Dolcetto d'Alba Terre D'Aleramo: galloping through Monferrato

Anyone who knows wine – or thinks they know at least a little – always wants to choose what to drink: the type of wine, the winery, the vintage, and so on. The choice is often complex, with many parameters to consider, many of which are immeasurable and subjective, accompanied by the emotional involvement that so often takes the lead.

Sometimes, though, it's not up to you to choose. It can happen that you rely on someone you consider more knowledgeable, give in to the desire to discover something recommended that you've never tried, or politely accept what the host puts in front of you, and so on.
The wine I'm presenting today, on the other hand, was essentially forced on me at a restaurant – "this is all we have left": Dolcetto d'Alba Terre di Aleramo.
Dolcetto is the third most widespread Piedmontese grape variety after Barbera and Moscato, and among its DOC designations, Alba is certainly the most well known. The name suggests sweetness, but the grape actually produces dry red wines with a slightly bitter finish. Outside the region it is less known than its "noble cousins," probably due to its status as an everyday wine.
It's an "all-meal wine," and given that the table will feature Pansotti in crema di noci and involtini di speck with white meat, it could work well.

Now let's turn to the winery: Terre di Aleramo. Who was Aleramo? A marquis with a mysterious and elusive life, he is known for the legend that has followed his name down through the centuries to this day. According to the tale, Aleramo fell in love with Alasia, the Emperor's daughter, with whom he decided to flee to his lands – lacking the courage to tell his noble father-in-law of their intention to marry, fearing he would refuse. Despite the situation, he continued to fight under a false identity in the army, but was discovered by the Emperor, who decided to reward his courage by pardoning him and offering him a fantastic opportunity: all the lands that Aleramo could cover on horseback in three days and three nights without stopping would be his. Aleramo rode throughout the entire area of Monferrato which, in all likelihood, takes its very name from him. Monferrato in fact derives from mun (brick) and frà (to shoe): the marquis used bricks to re-shoe his horses along the way, tossing them along the route as proof of his passage.
Other versions of the legend say that the marquis's horse actually lost a shoe and he found a brick in the road and used it as a hammer to re-shoe it. Naturally there are also other stories about the origin of this area's name that have nothing to do with the legend – the one certainty is that there is no certainty.
But now let's get to our wine, paid for at 16 euros in a restaurant, effectively under duress!
Ruby red in colour with a violet-tending rim, the nose is fresh but restrained: red currant and cherry. On the palate it is dry and easy-drinking, with the characteristic almond-tinged, lightly bitter finish that cleanses the mouth.
An unpretentious wine that doesn't offend the palate – I wouldn't have chosen it myself, but it could have been worse; the bottle was finished, and that earns it a passing grade!