In the vineyards, there has been more conscious selection of clonal material or massal planting: for example, at Scavino, where years were spent whittling down the plantings at their Vigna Fantini to the most desirable specimens. In keeping with the preference for elegance, there has been an embrace of Rosé, an especially aromatic, pale-hued variety once thought to be a biotype of Nebbiolo that is still permitted for use in Barolo and Barbaresco (see Cogno’s glorious Vigna Elena).

The new style – embraced to varying degrees by both traditionalists and erstwhile modernists, since it is arguably the melding of their two styles – has, after all, required some investment. Though now free from the annual outlay for new carpentry that defined the modernist years, producers using techniques like whole bunch (or ‘non-destemmed’ bunches, as at Elvio Cogno) or whole berries have had to adjust fermentation practices (Piera Rinaldi of F. Rinaldi says that when they tried to experiment with whole berries, they ended up clogging their pump).

Temperature-controlled fermentations to maintain fresh aromatics have gained new importance with the recent run of warmer vintages. Alessandro Conterno (Aldo Conterno) ferments Gran Bussia in temperature-controlled stainless steel instead of wooden vats as previously; Roberto Conterno (Giacomo Conterno) uses temperature control for Cascina Francia, though not for Monfortino. Then there is the cost (and long wait time) for tight-grained Austrian oak vats, which remain popular, though they have not entirely displaced the more traditional Slavonian botti.

In keeping with the romantic notion that contemporary Langhe winemaking is a return to traditionalism and, to some degree, minimalism, nobody seems overly eager to trumpet changes. Most public-facing materials say little about, for example, the more widespread inclusion of whole bunches or stems (though unless somebody can explain why else there were several wines with notes of green peppercorn or, less appealingly, agave, I will continue to believe this is more widespread than most would allow). Perhaps this reflects a concern that whole bunch fermentation isn’t part of Barolo’s traditional style. However, just to underline how unstable the idea of ‘traditional’ really is, I can recall a visit with Maria Teresa Mascarello of the iconic traditionalist Bartolo Mascarello a decade ago when she advocated including everything in the fermentation, pedicels and all, as the most honest way of representing a vintage (this during an era when some were touting bunches individually destemmed by hand). Meanwhile, Roberto Conterno (of Giacomo Conterno, generally considered the ‘traditional’ Conterno) has a high-precision destemmer to remove every trace.

Genuinely new producers have been scant, partly thanks to the cost of Barolo vineyards (figures from CREA, the Research Centre for Agricultural Policies and Bioeconomy, put it between €200,000 and €3m/ha, an admittedly colossal range). A probably more important factor is the area’s insularity; vineyard sales are almost exclusively private, while new plantings were put on hold in early 2020. A few new(er) producers represent the tail end of the grape grower-producer wave, like Luigi Vico, whose first vintage was 2016 but whose vineyards are family holdings dating to 1694. The recent failure of the motion to lift the ban on planting north-facing slopes, which wouldn’t have expanded the area of approved vineyard anyway, suggests producers’ appetite for drastic change remains limited.

Meanwhile, the fixation on MGAs and site-specificity has grown, if anything, more intense, despite climate conditions that might favour traditional blended Barolo. As a sort of half-way house, several producers have emphasised commune-level MGAs (like Gagliardo, whose Monforte commune blend unites warm, sunny Mosconi with the cooler Castelletto cru). A unique feature of Barolo since Barbaresco does not have an equivalent category (and voted again this year not to add commune-level MGAs), these have an interesting role to play in shaping public perception of the communes. Some, like La Morra and especially Serralunga, have particularly strong identities – much more so, for instance, than the UGAs of Chianti Classico. This year, once again, we saw a lot more La Morra and Serralunga commune bottlings than Castiglione, Monforte or others. They generally fit their archetypes: the La Morra wines were delicate and perfumed, the Serralunga robust and surly, even, in the latter case, when some individual sites didn’t necessarily fit those traits.

At the other end is the finer slicing and dicing of the largest MGAs, which – because each commune was allowed to set its own MGA boundaries – vary in size from around 1.5ha at Castiglione’s Bricco Rocche to Monforte’s unreasonably large Bricco San Pietro and famed Bussia. The latter, though relatively uniform geologically, with sandy Sant’Agata marls, is topographically and pedologically diverse.

Alessandro Masnaghetti, known for his careful mapping of Barolo and the geology and soils of other regions, cautions in his books that geology is only a starting point for explaining wine style. For instance, the degree of soil weathering (distinct from the age of the geological formations) is a key metric. Freshly eroded soils on steeper sites, often south-facing (e.g. the famed Sorìs) are paler, less fertile and less water-retentive, typically producing wines of higher acidity but less colour and fruit. Cogno’s wines from Ravera, the increasingly acclaimed Novello site (well-represented in this report), are clear examples. The evolved soils on the other side tend to be darker, more fertile and humid, producing wines with softer acidity, more colour, fruit and tannin; most of the Terre del Barolo’s Ravera sites, used to produce the Arnaldo Rivera Ravera, are on more evolved soils. Thus, though in this year’s tasting the wines were tasted (open label) by producer, in future we may consider organising them by MGA to dig deeper into these nuances.

Finally, we come to the 2020 vintage. Though I was recently quoted in Gambero Rosso insisting Italians should be less afraid of tannin and that 2020 Barolo is a vintage that seems to have taken a rather Burgundian attitude to tannins, I also found much to enjoy in the wines. I find the same light touch and grace as 2018 – wines that give carpe diem pleasure rather than prompting too much serious analysis – but with more concentration, tannic framework and polish. Wines that were bottled more recently or matured in especially low-oxygen environments are even showing a little reticence. Though hardly the muscular output of 2019, these wines are worth hanging onto for a minute and are one of the few vintages of which I would readily buy a case with some to drink now and plenty to enjoy later.

Tasting notes and scores from Club Oenologique’s Barolo Report 2024 (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, click here.