Marangona
I had an exceptional and surprising wine experience I want to share. I recently attended a vertical tasting of wines near lake Garda in Lombardia. The featured producer was Marangona, a very small winery in Lugana led by a passionate winemaker, Alessandro Cutolo. We tasted 11 vintages of a single white grape called Trebbiano di Lugana (also called 'Turbiana') from 2015 – 2025.
To my surprise, Trebbiano di Lugana is genetically linked to one of central Italy’s noble grapes, Verdicchio from Le Marche. I consider Verdicchio one of Italy’s greats whites, capable of a range of expressions from aromatic (Bisci) to muscular (Bucci), to the sumptuous (Sartarelli) and age-worthy (Accadia). Uncovering a rare clone of Verdicchio living in northern Italy is incredibly intriguing, especially to a grape geek like me. Now, for the exceptional: Italy is quite literally packed with grapes. Over 500 are officially in production today, yet thousands inhabit the 20 regions. So, in little Lugana, concealed within a tourist trap in a region more known for cheerful rosato, Champagne-inspired bubbles and alpine Nebbiolo, this tiny winery, led by a tall and soft-spoken artist, is quietly producing world class whites from a grape few ever heard of! The experience that followed, as expressed through a decade of vintages, showed wines of restraint, severity, nuance and complexity.
The great wine experiences I’ve had almost always surprise before they elate. With Marangona, there seemed to be a surprise around every corner. The current vintage set the stage with freshness and the most delicate underripe yellow fruit, white flowers and touch of minerality. The palate was incredibly bone dry, like a perfect granny smith apple Nicolas Tesla treated with a current of electricity. As we proceeded backwards in time, the tasting took some twists and turns, revealing amazing aromas like petrol, wild fennel and Aleppo pepper. At one point the wines felt younger as we progressed into the older vintages! Had Alessandro conquered time travel? Great wines sometime go silent like a Russian submarine, only to burst later with intensity. Marangona were just like this. I found hints of other regions in the glass: minerality from Riesling (Mosel), backbone of Chenin Blanc (Loire), and the vertical expression of Savagnin (Jura). What brought them all together was this persistent mineral-infused acidity, begging for a food pairing to match the intensely dry finish. Alessandro suggested a simple frittata, which I agree, but also feel these wines are destined to cut cream and elevate complex shellfish preparations.
As I left this tasting, I wondered what other undiscovered whites might be out there in the vast and chaotic world of Italian wine. Who will be the next savant to emerge from obscurity to rock my notion of what is possible. I can’t wait to find out.
PR
