Italian Wine Region NYT: Why the Critics Are Obsessed With Etna Right Now

Italian Wine Region NYT: Why the Critics Are Obsessed With Etna Right Now

You’ve probably seen the headlines. For the last few years, if you open the Italian wine region NYT coverage or scroll through Eric Asimov’s latest dispatches, one name keeps popping up with almost aggressive frequency: Sicily. But not just any part of Sicily. We’re talking about the volatile, ash-covered slopes of Mount Etna. It’s weird. A decade ago, Etna was a niche curiosity for "wine geeks" who liked the smell of smoke and iron. Now? It’s the darling of the New York Times dining section and every high-end sommelier from Manhattan to Tokyo.

Why?

It isn't just because the wine is good. Honestly, there’s plenty of good wine in Italy. It’s because Etna represents a shift in what we actually want to drink. We’re tired of over-extracted, oaky bombs. We want "nerello mascalese"—a grape that sounds like a character from a Fellini film and tastes like Pinot Noir’s rugged, volcanic cousin.

The "New" Italy Isn't Where You Think It Is

When people think of an Italian wine region NYT writers would obsess over, they usually default to Tuscany. The rolling hills. The Chianti. The villas. But the conversation has moved south.

Sicily used to be a bulk wine factory. They produced massive amounts of high-alcohol juice used to "beef up" weaker wines in Northern Europe. It was industrial. It was boring. Then, a few pioneers—people like Giuseppe Benanti and later the legendary Marco de Grazia—realized that the high-altitude vineyards on the north side of the volcano were sitting on literal gold.

The soil here isn't soil. It’s sciara. That’s the local term for the solidified lava flows that have cooled over centuries. Imagine trying to grow a vine in a pile of smashed charcoal and rusted nails. It sounds impossible. Yet, the vines thrive. They struggle, and in that struggle, they produce something incredibly delicate.

Why the Critics Won't Stop Talking About Nerello Mascalese

If you read the Italian wine region NYT reviews, you’ll see the word "mineral" used a lot. Too much, maybe. But with Etna Rosso, it actually makes sense.

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Nerello Mascalese is the primary red grape here. It’s light in color. If you poured it into a glass, you might think it’s a Rosé or a very pale Burgundy. But then you smell it. It’s wild strawberries, dried herbs, crushed rocks, and firecrackers. It’s elegant but dangerous.

"Etna wines are essentially the Burgundies of the Mediterranean," says wine critic Eric Asimov.

This comparison isn't just marketing fluff. Both regions rely on "contrade." These are essentially "crus"—small, specific plots of land where the lava flow from 1947 might taste completely different from the lava flow of 1912.

The White Wine Revolution (Etna Bianco)

While the reds get the glory, the whites are arguably more interesting. Carricante is the grape to know. It’s high-acid, citrusy, and has this weird ability to age for a decade. It’s the kind of wine that makes your mouth water and makes you want to eat a plate of pasta alla norma immediately.

The Northern Powerhouses Are Changing Too

Of course, we can't ignore Piedmont. But even there, the Italian wine region NYT focus has shifted away from the untouchable, $500 bottles of Barolo.

Lately, the buzz is about the Alto Piemonte. Think Gattinara and Ghemme. These are regions further north, closer to the Alps. The wines are still made from Nebbiolo, but they are lighter, more acidic, and—frankly—more affordable.

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People are looking for freshness. The climate is getting hotter. Traditional Barolo zones are struggling with rising alcohol levels. Moving up the mountain, whether it’s in the Alps or on a Sicilian volcano, is the only way to keep that "zing" that wine drinkers are currently craving.

The Natural Wine Factor

You can't talk about modern Italian wine without talking about the "natural" movement. Sicily is the epicenter. Because the island is so windy and dry, farmers don't need to spray as many chemicals to prevent mold. It’s a natural paradise for organic viticulture.

Frank Cornelissen is the name that usually triggers a heated debate in the Italian wine region NYT comments section. An eccentric Belgian who moved to Etna, he makes wines with zero added sulfur. Some people think they taste like nectar of the gods; others think they taste like kombucha gone wrong. But that’s the point. Italian wine isn't "safe" anymore. It’s provocative.

What Most People Get Wrong About Italian Regions

Most tourists go to Chianti, buy a bottle with a black rooster on it, and think they've "done" Italy.

Honestly, that’s a mistake.

The real soul of Italian viticulture right now is in the "underdogs."

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  • Abruzzo: Moving away from cheap Montepulciano d'Abruzzo to world-class, complex whites like Trebbiano d'Abruzzo (look for Valentini if you have a lot of money, or Emidio Pepe).
  • Campania: Specifically the whites from Irpinia. Fiano di Avellino is arguably Italy’s greatest white grape. It’s waxy, smoky, and tastes like hazelnuts.
  • Umbria: Everyone ignores it because it’s next to Tuscany. But Sagrantino di Montefalco is the most tannic grape in the world. It’ll turn your teeth purple and make your tongue feel like it’s wearing a wool sweater. It’s an experience.

The Practical Reality of Buying These Wines

If you're looking for these Italian wine region NYT darlings, you won't find them at a gas station or a massive supermarket chain. You need to look for "boutique" importers.

Names like Kermit Lynch, Louis/Dressner, and Rosenthal are the gatekeepers. If you see their name on the back of a bottle of Italian wine, buy it. They’ve already done the hard work of trekking up the volcanoes and through the Alpine foothills to find the stuff that hasn't been manipulated in a lab.

Price Points and Expectations

Expect to pay between $25 and $45 for a solid Etna Rosso. Is it more than a $10 Pinot Grigio? Yes. Is it better? Infinitely.

You’re paying for the fact that someone had to hand-harvest grapes on a 45-degree slope while a volcano occasionally burped ash onto their head. That's a labor cost you have to respect.

How to Drink Like a Critic

Don't overthink the glassware. Don't serve the reds too warm. In fact, put your Etna Rosso in the fridge for 20 minutes before you drink it. It tightens up the structure and makes those volcanic minerals pop.

Italian wine is meant for food. This isn't "cocktail" wine. It’s high-acid, high-tannin wine that needs fat and salt to balance it out. A simple bowl of cacio e pepe or a piece of grilled swordfish will make a $30 bottle taste like a $100 experience.

Actionable Steps for Your Next Pour

  1. Seek out "Etna Bianco" made from 100% Carricante. It’s the most underrated white wine in the world right now.
  2. Look for the importer. Check the back label for "Louis/Dressner" or "Kermit Lynch" to guarantee a specific style of low-intervention winemaking.
  3. Explore the Alto Piemonte. If you like the structure of Barolo but want something more "crunchy" and light, look for wines from the Gattinara or Carema DOCGs.
  4. Stop buying "International Styles." If an Italian wine is aged in 100% new French oak, it’s going to taste like vanilla and wood—not Italy. Look for "Botti," which are the large, neutral Slovenian oak casks that let the fruit speak for itself.
  5. Check the vintage. For Sicily, 2019 and 2021 were particularly stellar. Avoid years that were excessively hot if you want that high-acid "NYT style" profile.

Italy is no longer just the land of "sun-drenched hills" and easy-drinking reds. It’s a map of geological tension. Whether it’s the limestone of the north or the basalt of the south, the best wines are coming from places where the land is trying its best to kill the vines. That’s where the flavor is.