Five litres of Brunello from a 98-point vintage — the first bottle of this format we have ever had from Le Potazzine. There is one.
Deep ruby with a purple sheen. Swirling brings dried violets and roses, black cherry and blackcurrant, cedar dust, sage and a smoky undertone. Full and concentrated on the palate, velvet in texture, with wild strawberry and a citrus lift raising the ripeness; the tannins are taut and developing fast. From five litres this is barely a wine to judge — it has not begun. What you taste now is potential: density, tension and a finish that simply refuses to stop. Lay it down until at least 2035, and then bring ten people to the table. Decanting is then not a question but a condition.
In Montalcino, grandparents call their granddaughters potazzine, after the small, brightly coloured birds of the Tuscan countryside. That is what their grandmother called Viola and Sofia, the daughters of owner Gigliola Giannetti — and the estate grew in step with them: Viola was born in 1993, the founding year, and when Sofia arrived in 1996 two more hectares took the total to five.
The Brunello is made traditionally here: a spontaneous fermentation of some forty days on the estate's own wild yeasts, without temperature control, followed by more than three years in casks of 30 and 50 hectolitres of Slavonian oak from Garbellotto. Unfiltered. Le Prata and La Torre mature separately and are united only at bottling.
This is the first five-litre bottle we have had from Le Potazzine. We own one.