After the apparent popularity of my post uncovering the history of Petite Sirah and the fun I had researching for it, Paul, the winemaker at Sculpterra Winery, invited me back to do some more barrel tasting. This time Primitivo was the focus, pointing me in the direction of another rabbit hole of grape-related history. Later, some tasting, but in the meantime, here’s some of what I’ve discovered about the Primitivo grape.

Ready to dive in?

No? Click here to take the lazy shortcut. If this doesn’t do it for you, read on, my friend.

Pre-DNA testing, tracing the history of grape varieties could be extremely difficult, sometimes impossible with any accuracy. We really only had a combination of vine appearance, hearsay, and sometimes vague paperwork to go on, so definitive answers could be hard to come by. Chemical analysis helped, but DNA testing developed in the 1990s was a definite leap in accuracy.

Zinfandel? I thought we were talking Primitivo!

To discover Primitivo, let’s first take a look at Zinfandel from an American perspective (yes, I’m British, and we’re supposed to be looking at Primitivo, but bear with me).
In the 1820s, a horticulturist on Long Island named George Gibbs imported vines from various places in Europe, including Austria. William Robert Prince, the author of ‘A treatise on the Vine’, mentions a ‘Black Zinfardel of Hungary’ in 1830, and it’s thought this could be our famous Zinfandel.
In the early 1830s, ‘Zenfendal’ could be found in Boston, and by 1835 ‘Zinfindal’ was being highly recommended as a table grape which would be grown in hothouses.
By the 1850s, cooler-climate grapes were taking over here, and hothouse varieties were becoming less popular.

The California Gold Rush in the 1850s brought many people from across the country, and that included growers like William Robert Prince and Frederick Macondray, who brought Zinfandel with them. Macondray supplied vines to Joseph W. Osborne, who had a vineyard in Oak Knoll. His wines were very well received by critics in 1857, and it wasn’t long before new plantings of Zinfandel really took off.

By the end of the 19th century, Zinfandel was the most widely planted wine grape in California. In 1885, the Tonesi brothers planted Zinfandel on what is now known as the ‘Ueberroth Vineyard’ in Paso Robles. Turley Cellars uses the fruit from this vineyard.

After the end of prohibition in 1933.

Within 50 years of Zinfandel arriving in Paso Robles, Prohibition had taken its toll on commercial winemaking. Home winemaking had exploded, however, and many vineyards kept going by selling grapes for that market, but pre-1933 commercial wineries were hard to come by. So too was decent quality Zinfandel fruit since it had lost popularity with home winemakers to thicker-skinned varieties.

It wasn’t until the 1970s that Zinfandel got its next significant boost, by which time its history had mostly been forgotten. Bob Trinchero of Sutter Home winery bled off some juice from his Zinfandel grapes after crushing to help concentrate the remaining wine and decided to ferment this light-coloured juice, and White Zinfandel was born. Originally it was a dry wine, but after an incomplete fermentation in 1975 resulted in a sweeter version, Zinfandel was once again set to gain popularity.

These days, White Zinfandel still accounts for as much as 10% of American wine sales.

A whole generation got into wine via easy-drinking White Zin’, and it can be hard to push aside ideas of a simple, less serious beverage. Zinfandel, however, has a long history and is capable of making superb wines with complexity and bold flavours.

We’re getting to Primitivo, I promise!

In the 1960s, experts had noted how Zinfandel looked remarkably close to Italy’s Primitivo vine, a variety that had been growing around the region of Puglia, southeast Italy since the 1700s. Primitivo vines were brought from Italy to California in 1968, and it was determined in the mid-70s that they had an identical chemical fingerprint to Zinfandel.
Scroll forward to the late 1990s, and Professor Carole Meredith of UC Davis was working with experts in Croatia to research the country’s native grape varieties. Part of the project was to discover the true heritage of Zinfandel. The team announced a few years later that Zinfandel was, in fact, genetically identical to a native Croatian grape known as Tribidrag or Crljenak Kaštelanski. Tribidrag is the oldest known name and much much easier to pronounce, so I tend to use this name when the subject of Zinfandel’s history crops up.

These days, it’s generally understood that Zinfandel and Primitivo are both clones of Tribidrag, with Primitivo producing smaller grapes and an increased number of clusters. It’s less prone to bunch rot since the clusters are a little more open and generally produces lower yields than Zinfandel overall. The name Primitivo comes from the grapes attaining ripeness earlier than most that are indigenous to southeast Italy.

So, in summary, Primitivo is Italy’s long-lost twin of Zinfandel. Sort of.

It shares many characteristics with Zinfandel, including the ability to get super-ripe, resulting in the potential for bold, high-alcohol wines.

Sculpterra produces three dry Primitivo wines plus a Port-style fortified dessert wine and a spectacular Primitivo/Cab/Merlot blend called Figurine.
Visit the tasting room or the online store to check out these wines.

Primitivo ripening on the vine. This is the highest elevation spot at Sculpterra.

Finally, let’s do some tasting.

For the 2021 harvest, the Primitivo fruit was picked on three separate days, leading to different ripeness levels and three flavour profiles to make wine with. The three lots were then fermented with different yeast strains and aged in a selection of barrels, both new and used, adding yet more complexity. The samples I got to try were all from new barrels.

• Sample #1. Lot 1 in a new Radoux 300L American oak barrel. Oak from Minnesota. M+ toast.
  Graham cracker and ripe berry fruit on the nose. Big fruit flavours on the palate and bold mouthfeel. Prominent tannin and acidity. 
• Sample #2. Lot 2 in a new T.W. Boswell 240L American oak barrel. Oak profile 61.
  A less intense aroma than the first sample. Some oregano greenness. Thinner feel and a definitely oaky finish. 
• Sample #3. Lot 2 in a new T.W. Boswell 240L American oak barrel Oak profile 107.
  More fruit on the nose compared to the previous sample. Rounded and juicy on the finish. 
• Sample #4. Lot 3 in a new ‘Charolais’ 500L American oak barrel. M+ toast.
  Balanced nose and very fruity on the mid-palate. Sweet vanilla on the finish.
• Sample #5. Lot 3 in a new Seguin Moreau 500L American oak barrel. U-stave, M+ toast.
  Distinctly smokey compared to the other samples. Balanced on the palate with cola and vanilla on the finish.

A couple of things to remember here:
Firstly, I am an employee of Sculpterra Winery; however, all opinion expressed here is entirely my own.

Secondly, I am not the world’s foremost expert on the subject. I cross-referenced various sources to get my information, and I tried to make sure what I write is correct, but don’t go blaming me if you find I got something wrong and that affects you in some way. Still, constructive feedback is always welcome.

Anyway. I very much appreciate you visiting my blog. See you again soon.

Darren.

Sculptterra Primitivo Reserve. Multi-award-winning and delicious.