Hello Nero D’Avola, we meet again. You sound dirty, you look filthy, and yet I see you on every Italian menu. Somebody must have a serious fetish or you’ve bribed the right people.
Tonight’s choice (by the restaurant, as there was really only one Nero d’Avola on the menu) was Sedara Donnafugata, which is included solely to help me remember since there is nothing I know about the vineyard.
As for the wine, it’s dark enough to dye my tongue a deep-hued twilight and fruity in all kinds of crazy ways. Smelling it, I’m certain it’s a blackberry, tasting it it’s a blueberry and bramble, and thinking about it afterward, it’s some kind of raspberry. Seriously, I’m at a loss to describe it as anything other than fruity. Fruity in all kinds of ways that aren’t giving it adequate description. It’s not even that it’s so subtle (it’s not) or comlex (really pretty simple actually), it’s just that there’s loads of fruit and I’m inept enough not to know what kinds of fruit.
Nero D’Avola… is in fact a grape. Was kinda worried since Italy seems to mess around with regions and grapes so you’re never sure quite what’s going on but you’re generally happy with how it’s going. Figure it’s sort of like dating an Italian guy. Anyway, the grape’s popping up on the popularity charts and the Meatpacking District has a bar named after it, so it’s only a matter of time until Sicily can’t grow enough and the Hong Kong market starts exploding with overpriced bottles of Nero. In conclusion, Nero was an Italian emperor (a crazy one) and Nero d’Avola is an Italian grape (only crazy dark, not crazy delicious).
* Nero d’Avola – easiest to think of it as Italy’s Syrah
* Sicily is where Nero d’Avola lives. NYC is where it parties.
* Nobody has much more to say about Nero on the internets so I’ll do it. It’s a hot grape, both in that Paris Hilton way from the early 2000’s and in that 90 degree, sweltering can-grow-in-Australia way.