Looks like this is shaping up to be a Staycation-Summer here in Texas and that ain’t all that bad. At least we have real good red meat and long highways that take us into interesting places along the wine trail. It’s airplane (and bus and train) free and yes there’s a little work involved, a lot of sun and plenty of family and friends. Life is good. Witness one of the wonders of Texas, our group’s Terroir-child Gia, who is just about as happy with the Texas dirt as the vines and all the rest of the stuff that inhabits this crazy-wonderful state.
Blanco Texas is somewhere between Austin and San Antonio and in the summer, there’s always a little river rolling and a hillside to set upon and let the breeze cool one off. A little wine, and a little more wine and it isn’t too bad. Sure it isn’t Ischia or Lago di Como, but it is the life we have chosen.After a Friday night marathon of restaurant visitations with “those who review”, whereupon we had sashimi for apps, pizza and mussels for secondi and gelato for dolce, I got up at 4:30 AM to make the trek to the Texas Hill Country. Around 9 AM I rolled into Austin to pick up the IWD, where she had a perfect espresso waiting for me. A block away we stopped at the Taco Shack for a prima colazione, one Espresso and two breakfast tacos later we headed for Blanco. It was shaping up to be one of those perfectly beautiful sky-full-of-Texas days. Hours later I’d be walking the vineyards with Giulio and we both remarked on the unbelievable quality of the Texas sky. Something about there’s always a cloud or two in the sky but the sun was always shining.
As we rolled into Stout Vineyards, there was a whole bunch of folks getting after the nets which were being put over the Syrah vineyard to protect the fruit from the birds. We had to do it this weekend, ‘cause Guy is heading to Washington D.C. for an Under the Texas Winemaking Tent event, on the National Mall during the July 4 week. He’s giving a talk about Texas terroir. Like Guy says, “We don't call it terroir in Texas, we call it dirt.”
The birds were angry and I caught a couple of the crazy ones dive bombing the vines, even though the grapes were a ways off from good eating. Actually, in this vineyard, harvest is looking to be around August 10-10 at this point. A good five weeks. Eight year old vines on caliche and all kinds of tough soil, good ventilation, great sun, but on those 4 acres maybe 2-3 tons a fruit will be delivered to the winery. A lot of work, but a lot more love. This is the love child of Mast Somm, Guy Stout, who is Texan through and through. He was busy that day unrolling bird netting and cleaning out irrigation lines, handing out clothes pins and watermelon.
Smile, Devon, look like you're enjoying it.
Our goal that day was to secure all the vineyards with the netting to protect the fruit from the birds. It was hot work with a lot of crouching and bending over. I am not a farmer and whenever I go into the vineyards I gain a lot of respect for those who toil in the fields. It’s punishing work. I am sore in places I forgot existed in my body.
No Ma, it isnt Gitmo
Yeah, this is kind of a momma-mia blog today, but hey, sometimes the wine god takes us into their hands and we are merely their slaves, building their pyramids and in return be rewarded with friendship, good wine, conversation, more wine, food and more food, a soft place to sit and with a little luck a cool breeze when it is all said and done.
Two thirds-way through the work a kind gent brought us some Chicken and Brisket from Riley’s Bar-B-Q in Blanco. Giulio and his wife Stacie brought an amazing Macedonia (fruit salad) and a brand spanking new rose from the Maremma from the Tenuta la Badiola estate. This was a wine that Alain Ducasse, chef at accompanying restaurant and spa L’Andana, asked the winery to make to go with his food served at the restaurant. This rosato called Acquagiusto. Italian rose from the Maremma, it doesn’t get any better.
Giulio in Vintage Polo Seersucker with the Maremma Rosato
Back to the vines, nothing like a little wine, some Bar-B-Q and watermelon to get one ready to go back to work. Wrong. I was wrangling for a nap, but no slacker am I, or my colleagues. So a few more hours and the job was done. The vineyard was wrapped up like a Christmas present.
Now we could unwind and have fun.Guy has a funky barn and extended patio, more like a shed, but it works just fine. Devon Broglie from Whole Foods brought some vino and Giulio brought some Dolcetto and Barbera. Guy had a ton of NZ wines and other assorted outcroppings from some discarded warehouse. Tracie brought a Verduzzo tradizionale from Friuli and I gathered a few specimens. Anibal Calcagno of Brenner's Steakhouse was part of the party, a young somm from Houston who took notes and was too polite to correct one of my more erroneous assertions. We were rolling into the comfy padded chairs under the shed in the breeze. Life is good.
Master-Somm Farmer-John Guy and Italian Blogger-Principessa Tracie
Baby Gia entertained us with her little girl antics. Everyone’s child should be a Gia, a happy to be there soul. Love that little one, thanks momma Stacie and poppa Giulio for bringing her with ya.
What else is there to say? A long night that ended with Canadian ice wine somewhere just shy of 2 AM. Almost 24 hours nonstop.
Driving home today from Austin, I was fueld on espresso ( the Taco Shack was closed on Sunday) but it was alright ma. I just set my sights on Big D and the pool in the backyard. Somewhere along the late afternoon I made it into the cool waters, where my little piece of Texas sky was waiting for me.
Sitting here now back home listening to John Fahey strum his guitar, all of Texas is ripe with tomatoes, melons and soon, figs and grapes. This ain't such a bad place. It beats sitting on a slow train.

Isn't that just the prettiest little baby girl you ever did see?
written by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy
Texas is very much like France, in that it is of similar size and very independent thinking. California and Italy share similarities in land mass, climate and lifestyles. Nothing exact, but some parallels to think about.
Q. Carla, you have adopted France and French ways. In fact you have married the most powerful French man in our time. Can you give us some insights as to how the French mind works and how we as Italians could approach the world in this new time, in ways that would be relevant and appropriate?
Q. How so?
Q. France is struggling though, recently, with dock strikes and work stoppages. Right now as we speak in the port of Marseilles, there are 29 oil tankers prevented from entering the port. How much more public than that can one be?
Q. That’s a pretty heavy statement from the first lady.
Q. Restaurants in the US claim to be French or Continental and then you go inside and they have pasta and simple fish dishes and everything seems more Italian than what is proffered.
A little less than a year ago I wrote
Several folks have asked me to guide them in the appreciation of wine, life and things Italian. They have asked me to set them up in Sicily and Sardegna this summer. They are cruising in mega-yachts that offer the comfort of things recognizable while in a world they aren’t so familiar with. Why even go to Italy?
Well, that bubble is bursting, big time. Everywhere you look, the paradigm is shifting. Everything is changing. Everything.
Back to the box wine. In the shade of 95° F weather, it satisfied the need for a liquid to go with the Italian-style baked chicken. I wasn't embarrassed to say I liked it in that moment, or did I talk myself into it?
Last night, while a dear old friend was breathing his last breaths I was lying in the pool staring up at the sky. My sparrow hawk family was foraging for dinner for their fledglings. The bubble is a circle in three dimensions, and the circle of life continues.
Yesterday I decided to take a walk around lunchtime. I was escaping the cube farm, which was cold enough to force me out into the Texas heat. I went out walking, when colleagues passed by me coming back from lunch. Moments later, one of them called. “Is everything alright?” “Yes, I’m okay, just trying to thaw out from the office.” Maiden voyage in these parts, to actually be walking around, like some kind of modern day Vespucci. Breaking out of the bubble.
People are telling me they have to downsize from three homes to two, from a Ferrari to a Maserati. But on the trail I am seeing people who are trying to decide if they should buy food or gas. One person told me they could buy a foot long from Subway for $5 everyday, and eat it for lunch and dinner, and they could exist with a budget of $150 a month for food.
Maybe it’s a little like the lawn chair man, tying helium-filled balloons to his chair, and when he is ready to come back down to earth, he bursts them as he needs to. So you sell a Mercedes or a condo in Florida and come back down to earth. You go to Wal-Mart and buy some Chardonnay for under $3 or you head to your local Piggly-Wiggly for boxes of chicken and chardonnay. The paradigm is shifting. So are the currents. Hang on to your bubble before the winds of change blow it away.






Earlier in the week I was at lunch with my Italian wine loving friend, Paul. We were at a little place in our neighborhood, York Street, talking about wine and food. Tasting a few wines, more for pleasure than anything. At the table behind me an Italian wine importer is chatting up his rep. He goes off on a property in Umbria and the consultant, Riccardo Cotarella, and how all his wines are overblown and why does he make Sangiovese taste like Zinfandel and why, oh why does he make Merlot? It reminded me of someone who was nega-ranting about Alice Feiring’s book ( or her position ) on a blog somewhere. I wanted to ask them all, “So you think you have a better idea? Then present it, get it out there and see what kind of mileage you can get from your point of view.” I know Cotarella is working to break away from the way he is perceived, we’ve talked about it. It’s like an artist that gets pigeonholed for a certain style and then, bam, he can only be a cubist or a surrealist or an abstract expressionist. Or a naturalist or a pure-wine Euro-loving Cali-hating effete snob. I want to say to these angry ones, have you ever picked up the phone and called these people? Or how about an email? Why not engage them in a dialogue? Why does everything have to be High Noon in this culture?
Look, the young importer seems to have a nice portfolio and I’m sure he is repping good people who are committed to their land. But is Cotarella any less committed to his evolution because he has found a thread of success that brings a lot of people to Italian wine? Quit knocking it. It’s cursing the darkness; it’s a mobius strip that will only drive you nuts.
Right now 40% of restaurant business in the US is take out, so that means they aren’t selling wine to those customers. The restaurant business is in the tanks. I was in a restaurant last night with a friend and he gets a call from a client wanting about 20 or so bottles of wine. The fellow couldn’t have planned his business a little better? And now he expect the salesman to stop everything he is doing so he can waste time and gas on a losing proposition to deliver this poor-planner his pittance of Pinot. And then the restaurateur wonders why his business is doing so badly?
I called a Brunello producer today. The last time I called him he was in India and said he’d call me back. Well, he must have forgotten. So I called and called and called again. Finally I reached him; he was in some ex-Soviet satellite city doing a winemaker dinner. I ask him how his Brunello is going. He says to me, “everything is Ok, everything is OK, just order the wine, Parker just gave it a 91.” We've got Toscana IGT's that Sir Bob gave 90's to and they are 1/3 the price of Brunello. And they're sitting in warehouses, moving slowly. So, how about instead, Parker giving me a gas card, something I can use?
I told him I wanted to know how his certification is going. I guess he is too busy spending time to develop the emerging economies to backtrack to the American circus. Just let Parker rate it and everything will be OK? NO-K.
That same leg that the foot dangles from got shot by its owner, on account of we too, like the winemakers in Tuscany, and people all over the world, are still working this being human thing out. We are still trying to find our somewhereness on this blue orb. Do you or don’t you wanna dance?

Q. Tell us in the past a little about the wine you are making in your time?
Q. And what role does science play in winemaking these days?

Q. If I could give you information from 2008, what would you want to know?