I never need much encouragement to plunge into the pleasures of Italy. In the summer, tasty, effortless antipasti trigger an instant demand for their natural drinking companions - Italy's distinctively fresh, sometimes slightly salty white wines. With winter drawing in, steaming pasta, risottos and simple braises become the pretext for sampling a whole shelf full of reds, from the lightest Valpolicella to the most macho SuperTuscan. Now, to add fuel to the already blazing foodie fire, along comes Marcella Hazan with a new book (see above). It's a reminder of almost limitless riches. Regional diversity is the first attraction. Just as Italian cooking is a shaded patchwork of styles and flavours - delicate and refined in the north, earthier and more vibrant towards the south - Italian wine reflects the dogged individualism of a land that was, until only 150 years ago, a disparate collection of states. Though France may find this hard to swallow, I don't believe there's another wine-producing country in the world that offers quite so much variety. It's probably all Chianti's fault that we're inclined to think mainly of Tuscany, forgetting that Italy has a score of wine-producing regions and probably four times that many strains of native grapes. The result? A vast and wonderful array of flavours.
The sheer range - and perhaps to some extent, the unfamiliarity - of Italian wines may make the business of choosing the right bottle seem a far trickier business than rustling up a stunning little dinner all'italiano. Maybe one reason why Chianti has built up such a solid core of fans is that, as a middleweight red wine, it's flexible enough not to be an outright disaster in too many situations. But there are a few general principles which may be handy if you're keen to explore exciting flavour combinations.
First, the regional rule which so often comes to the rescue in food and wine matching. This is based on the simple theory that the wines of a particular area tend to go particularly well with local foods - partly because there's a natural affinity between products of the same soil. If in doubt about which wine to serve with some Italian dish, narrow the choice by focusing on wines from whichever part of the country the dish originates. If you're cooking with Marcella Hazan, you're five steps ahead in this regard, as she generally places recipes in their geographical context.
Sometimes the vital information may even be in the recipe title. It's easy to imagine how good Risotto Friuli-Style, with Rosemary and White Wine, would be with a fresh Sauvignon Blanc or fruity Pinot Grigio from that north-eastern corner. Pan-roasted Lamb, Apulian-Style, with Onions and Potatoes calls, on the other hand, for one of those rich, rustic reds from the deep south. And no prizes for guessing what fizz to sip with Asti-Style Apple Tart with Honey, Orange, Lemon and Grand Marnier. Otherwise, you may just need to check the regional details in the recipe introduction, then reach for your wine atlas. With any luck the perfect match will leap from the page - food and wine as made for each other as Romeo and Juliet.
But, for times when this kind of geographical pairing seems too cumbersome, there is another, broader approach. Think of the main flavours in Italian cooking. Tomatoes, basil, sage, fennel - all of these are fresh and tangy. Rocket, radicchio and chicory veer from peppery to tart. Add in olives, anchovies, Parmesan, and saltiness comes to the fore. Between them, what these 10 key flavours have in common is high acidity. By good fortune, Italian wines tend to have this characteristic too. All you really have to do, then, to arrive at a happy harmony of flavours, is to match the weight of a dish with the weight of the wine to go with it.
In their lightest guise - in antipasti, delicate risottos or pasta dishes or in some cases with fish - these flavours of Italy tend to marry splendidly with the white wines we are inclined, I think, to overlook. Good Soave and Pinot Grigio, cool northern Italian Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay, faintly nutty Orvieto and Vernaccia . . . these are just some of a string of pale Italians with a tangy freshness which becomes literally mouthwatering when sampled at the same time as those bracingly sharp food flavours. If you don't believe me, just try them with a miniature assortment of antipasti, or a twosecond tomato salad with a few basil leaves, and see how the saliva flows.
In dishes of medium weight, those same flavours - tomatoes, basil, sage and so on - combined with poultry or the lighter meats such as pork and veal - suit light to middleweight Italian red wines. Valpolicella (Classico - the good stuff, please), Dolcetto and Barbera from the north and Tuscany's simple young Chianti . . . all have, in varying degrees, a bitter cherry and almond character which perfectly matches the tanginess of the food. With Chianti Classico, you can afford to move one step up the scale in terms of weight, heading towards steak or roasts.
And then it's on to the heavyweight brigade. Roll out majestic Barolo when your tomatoes and herbs have helped to produce a terrifically rich beef stew. Wheel in Amarone, winter's most delectable inner lining, as a fullbodied partner for game (or, come to think of it, a nice chunk of Parmesan all on its own). And the closer you creep to the Mediterranean in recipe style, tossing salty olives and anchovies into the equation, the more it will make sense to choose a gutsy, big red wine from the south - Puglia, say, or Calabria, or Sicily.
I can't think of a cosier winter pastime than day-dreaming about Italy while playing around in the kitchen with all these flavours. The only negative factor is that Marcella can't be counted upon for consultation. She doesn't drink wine - only Jack Daniels.