Apr201202
jorisppattyn
0
Nothing South of Roma
This somewhat enigmatic complaint was uttered to me, more than once, by people as Gianluca Polini, my host in Atripalda, a town in the mountains east of Napoli (Napels). He was not referring to cultural or sporting manifestations, but to the idea carried by (beer)journalists, (beer)writers or the average beerenthusiast, concerning what is after all a huge part of Italy, undeniably one of Europe’s emerging beernations. Davide Bertinotti, former chairman of Unionbirrai, was more discriminating than most when stating: “There are about five destinations worth noting for beerenthusiasts, south of Roma, and the Ottavonano pub in Atripalda is definitely one of those”…
Ottavonano… it means “eighth dwarf”. The eighth dwarf in the house, visited by Snowwhite was scrapped out of the script by the late Walt Disney, as he definitely didn’t fit in the rosy picture of singing, dancing , fluttering and lackadaisically dawdling. That one boozed, smoked, and as to Snowwhite, his ideas on making her sing can’t even be discussed here. So, denied a role in the film, he retired into the Irpinia region, Campania, collecting the worlds’ finest beverages from the malt. Having given over his business to the already mentioned Gianluca, and his partner Yuri Di Rito, he’s now retired, but the duo has established a staggering point of interest for any true believer in beer – or whisky, for
that matter.
Since long, the two – driven by pure enthusiasm, never destined for this road originally – have understood that the wakening, nay, exploding interest for the malt beverages can be canalized only, if direction is given, first by themselves, being well-versed in the lore, and ultimately by people from further afar, who are understood to have some extra knowledge of certain parts of the whole. This has been materialized in the form of conducted tastings, or conducted beer-foodpairings (essential in a wine-oriented country) in the pub.
This pub, BTW, is in itself a sight worth seeing. From the outside it differs in nothing from the ubiquitous Italian story-buildings, overlooking a small local church; but once inside, there’s no more mistaking the real destination of this place. Wall-to-wall inbuilt wooden cupboards, all of them climatized, contain hundreds of beers, including gems that are hard, if not impossible to find in their countries of origin (the UK and Belgium being foremost in view). One wall
is reserved for the “other” maltdrink: about 250 maltwhiskies and Bourbons, including exclusive bottlings, await the finer spirit-inclined. How about the complete Ola Dubh range? Or, to remain in Caledonia, several brews from the House of Traquair? Further south, an absolutely staggeringly complete array of Thomas Hardy’s ales, starting well from the Eldridge Pope era. Struise Brouwers, Dolle Brouwers, 3 Fonteinen, Cantillon, Mikkeller, BrewDog… or BBarley, Toccalmatto, del Borgo,… – it’s your choice.
The fact that Yuri loves to work with wood has been an important and fortunate factor, of course. The two oversee a group of dedicated, and well-trained staff, that obviously take pleasure and interest in the proceedings themselves. I witnessed a Sunday evening full-house; young people of both sexes enjoying and exploring the offerings of the said cupboards, plus the 10+1 taps (the 1 being a true handpump for cask), and not avoiding the rare and expensive items.
Of course, this would not function without a well-oiled (no pun intended) kitchen with completely home-made food, specializing in local dishes and tradition, that is in constant service for the hungry. To the Italian crowd, not being hungry is no excuse for avoiding a small, or not-so-small nibble. This cuisine holds some small gems, often deriving from the imagination of the in-house chefs. As an example, how about an absolutely stunning and original dessert, made from ice-creamed local Gorgonzola, with a hot chocolate dressing? If you think that won’t work, try it, and pair it with a good Imperial or chocolate stout! More Gorgonzola, as in the sauce of a risotto with walnuts, and black local rice. Or a soup with beer, chestnuts, pigmushrooms and sausage…
The fascination from Gianluca with both UK and Belgian beerspecialities – often in well-aged form – has had another, probably unavoidable outcome. There’s no shortage of choice in Italian craftbrews, here, with a marked preference for
Southern and local brands. So, not surprisingly, brewer Simone della Porta, from Il Chiostro (the cloister or chapter) brewery in the not-so-far Nocera Inferiore, started close collaboration with the Ottavonano. The brewer himself has two lines of beers: those with Belgian, and those with Anglo-Saxon inspiration. On behalf of the pub, he created a separate line under the Latinized name Claustrum. Here, their common delight in slowly, carefully crafted and ripened beers finds a direct outlet.
Whereas the last guided tasting had been an overview of Campania’s microbreweries (nothing south of Roma, eh?), the one I was kindly invited to assist, was a joint culinary and brewing effort: “Five chefs, five beers”, or a set menu, executed by five distinct chefs, in the one and only kitchen of the pub (!), married to five beers from Simone, some of them specially styled for the event, as a cask version of the Scottish ale, here dubbed “Transport to London”. To fully appreciate the distinctiveness of this event, understand that getting five chefs to compose and cook a meal together is already a capo lavoro, but with topchefs (including one from a Michelin-starred restaurant), and fully marrying it all together to beer is an utterly stunning achievement. Moreover, the attendance was nothing to sneer about: no less than 75 dinners showed up, including local journalists, gastronomical and oenological experts and –writers. Now, how did yours truly get involved, you may well ask?
Well, ‘t wasn’t only me. As it was once more Belgium and the UK, the organizers invited a British and a Belgian beerwriter: none other than Roger Protz came over from London. Myself, I might have done the odd article here and there, or some collaboration to certain beerbooks; it’s more probably the ratings I did on Ratebeer on some of the Claustrum beers I had been provided with anteriorly , that seemed to have attracted attention. I was utterly flabbergasted to discover two life-sized panels, each a print from one of those RB-ratings, adorning a wall of the pub! Also, the fact that Simone and Gianluca are frequent visitors to my old haunt Kulminator might have helped too. What we, literate chickens had to do, to earn our keep? Well, we were kindly asked to speak a few sentences on the styles involved in the beers used, and how we placed the Chiostro samples in that light. Honestly, even me has been known to work harder for his fare.
What can I say about this food? It was gorgeous, plentiful (anything else would have been met with scorn in this Gargantuan environment), and the beer washed it away splendidly. It was a joyful, great evening, full of interesting meetings and talk. I was told the crew kept fêting it until the very wee hours… The remaining time, we were shown the delights of the region. Oh, you probably all heard about the splendours of Napoli, the cone that once blasted away Pompeii and Herculaneum or the spectacular Amalfi coast (maybe on your Playstation GT4…). We paid an impromptu visit to a vintner and a planned one to one of Italy’s three remaining artisanal coopers (Simone is a regular customer, here). So, if you have any southernbound beertravel plans, you might get worse advice as to venture on a trip beyond the Eternal City… Giuseppe Guanci, former employee of the Ottavonano will be glad to show you around, ask for his services in the pub!
JorisPPattyn, March 2012
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