Diego Morra

Diego Morra farms from Cascina Mosca, in the Mosca district of Verduno, at the northern edge of the Barolo zone. Verduno has always been the quiet commune. It has fewer famous labels than Barolo village or La Morra, prices have historically been lower, and its reputation is for perfume and finesse rather than sheer weight. That reputation is now being revised, largely on the strength of one hillside, and the Morra family sit in the middle of it.

There are three generations behind the name. The estate's own account starts in the middle of the last century, when Domenico Morra bought a first small parcel of land. His son Antonio took it on, and Diego runs it today. What began as a handkerchief of vineyard is now 30 hectares spread across the communes of Verduno, La Morra and Roddi, along with 20 hectares of hazelnut groves, which is a very Piedmontese way to earn a second living. Sixteen of those hectares are planted to Nebbiolo destined for Barolo, and four of them sit in Monvigliero.

Monvigliero is the hill that has changed the conversation about Verduno. The estate describes it as a gentle amphitheatre running from the heart of Verduno towards Alba, catching sun from the cool of the morning through to sunset, on grey-blue marl at depth that turns whitish at the surface and is interleaved with sandstone. That combination is what gives Monvigliero Nebbiolo its aromatic signature of roses and fine spice, and it is why the site is now one of Barolo's recognised named subzones and one of its most sought after. The estate's logo, three interlocking Ms, stands for Monvigliero, Morra and Mosca.

The farming is careful rather than doctrinaire. Pruning is aimed squarely at limiting yields, fertilisation is with organic matter, and disease is handled under integrated pest management rather than a spray calendar. Most of the vineyard is owned outright rather than rented, which matters more than it sounds, because it lets a grower make twenty-year decisions about a plot instead of five-year ones. Nebbiolo dominates, but they also grow the local supporting cast: Barbera, Dolcetto and, less usually, Pelaverga Piccolo, a Verduno speciality that grows almost nowhere else on earth.

Stylistically these are classical wines. The Barolos get long macerations and time in wood, they are not built for early gratification, and they repay both a proper decant and a few years in the rack. The everyday wines are made in stainless steel and bottled for freshness rather than dressed up in new oak. What you will not find here is a modern, heavily extracted reading of Nebbiolo.

At the everyday end sit the unoaked Barbera d'Alba and the Verduno Pelaverga, which is one of the most distinctive light reds in Italy and nearly impossible to find elsewhere in Britain. Il Sarto, the Langhe Nebbiolo, is the sensible way to meet the grape without paying Barolo money. Then come the Barolos: Zinzasco, blended from La Morra and Verduno fruit, and Monvigliero, the flagship, which comes from the cru itself. Drinking those two alongside each other is about as clear a lesson in what a great site does as anyone could arrange.