During a recent trip to Alto Piemonte, I was not in the least bit prepared for the way in which the village of Oira, population 100, would steal my heart and have me plotting an early retirement to one of the abandoned stone houses on its hillsides. Until then, I’ll be reminiscing about its small community, single church, and dairy cooperative, and, of course, the vineyards. Specifically, the Garrone family’s intertangled pergolas of lanky, old-vine Prünent growing gracefully in untamed parcels overlooking the valley. Diecibrente is made from their most special plot, in a canyon that benefits from cooling, dry winds in the early morning and evening. This vibrant, floral Nebbiolo will transport you to the Italian Alps.

The Fantino family has had vineyards in the heart of the Bussia cru for over sixty years, with vines planted in Monforte d’Alba at the prime altitude of around two hundred meters. Since the strict delineation of the cru’s boundaries has loosened over the last decades, it’s nice to know which Bussia (their subzone is called Cascina Dardi) are the most historical and authentic; to separate the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. Fantino’s is densely perfumed with aromas of morello cherry, fennel, and earth. It is traditional, unmistakably Barolo, but above all else deliciously made and soul-stirring.

In any season of life, the wines we gravitate toward ebb and flow. I’m currently in my Italian reds era, which means my wine fridge is stocked with Langhe Nebbiolo, Chianti, and Montalcino. Those appellations hit the sweet spot for me these days, and I reach for one over the other depending on my mood. Of the five Langhe Nebbiolo bottlings we currently import, I open Massimo Benevelli’s when I want something a bit tailored, elegant—gentlemanly, perhaps. It tastes of tradition, is classical and precise, and allows me to channel my inner, hardworking, mid-century Italian matriarch in the best way. Massimo’s Langhe Nebbiolo makes any dish seem timeless.