Reclaiming viticultural heritage in the Valle d’Itria
BY STEPHANIE CUADRA
Harvest is an inter-generational tradition in the Valle d’Itria.
Few would know it, but Apulian wine has a color bias problem. While Puglia has built a global reputation as one of Italy’s leading wine-growing regions (second by production volume only to the Veneto) most notably for its signature reds, a legacy of ancient white grape viniculture is fighting to survive at the region’s core. Looking inland, in fact, and upward at heights of 400 m, one finds the Valle d’Itria, a calcareous plateau whose unique topographic features conspicuously break away from the surrounding heel of the boot. To move toward a real understanding of the diversity of wines produced in Puglia today, it is critical that the Valle d’Itria be given its due place as a distinct territory within the broader sub-peninsula.
But the Valle d’Itria is not merely different. As a winemaking zone in its own right, this area of overlapping provinces (Bari, Brindisi and Taranto) is the antithesis of what most would consider to be quintessentially pugliese. In an arid stretch of southern Italy known for intensely red wines of moderate acidity and high alcohol content, those variables manage to invert themselves here as black grapes struggle to ripen at best. Instead, autochthonous and traditional white varieties are the key protagonists of this windy limestone highland, where the hottest summer days barely brush up against the 30º Celsius mark. Altitude, abundant sunshine and criss-crossing marine currents from the Adriatic and Ionian Seas are intrinsic to the freshness and finesse of locally grown fruit.
And in this context of minuscule, manually tended ‘handkerchief’ holdings of vines, the family farm remains the basic unit of a tightly knit social framework which lives on to this day, albeit in a precarious state. Where farm succession from one generation to the next was once taken for granted in the Valle d’Itria, such fluidity has become increasingly rare and signs of discontinuity abound. Locals repeatedly lament the sight of an altered landscape with less than 1,500 ha currently under vine—in alarming contrast to the 19,000 ha of vineyard area on record in this valley of trulli stone dwellingsduring the first half of the 20th century.
Having once served as a major supplier to external bulk markets, including that of Piedmont’s vermouth industry, legions of Valle d’Itria grape farmers would learn the hard way about the pitfalls of exporting essentially denatured and anonymous goods to third-party buyers in faraway places. The concept of brand identity, be that territorial or individual, clearly served no purpose in that contractual marketplace. Vine pull schemes and demographic shifts combined with a marginal focus on quality only further facilitated the ultimate collapse of the local viticultural economy.
If the scenario sounds bleak, optimism about the recognition to come for the Valle d’Itria as one of Italy’s great historic white wine regions is actually warranted on three important counts: firstly, an unprecedented and swelling interest in rare and indigenous wine grapes, especially in those that risk extinction, which leads to the second point, namely the advances in research and modern ampelography, by which DNA profiling and genetic mapping attribute newfound relevance even to ‘minor’ grape cultivars such as Minutolo and Maresco, as underscored by the efforts of the Basile Caramia agricultural research institute in Locorotondo; and, finally, the promising evolution of the eno-tourism sector, whereby localized encounters enable experiential learning, lasting inter-personal ties and genuine ambassadorship. Though this is only a preamble to further and deeper discussions to follow, it is heartening to see progress well underway on so many decisive fronts, thanks to which this ancient land of vines is ready to bear its finest fruit yet.☐
