Examining Cultural Appropriation in Italian-Inspired Cuisine: A Closer Look

Recently, I read an article in the local paper about a chef who opened an Italian-styled restaurant and the food they are serving. One dish on the antipasti list was a late addition after the chef tried a rosé vinegar and decided it had to be incorporated. The result was Prosciutto e Melone made with Texas cantaloupe, culatello (an Italian cured ham similar to prosciutto but from a different cut and aged differently), lightly candied hazelnuts, figs, and basil. The dish is dressed simply with olive oil and the lightly sweet rosé vinegar.

The chef noted ironically, “We have a lot more of what people consider traditional Italian,” but also admitted, “we couldn’t skip the opportunity to put chicken parmesan on the menu.”

Whispers from the Forgotten Frontiers of Italian Wine

Beneath the surface of Italian winemaking lies a shadowed realm—wines yet unborn, enigmatic and silent, waiting in the dark to rise and unravel all we think we know. In the hushed, forgotten corners of the vineyards, these unborn wines murmur secrets—shifting shapes and fleeting shadows of flavors unseen, poised to rewrite the story in ways only the future dares to hold. Ghosts of flavor and form haunt the folds of Italy’s land—phantoms of vintages never made, whispering cryptic truths from a future that may forever keep their true essence shrouded in mystery. Nowhere is this more hauntingly evident than in the Etna zone, where thousands of ancient indigenous vines lie dormant along forgotten hillsides—silent remnants of a time when Sicily’s wine trade pulsed with a vibrant, restless energy—now faded into memory.

Go to Rome, go to Florence, go to Venice, but please don’t go here!

When people travel to Italy, they go to Rome, to Florence, to Venice, to the Amalfi Coast, maybe even now to Sicily, thanks to the White Lotus. But in Rome, many rarely get around to digging into the Lazio region, which could take a lifetime to explore. Tuscany, yes, the wine trails there are established and finely tuned to squeeze every last Euro out of the tourist pocket. Venice, to some the Disneyland of Italy, also has long figured out how to capitalize on their place in Italy. Rarely does a tourist in Venice take a short hop to Treviso, which is like a mini-Venice without the hordes of tourists. Or Valdobbiadene, where Prosecco land flowers forth with exuberant beauty. Oh yes, now folks venture to Etna, and to Alba, Montalcino and Verona. But Liguria? Why in Heaven’s name would anyone go there? Oh yes, to hike the Cinque Terre. But Cinque Terre is but the tip of iceberg. Liguria is one of Italy’s best kept secrets.

What Photography Taught Me About Wine Appreciation

It’s no secret to regular readers of On The Wine Trail in Italy that I have a slight obsession with photography. One hint is that, for years, most of the photographs on this blog have come out of one or another of my cameras. I am a visual thinker, and photography is my compass in navigating life’s path. How’s that for a well-worn cliché? Nonetheless, it’s true. I love everything about photography. And I realize it has informed my wine journey from the get-go. So, let’s dive in.