Nicola Gatta, Quattrocento Extra Brut NV - 150cl

A magnum takes its time. There is the same amount of air under the closure as in a 75cl bottle, but twice as much wine for it to work on, so everything slows down — and in a wine already held forty moons on its lees, that shows up as breadth rather than age.

Nicola Gatta farms five and a half hectares at Gussago, on the limestone shoulder at the eastern end of Franciacorta, about 400 metres up. That altitude is what the name means. He gave up the right to write Franciacorta DOCG on his labels rather than accept rules about how he could work, so this goes out as plain Vino Spumante, metodo classico: Chardonnay with a slice of Pinot Nero, spontaneous fermentation on wild yeasts, no filtration, nothing added by way of sulphur. Ageing is counted in moons, not months. Forty of them.

Expect lemon pith and crushed chalk first, then the deeper register the lees have built — warm bread crust, blanched almond, a flick of acacia honey that never turns sweet, and toasted hazelnut skin underneath it all. Extra Brut, so the finish is dry and faintly saline. The magnum gives it more flesh through the middle.

How to Serve

Fridge-cold is too cold. Bring it to 9–10°C and pour into white wine glasses; a flute will hide the bready weight this has earned. Hold the cork and turn the bottle, because a magnum carries real pressure. The last glass of the evening will be the best one.

Where to Drink It

The River Cafe, where a big Italian bottle in the middle of the table raises no eyebrows. Boisdale, if the evening is long and there is jazz. Planque in Haggerston, for the sort of crowd that opens a magnum on a Tuesday.

Food Pairings

Roast a whole turbot on the bone and put it down in the middle of the table. The wine's acidity and salty finish handle the buttery juices, and there is enough of it that nobody has to be polite about seconds.