“This is a wine you can bite,” declares Cantine Florio’s oenologist, Tommaso Maggio, as he draws some 1939 Marsala directly from the cask. “It’s almost like jam.” Nearly 80 years old, this Marsala was born at the start of the World War II.
I take a sip. Indeed, it is thick and unctuous. Decades of aging in wooden barrels have resulted in a slow evaporation of water, concentrating the dry extract to give the wine its unequivocal chewiness. The heady combination of salty bouillon, walnut, tea, dates and tobacco gives intrigue and balance, making it taste less sweet than its 120 grams/litre of sugar. The finish lingers with spices and burnt caramel. Maggio estimates a bottle would sell for 600 Euros. This is not the Marsala you casually pour into a classic veal sauce. Continue reading “Marsala emerges redefined rewarding the adventurous (Quench)”