Fifteen years in most cases is a relatively young age. But for a wine blog? It’s ancient. Some would say passé. Lord knows, I’ve tried a lot of different things to keep it upright and sailing right along. But It is work. No doubt about it. Although it is also a labor of love.
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| ♫ It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas ♫ |
Another aspect to this exercise is also to use those years as a personal reference. Maybe you were born that year, or married, or a child was born, or someone died. Anything that would be considered a particular landmark in time. It gives context beyond just the wine and the score it received.
I have had every one of these wines before, and while they are considered iconic wines, especially in regards to the prestige they proffer to the greater world of wine, they also imprinted my sensibilities towards an unabashed conviction that Italian wines are as good as any (e.g., French) wines in the world. It was not the case when I started out. In fact, I spent much of my early career expending my most persuasive capabilities in an effort to dispel the myth that Italian wines were somehow inferior to other wines. Now, not so much, as Italian wines are finally the darlings of the sommelier and collector universe. The mill of God grinds slow but exceedingly fine.
When all the kids took their swing, the poor creature finally burst opened and all manner of shiny and sweet things flew about the field and we all scrambled for the treasures. I don’t know why, but that memory reminds me of 2020 and Italian wine.
That was how I started out with this odd holiday, Thanksgiving. Like Columbus Day, Thanksgiving has come under fire by some who see it as having racist origins, representing a celebration of the conquest of Native Americans. I get that. I also know we, as a country, need something to unify us in this time of discord. I don’t think cooking a bird or smoking a ham will save us, I’m not that naïve. But I do see people finding ways to make moments for peace and serenity. And if celebrating Thanksgiving in the old way that the story was told to us is behind the times, can we not shift from that to a less highly charged observance? We cannot go back and undo what the Anglo-western world did to the indigenous souls here in America. But we can recast the day with thoughts of gratitude and clarity. No, we Americans aren’t the greatest nation the world has ever seen. We aren’t even handling something like this pandemic as well as many other nations on the planet. We have failed miserably. But we cannot shirk away and pretend that all that came before didn’t. We must admit, even concede, that we are not great again, and we must start over again, with the hindsight that we didn’t do it right, all these years. We must change now.
On July 18, 2016, an intergalactic dust storm - Mendacium Collocatio – plowed into earth, broadsiding North America. It modified the brainwaves of half the people it hit, and created synaptic disruptions in them, for which we are just beginning to understand the ramifications. It also appeared that those who were affected also acted as transmitters of turmoil, impairing about 20% of the people they came into contact with. It was during a hotly contested political campaign, and this was not noticed for what it was. It was thought at first that the activities of people were aroused due to their emotional connection to one or the other candidate. We are only learning now that was not the case. The earth had been hit with the equivalent of 15,000 kilotons of this cosmic micro dust, 10,000 times more powerful than the bomb that exploded over Hiroshima. And while the dust storm didn’t spread toxic and lethal radiation like a nuclear blast, it nonetheless caused widespread disruption. And it has been theorized that it made the human population on earth more susceptible to dormant viruses lying in wait, creating a confluence and causing a Perfect Wave scenario. The last time this planet experienced such a Perfect Wave was 66 million years ago.
How does one go from experiencing the great wines of the world, on a regular basis, for decades, to a world now so quiet and tranquil that the idea of rushing around the country, the world even, sitting at a table and taste 30 vintages of Giacosa, seems not only like a dream, but like another life?
In Italy, there is a most amazing fellow. He is 93 years old, and from the age of 18, his sole goal and activity has been to visit every winery in Italy. So far, he’s racked up 27,565 winery visits, and even though old age is catching up to him, he figures he has another seven years, when he turns 100, to cover all 30,000 wineries in Italy. He has done what no other person has done, yet alone even imagine doing. It has been a hectic pace, averaging one winery a day for the last 75+ years. One for the record books, our fellow traveler has been regarded in Italy as both a crack pot and a genius. Fellow genius Albert Einstein once said, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” Conversely, E.B White was heard to say “Genius is more often found in a cracked pot than in a whole one.” The following is an (imagined) interview I made with this most unusual man, known only as Gegè.
This is, without a doubt, going to be one of the most important
and intense elections in America’s history, with a countdown of less than a
week to go. With certainty, the final result will be probably days, if not weeks,
away from being known on election night. And the tug of the neighborhood liquor
store will be alluring.
Seeking guidance on which libation to open on the night of November 3rd (and beyond), we curated winos from around the world to share the brews and ferments they plan to pop open in these times. No matter if they are bowing to the Made in America wine or downing a strong classic brew, these winos offer expert tips on what to consume when the situation calls for a little fortification in the drinks department.
Now, I’m in now way claiming victory. It was a relief of sorts. Just like when I turned 34, and chanced upon living longer than Jesus. No, I’m not comparing quality or sizing myself up against a messiah. I am just noting, in the course of my life, those moments when it seems to be a milestone. And when I became older than my dad would ever be, it stirred the compost.
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| (photo, courtesy of the Illuminati winery) |
But why wait for someone to die to celebrate their life? Why
not beat the drum while their heart is still beating some of that fine red
Italian blood?
Which brings us to a figure whose life in Abruzzo has most definitely left its mark for the better. That person is celebrating his 90th birthday, Dino Illuminati.
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| Palermo - Isola delle Femmine |
Mozia
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| Photograph © by Michael Housewright |
Imagine taking a walk in a quiet place. In it, there were many souls from ancient times. They were from Greece and Italy, Sumeria and Egypt, Persia and Etruria. The voices were silent but the souls were coming through loud and clear, on a Friday afternoon on the eastern edge of Central Park.
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| Photo from eturbonews.com and Getty images |
