
Recently a soon to be open Italian-styled restaurant decided that needed to know more about Italian wine. Over a period of a month, all of the local suppliers gathered up their samples and went about-a-courting.
Now, mind you, this is a group who seem to have their feet on the ground, most of the time. They have had successful businesses and give to charitable causes. They aren’t entertaining any grandiose ideas about conquering the Italian wine and food scene; they are just looking to open a nice place for the people in their area. They aren’t looking to do one spot as the concept model, with the idea of doing twelve more in a year. That’s a definite recipe for disaster.

No, these folks are interested in change, and first in changing their ideas about Italian wine, and hopefully finding a style in their area that the local patrons will come to enjoy and appreciate. That’s what I get from hanging around them.


That’s the background.
Today’s lesson is about the 150 or so wines vying for the eight slots available on the banquet and catering list. Eight. Period.
This day, in the dark of the early morning while the frost was still on the branch, eight or so of us vendors trekked out to the hinterlands of our urban sprawl and lined our foil covered wines up in rows so these Catechumens could be initiated into the sacred mysteries of the blind tasting.

So if you don’t like the odds, stay home under the warmth of your Tuscan Sun. Here, in the combat zone, it's cold and it's dark, no bright lights of "Dancing with the Stars". But this is the part of the business very few of us talk about. It’s the frontline of the battle fields, where we go daily to dance our dance as good as our wines will let us, hopefully with the form of a great tango dancer or ballet artist or even a Fred and Ginger. Yep, I’d happily trip the lights with F&G.

Capeesh?