Generational change has undoubtedly played a role. Many of the pioneers whose wines changed the Langhe landscape in the ’90s are sadly no longer with us or have handed the baton to their children. Reassuringly, most heirs have found ways to respect their parents’ legacy while experimenting with new (and old) techniques.

In cellars where the (somewhat unfairly) maligned rotary fermenters were introduced last century, like at Paolo Scavino, they are being used to brilliant effect for very slow, gentle extraction. Cappello sommerso, an old technique involving skins and seeds submerged in fermenting must, is now often carried out with contemporary tools, like metal mesh in stainless steel tanks (another Scavino innovation) rather than oak planks in wooden casks. While Slavonian botti (large oak barrels) and oak or cement fermenters are back in a big way – having largely replaced barriques and, to a lesser extent, stainless steel – everything is infinitely cleaner than was feasible two generations ago.

Meanwhile, there has been an influx of new producers, many of whom might have been unable to get a toehold but for the warming of sites previously deemed unsuitable for Nebbiolo. This report features many new(ish) names like Massimo Rattalino, Mura Mura and Simone Scaletta. The supremacy of MGA (single-site) bottlings has in some ways made it easier for lesser-known producers to market their wines as certain MGAs (Cannubi, Monvigliero or Rabajà) have become powerful brand names. Of course, the skyrocketing price of land to well over a million euros per hectare for the best sites is a major barrier to entry, but at least rising bottle prices have made the economics somewhat more attractive. MGA names have, however, elevated some sites that otherwise lack cachet, something to watch out for particularly in large Monforte MGAs like Bussia or Bricco San Pietro.

I would argue that though the retreat of maximalist modernism in the region is more obvious, the rigidity of the so-called ‘traditionalists’ has been quietly relaxed too, in favour of a style Gaia Gaja once referred to as ‘post-modern’. Though I believe she meant mainly to imply that the previous decades’ modernist/traditionalist debate was now over, I find the term especially apt for several reasons. First is the new Langhe’s very postmodern penchant for borrowing whatever techniques and tools fit the job. For instance, the use of whole bunches – almost total anathema until a few years ago, with notable exceptions like G.B. Burlotto – is increasingly widespread, both for the herbal savouriness stems can add, but sometimes for their alcohol absorption (though they also raise pH, jeopardising longevity). Lees stirring for smoother mouthfeel has also become more ubiquitous.

The second link to postmodernism and one I personally find gratifying is the emphasis on pleasure. In conversations with both Gaia Gaja and Elena Mascarello (of Giuseppe Mascarello), the new generation at two of the most illustrious wineries in the Langhe, it was noted that historically ‘pleasure’ has almost been perceived as a lack of seriousness. Mascarello noted the rapidity with which the light, pleasurable 2018s had been consumed, and questioned why that should be undervalued. Meanwhile Gaja described the ‘juiciness’ of 2020, a term she admitted sounded ‘unserious’ but suggested is representative of how wines are being successfully made today.

En primeur has consequently started to play a greater role in the way these wines are marketed and sold internationally. The barrel samples of yesteryear were arguably poor indicators of future quality, some so mute and inflexibly structured that tasting was like talking to a brick wall, others so oak laden and inky that they would be almost unrecognisable once the colour had dropped out after a few years in bottle. Many barrel samples today have the grace and polish of finished wines – their fruit and tannins want a little settling down, but they seem perfectly able to give a good account of how they will taste once bottled, plus their future evolution.

There is substantial variation between vintages: 2019 is notably sterner than 2020, with the latter especially joyous and effusive currently. This view is admittedly biased by the fact that most of the 2019s tasted were Baroli while the 2020s were Barbareschi, which were still softer and lighter on average. The much-feted 2019 Barolo will be covered in greater detail in a separate article.

2020, being warmer and earlier ripening, is lighter in tannins but more intense in fragrance and fruit expression, though not quite so light and loose as the high-volume, humid 2018. Though there is certainly an uncomfortable question in the region about the longevity of vintages that don’t have Nebbiolo’s trademark tannic structure, the current emphasis on retaining acidity through viticulture reassures me. Given how well vintages with elevated acidity (2008, 2004) have held together regardless of their tannin levels, I feel confident that 2020, despite its early loveliness, is also one for the cellar that will provide pleasure for years to come.

Tasting notes and scores from Club Oenologique’s Barolo and Barbaresco Report 2023 (featuring only those wines scoring 90 points and above) are available to all registered users of The Collection, the online home of our premium wine and spirits content. To register for free, click here.