Prince Alessandrojacopo Boncompagni Ludovisi, a member of one of Italy’s oldest noble families and a leading figure in the promotion of Lazio’s artistic and agricultural heritage, has left us far too soon.
He was only 53 years old and had dedicated his work to the protection of traditions and the continuity of a cultural legacy rooted in the territory.
Among his many merits was the rebirth of Tenuta di Fiorano, a historic family property, which under his leadership returned to producing wines of the highest caliber, bringing the winery back to the center of the national and international wine scene. With rigor and vision, Alessandrojacopo had restored identity and prestige to a name that had marked the history of Latium wine.
His passing leaves a void in the world of wine and terroir culture. Even more so, it leaves all of us at DoctorWine, who knew him well and esteemed him so highly, astonished. To his wife Maria Carolina and family go our deepest condolences.
The funeral will take place on Thursday, December 4, at 11 a.m. at the Church of Sant’Ignazio di Loyola in Campo Marzio in Rome.
We want to remember him with a story that Daniele Cernilli wrote many years ago, in 2011, dedicated precisely to his efforts in the rebirth of the Fiorano Estate.
The return of the Fiorano
To those under 50, the name of Fiorano is more reminiscent of the Ferrari test track than the wines of an estate on the outskirts of Rome. Yet when Veronelli published his first Bolaffi Catalogue of the Wines of the World, back in 1968, there were only two wineries from Lazio named. Torre Ercolana in Anagni, owned by Maestro Luigi Colacicchi, and, indeed, Fiorano, owned by Prince Alberico Boncompagni Ludovisi.
When I read about it ten years later, I immediately called Elio Mariani, the young owner of the Checchino dal 1887 restaurant in Testaccio, opposite Rome’s old slaughterhouse, and my companion in wine-related escapades at the time, and asked him what he knew about that wine. “My father Sergio bought some bottles of it. I must still have a few in the cellar, perhaps from 1958. Come on, let’s open one.” It was an irresistible offer, not least because it included an invitation to dinner, something I could never have afforded at that restaurant. No sooner said than done, I rushed over that same evening and we opened the 1958 Fiorano Rosso.
The big surprise: Fiorano Rosso 1958
I knew it was a “Bordeaux blend,” Cabernet Sauvignon predominantly and some Merlot, but I had no idea what to expect. I remember the color was quite dark and vivid for a 20-year-old wine, but what struck me was the olfactory complexity. It looked like a Pauillac, instead it was produced in front of the Ciampino airport on the Via Appia Antica. Silky flavor, very elegant, austere. A marvel. “Elio, we have to go there, maybe we can buy a case,” I said immediately.
The visit to the Fiorano Estate
The following Monday, the day the restaurant was closed, we made an appointment near Alberone, on Via Appia Nuova, and drove Elio’s old Citroen toward Fiorano. No sign, just a fence that opened and allowed entry onto a dirt road.
After a few meters on the right was a gentleman with a sickle and a wide-brimmed straw hat who asked us what we wanted. “We are looking for offices to buy wine,” I replied, and he gave us directions. Only later did we find out that we had spoken to Prince Boncompagni himself.
The purchase of wine
We were greeted by Mrs. Jonah, she squared us sternly, I had an eskimo, beard and long hair, Elio dressed more “civilized” but certainly not smartly. “Six bottles of Red, six of White and if there are six of Sémillon, that’s the most I can give you,” he told us. “The bill is 10,740 liras, including Ige, and prepare the exact money because I have no change to give you.”
He jilted us, locking the office door as he went to get the cartons, so that we would not be able to leave or browse. We tried to get the money together; we came up with 10,750; twenty-lira coins were even then a rarity. Fortunately the thing went well anyway “but let it be the last time, though,” he told us with a stern look. The Fiorano Rosso was from 1971, the whites from 1970, even, one came from Sémillon grapes, the other from Malvasia di Candia.
The exchange of jokes with Veronelli
Later I called Veronelli , “Gino, I went to Fiorano and bought some bottles,” I told him.
“And that virago sold them to you? Really? You were lucky.”
“Yes, but tell me more about the wines, which I understood little about. The Red is a Bordeaux blend, but the others?”
“The Bianco is very good and long-lived, he ages it in old thousand-liter chestnut barrels, the classic barrels that have always been used on the Castelli Romani, but what is a real standout is the Sémillon, a crazy wine, one of the best whites in the world.”
“Come on, a Sémillon in Ciampino-how can that be?”
“Remember that grape varieties belong to the land that hosts them, they bear witness to it, even if they come from other places. If Fiorano’s is a great terror it may well be represented by a Cabernet or a Sémillon, don’t formalize.”
The meeting with Alessandrojacopo Boncompagni Ludovisi
I was reminded of Gino’s words (by the way, it’s almost seven years since he left) a few days ago when Paolo and Francesco Trimani urgently summoned me to their Wine Bar on Goito Street. “There is a person who would like to meet you.” The person was Alessandrojacopo Boncompagni Ludovisi, great-grandson of Prince Alberico, who died in 2005, a brilliant young gentleman who has started producing Fiorano again.
He pulled the bottles out of a bag, with the labels and capsules that I hadn’t seen in 30 years, and I must say I had a heart-stopping feeling. The 2010 Fiorano Bianco is based on other varietals, Grechetto and Viognier; the Rosso is exactly what it was. ” My great uncle Alberico guided me in the first steps and suggested that I make the new vineyards in this way. The red grapes come from the old vines, the others I planted in 2003, and according to him, before seven years the wine should not have been made. Everything remains from natural viticulture, just Bordeaux mixture and manure, then there are the hives with bees for pollination. As he wanted and as they had established to do, in the 1930s, with his consultant at the time, Tancredi Biondi Santi…”
I knew the story too, but hearing it again live was nice. Finally, here are the wines. I was a little afraid, thinking that disappointment might be around the corner. Instead… they are great.
