2004 Barolo Brunate

Barolo has lost many of its older guard over the last decade or so. But Beppe Rinaldi's passing last summer somehow felt different, almost as if it signified the end of an entire chapter in the history of Barolo. That, along with the rarity of the wines gave this retrospective a real feeling of emotional gravitas. The wines were truly spectacular, but as so often happens on nights like this, the shared moments were even more special.

The first time I visited Beppe Rinaldi, back in the Piedmont Report days, his small estate in Barolo was only known to a handful of insiders. After my tasting, I had the chance to purchase 5 or 6 different vintages. I did the best I could on a graduate student's budget. Today, Rinaldi's Barolos are some of the most sought-after wines anywhere in the world. And with good reason. For readers who want to understand what traditional Barolo is all about, these are reference-point wines. It's as simple as that. On a strictly personal level, these are among my most treasured bottles.

Beppe Rinaldi is one of Piedmont's most iconic producers. Historically his bottles have been hard to find because they are mostly sold to private individuals rather than the trade, meaning that large lots are nearly impossible to come by. These are among the most natural, unmanipulated wines being made anywhere. At times past vintages have shown some rough edges and excessive amount of volatile acidity, but those traits seem to belong to the past, as today's wines are cleaner and better made. My recent visit was illuminating as I tasted everything in barrel from vintages 2004 through 2007. The rigorously traditional style is alive and well in these cellars. The wines are fermented in an open-top wood vat using natural yeasts. Temperature is not mechanically controlled. The wines see a longish fermentation/maceration and are aged in cask. Although Rinaldi has changed out a few barrels recently, the only concession to anything resembling modernity is an old-fashioned rotary telephone, which seems to genuinely annoy him each time it rings. Yields here have never been particularly low but the trend towards warmer growing seasons has resulted in beautifully ripe and fragrant fruit, particularly in recent years. One of things I admire most about Rinaldi is that he just goes about his business as he always has. He doesn't give a hoot what I, or anyone else for that matter, thinks about his wines, and that suits him just fine. Prices here have barely budged since I began visiting years ago. Rinaldi told me he thought generally pricing had gone out of hand. "It is, after all, just wine," he said.

Rinaldi was the second winemaker I visited on his birthday in September (he was born in '48), but it was just another workday for this traditionalist, who, as on all of my previous end-of-day visits here, looked like he had just come in from the vines. Rinaldi told me that he hasn't changed his style of winemaking in the 21st century but that the weather has indeed changed. The grapes always spend 20 to 25 days on their skins "if the grapes are sound," he told me. "I used to wait four years to bottle [today's wines are bottled after three or three and a half years], and even then the wines were impossible to drink for several years. But today, because of our warmer climate, the tannins are less strong and the wines are less rough. " So even one of Barolo's last remaining strict traditionalists admits that things have changed in the new millennium. "The last two vintages that produced really strong wines with severe tannins were '96 and '98," he went on, making it clear that this is his preferred style. The '04s here look to be superb, but Rinaldi told me that they won't match his '98s. He then opened a magnum of the '98 Cannubi to prove it.