The Necromancer's Guide to Italian Wine

It all started with the Jewish prophet from Bethlehem, that turning water into wine piece of sorcery. How could we top that? After a couple of hundred years, we finally hacked it, and decided to turn that wine back into his blood, and so it has been for the last 1,700 or so years. Take that, Yeshua!

It was a pivotal moment in Italian wine necromancy, initiated by our little cadre of immortals, filched (or interpolated?) by the high priests of the Catholic Church in Rome. This, not the wine in Campania, not the Greeks in Calabria and Sicily, not the Etruscans. No, the New Testament era of Italian wine was transmitted by the monks and priests, alchemists, all of them. And guided by our immortal, unseen hands. And that is how we got to where we are today. Winemaking, traveling through time, as a dark art. Or at the very least, invisible.

The 2017 Harvest in Umbria and Tuscany - Fear and "Global Weirding" - Pt.III

"What do you get when you fall in love? A guy with a pin to burst your bubble."

There are parts of Tuscany that evade Brunello and Chianti Classico’s snares. They don’t get the attention, and sometimes the respect, but nonetheless, people set up their vineyards, their castles and their dreams in these places. After all, it is Tuscany, how bad can it be?

America Under Fire: An Open Letter to the Italian Wine Community

Click here NOW to donate and have your donation matched - SGWS CA Wildfire Relief Fund

Caro amici e colleghi,

It seems every Sunday terrible news comes from America. And lately yes, it has been one disruption after another. From floods in Texas, Louisiana, Florida and Puerto Rico, to fires in California, the country of my birth has been travailed upon in the most severe terms. And that is just the acts of God, not to mention the hand of man, which has challenged our notion of democracy, liberty, equality and justice. Suffice it to say, on the social and political end of things here in America, we are in a virtual civil war. From the carnage in Las Vegas of concert goers to the massacres of little children in their schools, our civility and our moral core is faltering. And through this, families and friends who no longer talk to one another, for we are a nation of passion and opinion. We are also a young nation, showing our folly for all the world to see.

"I have no words..." - Calling on our global wine community to support Tony and Lisa McClung's Napa Fire Rebuild fund

Click here NOW to support Tony and Lisa McClung's Napa Fire Rebuild fund (organized by Claire Casey Brandani)

The world is filled with sorrow. But when it hits home, it hits home. One of our Italian trail-mates lost his home this week in the Napa fires, which are still raging. Tony McClung and his wife Lisa and their two young daughters lost most of their worldly material belongings, car and home.

Tony wrote this on his face book page along with the video above:

I managed to make it into our neighborhood yesterday, it was heartbreaking. Our house was completely destroyed along with 10 of our neighbor’s homes. A firefighter still on the scene said the fire came in very fast and very hot. Ash is all that is left. We were only in this house for 2 1/2 years but they will remain great memories in my mind.

Thank you to the many friends that have called and text during the fires, I wish it were better news. Thank you to the local friends for the physical and mental support. My community far and wide fills my heart.

It was a house... my home will always be wherever my family is together... we are together and safe.

Tony hails from Houston. And he is a dear friend of many of us in the wine trade. Natalie Vaclavik said it best:

When Houston was hit by Harvey, the first person to call to support was Tony McClung, his generosity & acts of kindness have been so instrumental in helping our city rebuild.

Today he lost everything. His house is gone and all his family's belongings were destroyed in the Napa Fire. Let's band together to help his family rebuild as he has helped us as fellow Houstonians.

People always ask "what can I do to help," directly making change is the way to impact. You probably don't know Tony but just giving the smallest donation can help build a new future for his family.

Please – here is something you can do directly to help someone with a face, a family and an urgent need.

Click here NOW to support Tony and Lisa McClung's Napa Fire Rebuild fund (organized by Claire Casey Brandani)

Give - Give - Give

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

The Navelgazer’s Last Tour of Italy

Swept away by an apoplectic American destiny in a red plane in October

Nothing above me, nothing below me - So I jump off

One more time, I’m on a plane going from Rome, Italy to America, and the young Gen-Z narcissist sitting next to me is being a dick. The latest generation of Ugly American to emerge from this isolated piece of land, which for the last 100 or so years has dominated the world’s attention. He and his family just spent a vacation in Italy. They bought the posters, bought the t-shirts (probably also bought the coffee mugs) and now he couldn’t wait to get home and see if his Buffalo Bills won or lost. This is going to be one helluva long flight…

The 2017 Harvest in Umbria and Tuscany - Fear and "Global Weirding" - Pt.II

Chianti Classico - O Brother, Where Art Thou?

We’re all struggling to seek, explain and unfold Chianti Classico in today’s world. Not a “cool” wine in the wine world, though a wine that millions of people know and love – hence the Catch-22 moment we find ourselves in.

And as well, our crew found ourselves within the Chianti Classico zone on a recent pass through Umbria and Tuscany. Here’s what we found at a few “classic” estates.

How do you solve a problem like Maremma?

For years, the aura of the Super Tuscan has reflected a masculine, testosterone-laden persona, depicting a “Magnificent Seven” persona. The world was presented with a portrait of the tall, dark and handsome Italian cowboy, an outlier, albeit with perfectly matching boots, belt and cape. It was a Kodak moment, riding off into the sunset with their luscious, masculine, amped-up rosso in search of a Maremmana to wrestle, rope and quarter and serve over an open fire - the perfect accompaniment to that big ,juicy Super Tuscan.

But there is a problem with spiked-up Super Tuscans today: they’ve become collector’s items for the super wealthy, locked away in secret cellars, occasionally resurfacing on an auction block in Hong Kong, London or New York. Some have gotten far removed from the emerging tastes of the upcoming generation (and those whose palates have evolved towards wines with less volume). They’ve become Bubble Boys, living in their own rarified orb.

The 2017 Harvest in Umbria and Tuscany - Fear and "Global Weirding" - Pt.I

Italian wine often arrives in a van loaded with emotion. Call me moonstruck from day one. As an observer over the years, there’s something about Central Italy that gets under your fingernails and into your bloodstream. And it ain’t in the usual places.

This year marks a cycle of sorts for this observer. Moved by the floods of 1966, I made my way to Florence five years later. In the summer of 1971 there were still signs of a deluge of Biblical proportions which ravaged the largest town in Tuscany. I spent days walking the narrow streets, huddled in the cool galleries of museums, and sampling the food and wine, on the streets. I fell in love every ten minutes.

Thank You, Italy

Echoes from the archives - Posted Nov 24, 2011

1) Thank you for the wonderful variety of your sparkling wines, especially the ones from Lombardia, Trentino and the Veneto. Franciacorta is a delicious wine for food, for pleasure and for more than just special occasions. Thank you for not thinking you have to be Champagne and forging ahead with your own sparkling destinies.

2) Thank you for the bright and mineral rich white wines of the Alto Adige and Friuli. I love your whites, whether it be Sauvignon or Kerner, Friulano or Sylvaner.

3) Thank you for the fruit driven Montepulciano wines from Abruzzo. For many of us who cut our teeth on field blends from California, Montepulciano is a taste that hearkens back to the roots of many of us reared in the West. And thank you when you let Montepulciano be Montepulciano; not Cabernet, Merlot or Pinot Noir.

As you age does your taste in wine change?

Echoes from the archives - Posted May 20, 2012

That was the question I posed on a Facebook months ago. I have been thinking about it for some time now, and doing active research.

In my life, I have to say, my tastes have ranged all across the board, like waves of appreciation. For a while I would taste all the Bordeaux reds I could get my hands on. And I developed a taste for them. But my diet, which ranges from low to no red meat, really doesn’t complement them. I also was into Rhone reds as well, and again, aside from the occasional spicy chicken on the grill or holiday repast, I found them hard to take on a regular basis. Not that I didn’t like them, it was more that I just didn’t have a lifestyle where these wines fit on a regular basis.

Stripped, Shocked and Surprised - Is There a Unicorn in the Cave?

Over the lifespan of this blog, I’ve written a post, on average, once every three days. For those who aren't familiar, they’ve developed into essays, around 800 words. With over 1,300 posts written, over twelve years, there are several blog posts that have surprised me in the way they have been received in the oenosphère, these unsuspecting Unicorns in the cave.

Making Wine Your #Life - And Making It Matter

We are now officially in the post-ferragosto dog days of summer. The kind of days where, if you walk outside to get the paper or the mail or jog around the block, when you come back inside you are soaked to the bone – and not cold soaked. A warm, mushy, oatmeal kind of smotheriness that doesn’t abate for several hours. There are reasons why grapes do not grow so well here in North Texas.

What does grow well, though, is the wine community. In the past week, 1,000 or so have braved the heat of North Texas to witness, during a long (ponte de ferragosto) weekend, a full-immersion of wine!wine!!wine!!! at Texsom 2017. Texsom has become a Big Thing, now entering the terrible teen years from its natural birth in 2005. There are many interpretations as to how it got here from there, but the reality is that there are hundreds of people who come to the event, and there are hundreds more waiting to get into the event. It is three days of critical mass, an introvert’s dread, an extrovert’s frat party, and for the rest of the folks, a time to soak up all they can about wine, reading about it, tasting and drinking it, rubbing shoulders with masters (and not just the ones with the letters after their name) and gazing into the light of aspiration. A dream, perchance to become someone who can make wine a Big Thing in their life.

The Sunset Somm – Tinkering Forever with Chance

“Start as a dishwasher. Become a salesman. Exit as an accountant. Sunset as ambassador. QED” – Joseph Spellman, M.S.

I read the quote above, from a most distinguished Silverback in the wine/sommelier world, and experienced déjà vécu. No, it wasn’t an allergic reaction to some Grands Vins sans sulfite or the newest, petulant Pét-Nat. It was the mirror of time – sans Dorian Gray. And it was strikingly accurate. So many of us who started out in the wine trade took this path. The progression was very much like a well-executed double play, performed once-upon-a-time, on a field of dreams. Loving wine, selling wine, mastering wine. Tinker to Evers to Chance.

Reflections on (almost) turning 50 – it’s the little things

Festina Lente

Steadfast upon this sweltering little orb in the universe, rotating in 24 hours at 1,000 limes per hour, moving around a sun at 66,000 miles per hour, in a solar system that is moving at 450,000 miles per hour, and in a galaxy that is barreling at 1.3 million miles per hour, one can't help but wonder what's the big dust-up over turning 50. 50 years is infinitely less in magnitude than a quark or an elementary boson. But it seems significant to humans here on an Earth propelled with an unthinkable velocity from the Big-Bang, billions and billions of years ago.

And so it was, one cool evening in the Pacific Northwest in July, surrounded by towering fir trees and observed by a family of Cooper’s Hawks, that we celebrated the almost 50-year-old’s life and death.

An Encounter in the Bardo - The Mentor and the Longtimer

Ex ante

Walking along a hiking path, on the edge of the continent and from the neighboring country to the south, the longtimer came upon a narrow valley. The temperature was a cool 66° F. The breeze blowing from the straits that separated the two countries was refreshing but brisk. The glen offered a perfect lull from the rigors of hiking and the possibility of a little, stolen nap. After all, the old hand had worked many years and this was kind of a vacation. It would also be a point of reckoning.

Once ensconced upon a picnic blanket, and after a light meal and a sip of fresh rosé wine, he slumbered. And the dream came. And inside the dream the messenger appeared. And as with all messengers, there was a dispatch. It was meant to review the old timer’s working life, this life in wine, and deeper inside the world of Italian wine than all the other wines. And as it was a dream, there would be no escape, until all the material had been transmitted. It was more like a Grand Jury.

The courier took the form of a mentor, long gone, but one who had a similar trajectory, only the generation before. So, while it was meant to be unfiltered, it wasn’t unkind. But it was frank, this review of one’s life in work.