blanc dal Gigi to be exact, and fall in love with it, bringing a few cases back to Vienna. I shop in Vollgut also for the D’Osvaldo guanciale, which is otherwise not easy to find either in Austria or elsewhere since the owner doesn’t sell retail (but if you find yourself in Cormons, go to Alimentari Tomadin and they’ll make you sandwiches with D’Osvaldo products), and one of the owners lets me taste the wines.

I like them without falling in love. The blend of Sauvignon and Friulano “tastes a lot like Collio,” as Jackie points out. They’re good, but I wouldn’t spend the €25 Vollgut charges. A few months ago, however, due to that nasty condition called nostalgia for Collio, I found myself in the shop, and I couldn’t resist the simple and recognizable label, so I bought it.

“You’re lucky,” one of the owners tells me, “this is one of the last bottles.”

“Oh, you’re not going to Cormons anymore?”

“We still go, but this wine can no longer be purchased. It doesn’t have all the necessary documents to be exported, so we no longer bring it.”

I secure the last bottle, hoping the wine doesn’t make me fall in love with it afterward: retrieving it seems extremely difficult.

Impressions on Blanc dal Gigi from D’Osvaldo

Tasted on 08/11/2024 paired with pasta and mussels.

• Color: Straw yellow with golden reflections.
• Aroma: Pineapple, tomato leaf, bell pepper, and parsley. On the nose, it’s fragrant, with a rounder touch reminiscent of a Pessac-Léognan.
• Taste: Broad-bodied but not dense, with a fruit concentration that isn’t exceptional but very charming thanks to its softness. In the mouth, slightly reductive and smoky notes emerge. The finish is surprisingly juicy, with a simple white peach pulp that enriches the sip. Excellent acidity, a hint of salinity, and a precise and savory flavor that gives the wine an elegant character, although it lacks a bit in grape quality to reach excellence.
• Pairing: Perfect with pasta and mussels, where it enhanced the spicy flavors of the chili pepper, adding a refreshing element to the dish.

I really liked the wine. It’s a splendid example of a Collio blend that doesn’t fall into anonymity like many unfortunate Collio Bianco wines but carves out its own identity. Round and rich, without losing—indeed, enhancing—the typical nuances of Collio. Perhaps, more than the classic Malvasia-Friulano-Ribolla blend, in Cormons they could experiment with the international-native combo. If all else fails, you can always eat a slice of prosciutto with it.