A vertical tasting is a strange, clarifying thing. Five glasses of the same wine, from five different years, lined up on the marble, and each one telling you what was true that summer in a way no weather report ever could.
We poured five Terralsole Brunellos last week. 2012, 2013, 2015, 2016, 2018. The glasses were identical. The estate was the same, the vineyard was the same, the winemaker, the irreplaceable Mario, was the same. Only the years had changed.
2012, the patient year
Garnet at the rim, already. A nose of dried cherry, leather, a little balsamic on the back of it. Soft tannins, long finish, the wine moving like someone who has already decided what kind of evening this is. 2012 was hot and dry; the wine has taken its time becoming what it is, and is now exactly there.
2013, the classicist
Tighter. More reserved. The nose held back for several minutes, and then opened into violet and dark tea. A purist's Brunello, not showy, not ingratiating, the kind of bottle that rewards a long dinner.
