I am not entirely sure when it happened, but it sure did!  Pelaverga became a thing.  Whenever one of our favorites- G.B. Burlotto, Alessandia, Matteo Ascheri for three- arrives, it disappears almost immediately.  When exactly was this cult-like stardom bestowed on what’s really an obscure local grape?  Maybe I am asking the wrong question.  When, I guess, is not as important as why.  The why is, simply, because just about everyone who tastes Pelaverga, falls deeply in love.  It’s not a noble wine.  You probably don’t want to age it very long either.  It just tastes so freaking good!  How local is it?  It’s cultivated by only a dozen or so farmers in only in a very small part of Piemonte; in a few vineyards scattered around Verduno, just down the northern slope of La Morra hill in Barolo.  The grape has been in the ground here since time immemorial and, historically, it was known primarily for producing the not-quite-red, not-quite-pink wine the locals drank rather than bottling for sale.  It was the stuff that filled the carafes that mainly lubricated the cards, dominoes and social gatherings in La Morra.  The locals knew that its unique spiciness was just perfect with the raw sausages they got from nearby Bra and was the best for washing down the carne crudo, bagna cauda and the like so popular in the region.  Over time, though, because it was so persnickety to grow, harder to make well and downright impossible to sell, Pelaverga drifted towards extinction, and was well on its way out when Elisa Burlotto, daughter of the famed Commandatorie, convinced her dad, sometime in the late nineteen sixties, to keep a small parcel of Pelaverga in the ground in order to make what she called the family’s ‘Easter wine.’  From there, its fortunes began to improve.  It came along for the ride as Verduno’s other wines, notably its Barolos, began to gain acceptance.  And, once visitors to Verduno began to ask for it, well, that was a good enough reason to keep the grape in the ground instead replacing it with Dolcetto or Barbera.  The grape doesn’t have much color or body, you see, but what it lacks in tannin and heft, it makes up for in its delightful, very distinctive aromatics and irrepressible personality.  One of the best producers of the grape is one Diego Morra. Morra runs a tiny cantina with his wife Francesca that sits right at the top of the  iconic Monvigliero MGA where he grows his Nebbiolo-for-Barolo, hence the M’s on his label. His Barolo Monvigliero has become one of the hottest wines in Barolo over the past few vintages, but Diego values Pelaverga nearly as much.  He grows it at the crest of Monvigliero, at about 300 meters, on an exposure well suited to ripening the finicky grape.  Like his ancestors before him, Diego prefers to keep it simple when making the wine.  In the cellar, it’s fermented cool and aged only a short time in a stainless steel tank before bottling early to keep it fresh.  The Morra style leans towards wild strawberry with a dash of plum jam and very distinctive herbal notes like rosemary, wild thyme and anise with a dash of fresh black pepper at the end. Light in color, but extremely aromatic, it has fantastic vibrancy and acidity.  In fact, it’s a remarkable food wine, and, I can tell you, there are lot more people in Italy than the Burlotto family enjoying Pelaverga for Easter these days!  Served with a little chill, Morra’s will also be perfect with a platter of smoked meats and cheese, your next backyard barbecue or, even better, your Thanksgiving dinner later this fall!