‘The Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day’: surely one of the most beautiful images in all writing. One might have thought that it would have softened the Almighty’s mood, so that He would have given Adam and Eve a mere ticking-off for scrumping. But no: that stroll ended in the doctrine of original sin. For those who suffer under it, there is one aesthetic relief from stifling, humid heat: stucco seen through green-leaved branches. That combination refreshes the soul. It works even better, of course, if lesser regions have a less aesthetic form of refreshment: the cool of the glass.
In pursuit of garden wines, I have been drinking a lot of Soave and trying to learn more about it. My ignorance extended to the very name. I had assumed that it was the Italian for an enhanced version of suave. It actually comes from the village of Soave, whose three alluring, musical syllables turn into three graces, who salute the quality of life as it is understood among the rich landscape and long history of the Veneto.

On the subject of enticing names, the house of Pieropan sounds like a fusion of Peter super hanc petram and the god Pan. They make excellent Soave: the perfect accompaniment for St Peter’s catch in his earlier days. It tends to be at the top of the Soave price-range, but justifiably. The story of Pieropan is a charming one. The first winemaker started out as the local physician and then took up a much more important health–related vocation. His descendants still run the firm, in the way that family wine businesses should operate, under the benign sway of a further three graces: tradition, expertise and love.

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