From its earliest days, California's wine industry has looked to Italy for muscle and energy but to France for inspiration and affirmation.
The industry was practically built on the work of such Italian-American families as Mondavi, Sebastiani, Seghesio, Parducci, Foppiano, Martini and Pedroncelli. They sustained the industry through the dark years of Prohibition and nurtured it through the sleepy decades before the wine boom of the late 1960s and early 1970s.
Like many of California's other wine pioneers, these sons of Italy aspired to make wines that would be counted among the finest in the world. But the model they adopted was no different from that of their counterparts named Daniel, Hanzell, Beringer and de Latour. They wanted to re-create the great wines of France.
In large measure, they have succeeded. They made cabernet sauvignons that passed for fine Bordeaux and chardonnays that rivaled the greatest white Burgundies. They struggled mightily with pinot noir, with real success coming only in the last decade. In the 1980s a new generation of winemakers championed the great but little-known varietals of the Rhone Valley.
Lost in this orgy of Francomania was California's Italian viticultural heritage, which has brought the world some of its finest wines.
Sangiovese and nebbiolo, Italy's two greatest grapes, were represented by a few scraggly old vines in obscure vineyards. Barbera, a good second-tier Italian varietal, became a mainstay of California's jug wine industry, but it was seldom taken seriously as a varietal. Grignolino, a minor Piedmont variety cultivated by Heitz Cellars, has been a spotty performer (the currently available 1987 is awful).
The closest thing to fine Italian wine produced in California was the mysterious zinfandel, believed by some to be closely related to the primitivo of Apulia. But those links are tenuous; modern zinfandel seems inspired as much by the Rhone as any Italian style.
In recent years, however, there has been a small but growing movement in California to explore the state's potential for matching the greatest wines of Italy. Vintners are planting sangiovese, nebbiolo and even less well-known Italian varieties, and the oft-scorned barbera is winning new respect.
These new Roman legions are not numerous, but if some of the early efforts are any indication, Italo-California wines might be the most exciting development in the industry since the "Rhone Rangers" helped drag California out of its chardonnay-cabernet rut.
One of the leaders in this movement is Montevina Winery in Amador County, which was acquired in 1988 by Bob Trinchero, who made his fortune by building Napa Valley's Sutter Home winery into one of the nation's largest producers of white zinfandel and other varietal wines at reasonable prices.
In recent years, Mr. Trinchero's image as an entrepreneur and wine popularizer has eclipsed his reputation as a fine wine producer, but veteran tasters will recall that some of his zinfandels of the early 1970s were among the best made up until that time.
Montevina represents a different kind of commitment for Mr. Trinchero, said Stan Hock, the winery's chief spokesman, who visited Maryland recently and brought a selection of new Italo-California wines with him.
The small winery in the Sierra foothills had built a powerful, if somewhat mixed, reputation in the early 1970s for its blockbuster-style zinfandels. But after family squabbling led to the departure of winemaker Carey Gott in 1982, the winery went into a decline.
When Mr. Trinchero bought Montevina, he upgraded the equipment and renovated the winery, but his most important decision was to begin an extensive program of planting Italian grape varieties.
In 1990, Montevina planted three acres of nebbiolo, five of sangiovese, 10 of Friuli's refosco and two of Umbrias aleatico, as well as expanding its barbera plantings from five acres to 15. In addition, the winery is trying out another 40 grape varieties, some so rare they are no longer found in Italy, in an experimental vineyard.
The first crush from these new plantings will come this fall.
Mr. Hock said Montevina made that commitment for several reasons: suitable climate, especially for Tuscan varieties; the success of the "Rhone Ranger" wines; the growing interest in Mediterranean-style cuisine; and the Trincheros' own Italian heritage.
So far, the only bottled evidence of Montevina's prowess with Italian varieties comes from its original barbera vineyard. But persuasive evidence it is.
Now 99 times out of 100 barbera is a rather ordinary wine with an excess of volatile acidity. Only when yields are kept extremely low and the winemaker lavishes extraordinary care on the wine can a barbera show its true potential. Montevina's 1987 Reserve Selection Barbera is one of those wines.
It is serious stuff -- akin to the great Italian barberas from Elio Altare. It has great length and richness, with layers on layers of chocolate, raspberry, spice and earth flavors. Alas, it's out of stock, but there's a 1990 reserve waiting in the wings. Another predominantly barbera wine, Montevina's 1989 "Montanaro," is an attractive barbera-zinfandel blend that goes well with food.
(Montevina also has on the market a light, Beaujolais-style 1990 zinfandel called "Brioso" and a 1989 Amador County zinfandel. Neither is Italian-accented but both are quite good. There is also an exceptional 1989 Reserve Zinfandel.)
Besides Montevina, there are at least a half-dozen wineries hoping to catch the coming Italian wave. Some are new labels; others are established wineries that want a new challenge.
Generally, the Italian varietal that is given the best chance of excelling in California is sangiovese, the great grape of Tuscany that produces Chianti and Brunello di Montalcino.
The best evidence I have found for that argument is the 1989 Robert Pepi Sangiovese Grosso "Colline di Sassi" from the Napa Valley. This powerful, rich wine -- with a complex melange of vanilla, chocolate, coffee and herbs -- is a dead ringer for a $50 Tuscan vina di tavola. A much-publicized effort by Atlas Peak, also a 1989 Sangiovese, was far less succesful.
Probably the biggest hurdle for California winemakers is nebbiolo, the temperamental grape of Piedmont that makes the great wines of Barolo and Barbaresco. To date it has stubbornly refused to yield high-quality wine outside Italy. Most efforts have been abject failures, like the weedy, harsh 1989 Martin Brothers nebbiolo.
But there is at least one sign of success on the horizon. The nonvintage "Parabola" nebbiolo from Il Podere dell' Olivos in Santa Barbara County comes quite close to the concentration and flavor of fine Piedmont wine. It doesn't have quite the structure or complexity of a Barolo, but it's a sign that a fine American nebbiolo is not an impossible dream.
It's going to take a while. Most of the vineyard plantings are young, and the winemakers are finding their way. But there's a lot of room for success in California's diverse microclimates.
Mr. Hock put it well. "What was happening with the Rhone varieties a few years ago is now happening in Italian varieties," he said. "It's in its gestation."
Wine enthusiasts everywhere can look forward to the birth.