Alto Piemonte

The Grape

Spanna. Nebbiolo by Another Name

In Alto Piemonte, Nebbiolo goes by the name Spanna, a reference to the local practice of measuring vine training by the span of an outstretched hand. The name persists as both a cultural marker and, in some DOCs, a permitted labeling term. DNA analysis confirms it is the same Vitis vinifera variety as Langhe Nebbiolo, but the expression diverges significantly under Alto Piemonte's cooler conditions and glacial soils.

The cooler growing season means phenolic ripeness arrives later, acidity remains elevated, and the tannins, while present, resolve more finely than in warmer, clay-heavy soils. The wines show more Alpine herb character, more mineral salinity, more dried flower and orange peel notes than the dark cherry and tar profile associated with classic Barolo. Spanna from Ghemme, drunk young, can seem almost reticent. Given time, and Galloni is projecting 2046 for the Cantalupo Breclemae. It unfolds into something extraordinary.

Climate: Cooler, Slower, Alpine

Alto Piemonte sits north of Biella, in the foothills and valleys approaching the main Alpine chain. Average temperatures run consistently lower than the Langhe throughout the growing season. The influence of Monte Rosa, one of the highest massifs in the Alps, creates a microclimate with significant diurnal temperature variation: warm days allow Nebbiolo to ripen fully, cool nights preserve aromatic compounds and natural acidity.

The result is a growing season that is both longer and more demanding than the Langhe. Harvest in Carema can run three to four weeks later than equivalent-altitude Barolo parcels. The vines must be suited to the challenge, which is precisely what has driven the development of locally-adapted biotypes like Picotener in Carema, higher-acid clones that have evolved over centuries to work with the climate rather than against it.

The story of Alto Piemonte is a story of survival against improbable odds. Phylloxera arrived in the 1880s and was particularly devastating in the sandy, moraine-rich soils where rootstock grafting proved difficult. Replanting was slow and incomplete. The two World Wars killed or displaced the young men who might have rebuilt the vineyard base. Post-WWII industrialization finished what the wars had begun: factory employment in Biella (textiles), Vercelli (rice processing), and Turin's automotive sector made agricultural labor economically irrational for anyone under 50.

By the 1970s, the appellations that had once rivaled Bordeaux for prestige on the tables of European courts were operating with a fraction of their historic vineyard area. Ghemme, which had farmed over 200 hectares of Nebbiolo in the 19th century, counted fewer than 60 hectares of active production. Carema's 120 hectares had declined to under 40. Some DOCs. Boca, Lessona, nearly ceased to exist as functioning wine appellations.

The renaissance began quietly in the 1990s and gained momentum in the 2010s. A new generation of producers, some from historic families, some from outside wine entirely, recognized that the infrastructure of quality was still present: the old vines that had survived, the ancient soils, the appellations with their strict regulations. The vineyards that had been abandoned were recoverable.

Critical attention followed. Antonio Galloni's 98-point score for Cantalupo's Collis Breclemae was not an outlier. It was a declaration that Alto Piemonte Nebbiolo, at its best, belongs in the conversation with any Barolo or Barbaresco. The drinking window he projected (through 2046) reflects the genuine aging potential of wines grown on granite and schist at altitude. That gap between recognition and quality is the sommelier's opportunity. It does not remain open indefinitely.