Yet the wines raised a few questions for me. Can they improve with age? Can they really be summed up as simple?

The 2015 Bartolo Mascarello, a year younger than the other two bottles, showed its youth. Its aromas were insistent and sharply contoured, profoundly fruity yet deliciously pure.

On the palate, the sweetness of the fruit was tempered by a welcome bitterness, a push-pull that gave this wine energy and a sense of liveliness. It was gently earthy, and the tannins exerted a mild but noticeable grip. It was exceptional, but I thought it could have used another year or so to soften a bit.

The Roagna benefited from the extra year of aging, which seemed to have smoothed out any rough edges it might have had. It had bright, vibrant tart berry flavors, and, like the Mascarello, it was alive in the glass. Though the fruitiness was indeed pleasing, it, however, lacked an added earthy element. It could be called simple, yet delightfully so.

Image Credit... SERGE BLOCH

By contrast, the Einaudi seemed to exist in an entirely different dimension from the other two. It was deeper, longer, denser and more complex. While it shared the bright, vivacious fruity aromas and flavors, as well as the lovely tension between sweet and bitter, it offered a more pronounced and lasting earthiness than the Mascarello, a mineral quality that I’ve rarely seen in a dolcetto.

Significantly, the first two wines were from the Alba region, where dolcetto coexists with nebbiolo and barbera. It is beloved but not the area’s top priority. In the Dogliani region, however, where the Einaudi is from, pride of place is given to dolcetto. Though a lot of dolcetto comes from Alba, and much of it from excellent producers, Dogliani is generally considered the best territory for dolcetto (along with a third appellation, Dolcetto di Diano d’Alba, which I don’t often see in the United States).