The Bullshit-ification of the Italian Wine and Food Experience in America

Inspired by Jon Lovitz of Saturday Night Live fame...

I had an epiphany recently. And it was, the new reality in America is that the old maxim – Money talks, Bullshit walks – has been hacked. It appears that bullshit also talks, and man, oh man, are we wading in it, up to our eyeballs these days. That said, I walked into a new Italian-themed restaurant. The “chef” greets me with a “Ciao y’all.” Boy, I must be in a real genuine, authentic Eyetalian restaurant.

The Wine That Wasn’t - Anymore

I’m just going to come right out and say it: I don’t like being me anymore. I was born a wine, but I’m tired of being locked up in this dark, dank, confined space, year after year. If this is living, I don’t want any part of it anymore. I want out!

Oh, The People You’ll Meet! (At a Wine Trade Tasting)

Oops!... I did it again - Went to a wine trade tasting and seminar. Something I used to do, lots and lots of, when I was visible. But now, it is a rare appearance I make for these things. In any event, it stirred up memories of the kind of folks you might meet at an event like that – let’s call them prototypes of  folks who attend such events, classic exemplars:

• The know-it-all
• The late arriver
• The button-downed
• The always curious, always hungry, always thirsty.
• The odd man out
• The perpetual student
• The true believer

Let’s dig in!

The Depthless Abyss

Somewhere in time - when you remember another time - things were deeper, truer, bluer, more connected to a believable reality. But here we are, with this pitiful excuse for a genuine moment. We’ve come all this way through time, through epochs, millennia, and for this to be the current crowning glory of acceptable existence? This is a dark, but thin comedy. This is a poor replica of the future, an even poorer byproduct of the past. This is a stretch that should be wiped away, for all time. And some day, I pray it will be. This is a travesty.

I’d just opened a bottle of red wine. Lest we think it was a commentary on contemporary happenings in the world, well, you might just have been misdirected. The wine was a washout, it displayed no redeeming features. It was foul smelling, sour, rotten flavored and reeked of spray on tan and mimeograph paper. What were they thinking when they brought this one out into the open?

It had been days since I’d tasted wine, as a cold prevented me from imbibing. Standing up, it had been a bottle I snagged back in 2016 and just let it rest in the cellar. It went through a tumultuous historical period lying there in the darkness. So, I thought it was time. Little did I know, if it was time, it was of another time. Not any time that I’d like to be associated with or in. And yet, here we were.

I put it aside and disregarded it. Hoping the next time I’d have a better experience. And just like that I decided not to pick up another one, nor just yet. “Just leave it be,” a voice inside said. “This is not the time. Let it pass.” So, I did.

There are times when one cannot step into the abyss. Yes, I know it’s there. And every time I open one up, there is the possibility that it could be paradise or perdition. I’m just not ready for the gamble. Let ‘em all rest. I’ll come back later.

 

 

© written and photographed by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy

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