Flash Point ~ Note to Italian Wineries about your WebSites

Stop setting up your websites with FLASH!

We don't need the whole story of your beginning, your mission statement, everytime we go to your site.

We don't need to hear your music and we don't need to have you take 1/4 of the viewing screen to make for a small little presentation.

We need to get in and get on with it!

Most of your Italian connections are still dial up.You lose them, too.

We cannot use your information to share with our clients
(i.e., your customers)

It's gotten old...It's not cute...Stop it!

Go back to a simple presentation....

S-I-M-P-L-E

Not P-A-R-T-I-C-O-L-A-R-E....

....S-E-M-P-L-I-C-E

Life's a Beach

Nearing the end of the Italian summer. Those of us who haven’t been there the whole time, all of August, have missed the miracle of summer in Italy. It is a special time when the world lets down its hair, puts the socks and the long pants and the ties in the drawer, and heads for a stretch of solitude, by a stream or by a sea, in search of a moment outside the compressed container of daily life.

And summer life responds. Tomatoes are bursting with flavor and their quintessential redness. Squashes are showing their stretch marks, as if their birth gives birth to another unique creation, which, in the hands of a food lover, will be not just another side dish. Watermelon slips into salads, appears in evening surprise fruit platters, shows up on the kitchen counter as if magically transported from another dimension. All of life is dancing and singing by the edge of the coastline.

Along a small strip of land in Tuscany, near Grossetto, a politician commits young men and women to pack their swimsuits and head to lands to protect people from each other. No more fear of the jellyfish or the sunburn, September’s reality calls. Minefields need to be cleared, towns need to be guarded, women and children must be cared for, their fragile bodies dangling from the line like so many beach towels.

It is becoming hard to imagine a holiday season of wine-selling with these unresolved items. It’s not like we can just redo the menu for the fall, rewrite a wine list, and everything will be OK.

Yesterday, in one of the offices I fall into, a high-level manager, says this: “Holiday time is upon us”, speaking of the march to Christmas and New Year. Yes, we will sell lots of red wine and Champagne, cordials and Cognac, beer and water, from all over the world. One holiday ends, and another looms. One war doesn’t end, yet a handful flare up, spring back into life, like the zucchini and the tomato. Another conflict pops up like the watermelon on the counter. It’s the stuff of life and the people in it. The cycle, the endless pattern of birth and death, seasoned with the salt and pepper of love and hate.

In ancient times, the wine trade often helped to fund someone’s dream to conquer a land far away. Today, that glass of Pinot Grigio or Sangiovese tamps down the daily anxiety after a day of hearing the chatter, the drums, the endless beating of the drums, near and far. And the jets, landing, taking off, flying low, dropping leaflets; buy my wine, read my blog, follow my dream. Read my lips.

Something seems to have fallen off track.

And yet the Italians take one more plunge into the Adriatic, grill one more fish over the open fire, draw one more bottle of wine from the rack, wish one more wish for love and peace and the hope for another summer in Italy.



Links -
Room to Read
Adopt a Minefield

Nero d'Avola in Another Light

Texas~Vineyards for Stone?

or Italy~Vineyards for Wine...

One week later, back in the warm Texas cradle of love. Our vineyards here have turned to stone, the heat has been so intense. But you didn't come here to listen to this. We need wine. We need happiness. We need freedom. "Let them drink Cakebread!"

Yeah, OK, whatever you want. Don't want to think about your big car and the war your grandkids will have to fight over the oil? No need to. We're in A-M-E-R-I-C-A. We put the I CAN back in AMER-I-CAN! It'll all work out. The other guy'll take care of it. It's been outsourced. Like the man said, it'll all work out.

Back on the plane and through all the gates and checkpoints, I found an alternate universe. Somewhere between the checkpoint and the final gate, there was a vortex, and I veared to the right. Once inside, things were a bit different.
At first I was thinking I'd made a mistake, but then I noticed it wasn't hot anymore. Or cold. I knew this wasn't San Diego (they weren't playing "that" music), so it seemed like a ride worth taking. Let's just call it the Sunday Spaceship.
There was a little horse pond with some words in Italian. We were somewhere near a lake, a body of water. This was all blending in together, emulsifying like an olive oil mayonnaise. What was this salad? Which wine were we opening today?

In a few weeks, this pond site in another dimension will host a conclave of Italian artists, Planeta's Viaggio in Sicilia. This is my alternate universe, opening up onto the Sicilian mindscape. A fabulous gathering: artists and Italians of all ages and artistic persuasion.

I'm in the mood to open a bottle of wine on this Sunday afternoon. As it should be the kind of wine to mirror the mood, the choice is narrowed to a Sicilian red. Why do I come back to this island? What is it there for me? A bowl of red, this sharing cup of my Sicilian soul?

Sandro Bracchitta - Segreta geometria 1

It must be Nero d'Avola, for this Noir-esque mood I'm in. The sun is burning down on my head, creating this inversion into a cool, dark, cavernous confluence of mood and soul, wine and spirit.

I'm staying in here for awhile. I won't be coming out. You know where to find me.

Links...some of my favorite Nero d'Avola wines

Planeta Santa Cecilia Nero d'Avola

Barone La Lumia Don Toto'

Morgante Don Antonio

Rapitala

T.G.I.F. ~ Thank God It's FRIULI

Today, while still on the Left Coast, we’ve just been to Wine Expo in Santa Monica, where the latest wines from Josko Gravner of Friuli have just been released to the public.
We have been lucky to secure a bottle of the Breg, which was my choice several days ago, to go with shark.

Gravner has been written about in so many places lately, suffice it to say, the wine was exceptional. We had it with a Williams-Selyem Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir Hirsch Vineyard , which was a treat for this Sangiovese head.

Over a meal in the Hollywood Hills, we sampled these wines with a wonderful plate of duck. My vacation is nearly finished. Today is Friday and it has been surrounded by Saturdays on both sides, part of the vacation space. A little more body surfing sans sharks.

W.W.W.S. ~ Which Wine With Shark

It’s Wednesday Week 3 – WWIII on the Pacific Coast - and we’re wondering, which wine with shark?

I have asked a few folks along the way for their thoughts, so short of a guest posting today, we will turn parts of this over to their ideas.

First, my rant must be paid.

I’m on a train from San Diego to Orange County. Here is where you can sometimes find signs of “early California”, the California of my childhood, the California of Junipero Serra and Fig Tree John. The California of scrub desert and coastal coolness, mission architecture and low-slung, arts-and-crafts dwellings. The California in my past has receded from the present but not from my heart. One of the reasons I cannot come back home, home isn’t here anymore. Tough thing for a native, one who grew up among the Agua Caliente and the Pala, who climbed Tahquitz and camped in Temecula, before the glossy winged sharpshooter real estate developers got hold of this special place. So, as long as the memory holds, I’ve got it here, inside. And that will have to do.


It’s Ferragosto in Italy, and here in Old San Diego, waiting by the tracks for the train, there’s’ a cool breeze. It’s slightly hazy and not too crowded. It made me wonder why I wouldn’t take a shorter flight more often and come here? There’s good wine and great produce, seafood is fresh and the living is casual, easy, relaxed. And the waves are better.

Yesterday. Low tide, seaweed and an advisory out for sting rays. Perfect weather for a swim. Along the California-Mexico border, we saw a family of sharks hugging the body-surfing lanes. And who’s to argue with them? But if they can eat us, we can eat them, too. But which wine to go with it?

Some of the folks submitted suggestions straight off, and some prompted me for the way we are going to prepare the aquatic beast. I’ve asked newspaper food section editors, wine importers, an exceptional chef who has one of the best restaurants in the country and is landlocked in Dallas, a gypsy freelance wine and food writer, a Master Sommelier, a Master of Wine, a bay area (SF) Italian restaurant wine director, an American turned Italian ex-pat who knows food and wine and the financial markets, and a few other folks. So it should be an interesting cioppino of ideas were simmering on the stove.

Michael Bauer sent this back. His was the first (and quite expeditious) response. Michael is the San Francisco Chronicle Chronicle restaurant critic, and executive food and wine editor. “The 2004 Lucia Pinot Noir goes with anything; it might even cover up the ammonia flavors in Iceland’s famous fermented shark dish.”

Sharon Hage, the chef and proprietor of York Street in Dallas, Texas ( the best little restaurant in America and one I can walk home from if needed), sent me this note. “Shark is one of those 'meat-fish.' The texture is so firm (yet not really oily) that, depending on the accompaniments, you could even do a light red. The meatiness of the fish also lends itself to more acidic or even fruit-type accompaniments (mango/pineapple). You may want to consider dry riesling or chenin.”

I asked Guy Stout, a Master Sommelier, to work with her suggestions, and here is what he came up with.
“Villa Maria Private Bin Riesling from Marlborough on the South Island of New Zealand: aromatic hints of peach and spicy yellow plum with a touch of chalky mineral, moderately dry with a hint of green apple, soft round texture on the palate, no oak is used, with a medium-crisp citrus length to the finish.”
“Burklin Wolf white label 'The Doctor' 2005 dry Riesling: ripe, rich with delicious stone fruit, peach, pear, green apple, slate, mineral... juicy man. The juice.”
“Ch d' Epire Savennieres 2004 from the Loire from Chenin is as lean and mean as Chenin Blanc gets, must have food.... Drooling is optional, or risk indigestion.”
And then on his own, Guy recommended these: “Depending on a sauce that is used, I would go with Lucien Albrecht Pinot Gris Cuvee Cecile, for the minerality and luscious round fruit and No Oak.... King Estate Pinot Gris - more fruit-forward and ripeness, with a bright crisp flavor of pear and plum, and again, No Oak.
Red wine: I would go with something that has firm acidity, but not too sharp. A Chianti Classico from Castello Monastero, or Perrin Bros. Cotes du Rhone Villages with a slight hint of cranberry and vanilla to lift the flavors without overpowering. Both wines are lightly oaked.”

Alice Feiring lives in NY when she is not on the Wine Trail somewhere in the world herself. She is a Wine/Travel columnist for Time Magazine and has won a James Beard Award for an article she wrote for the NY Times, to which she is a frequent contributor. We had a few notes back and forth, and she had a good question.

“Well, how are you preparing your shark?”

I sent her back 3 possible preparations. Her response was marvelous.
(1) Grilled shark steaks with soy sauce, orange and lemon juice marinade with garlic and parsley:
“A Rhone Village, something less intense than a CDP or Gigondas. A little floral, but with guts like a Lirac, or a Sablet, or a Seguret. Conversely, we could go north for a syrah...St. Joseph Offerus from Chave.”
(2) Shark steak au poivre:
“Probably either a Tondonia Rosé, or a Gravonia White from Lopez de Heredia....or a Loire Valley Cabernet Franc...perhaps a Chinon from Jean Raffault."
(3) Shark tacos - with chipotle, cilantro and garlic - cubed like kebobs, grilled and then prepared into tacos, with avocado, cilantro, lime and onion.
“The above choices could work for this as well, but also plenty of other fun choices: Muscadet from Pepiere or Jo Landron, a good solid Chablis from the 2004 or 2005 vintage, or the A&P de Villaine Aligoté.”
Thank you, Alice!

David Anderson, an American expat, Italian expat, now living in America. But his head, much of the time, is in Italy, and he had this to say about squalo (shark):
“Baked:
Tocai
Pomino Bianco
Don Pietro Bianco di Sicilia
"Cartoccio:
Rivera Ligure di Ponente Pigato
Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi
Regaleali Bianco di Sicilia
"In Umido:
Trentino Pinot Grigio
MonteCarlo Bianco
Etna Bianco
"Marinato:
Riesling Friuli
Acquilea Renano
Torgiano Pinot Grigio
Bianco d'Alcamo
"Aceto Balsamico:
Collio Bianco
Vernaccia di San Gimignano
Gravina”
David is an Amici dello squalo. Grazie, Davide!

While we are in squalo territory, let’s hear from Shelley Lindgren, the Wine Director of one of my favorite Italian wine and food spots in the US, A16 in San Francisco. Shelley replied,“I selected some wines for you to pair with shark. I think medium-weight whites with firm acidity, long finishes and volcanic minerality would be sublime:
Feudi di San Gregorio 'Campanaro', Campania 2004
Vestini Campagnano 'Le Ortole', Pallagrello Bianco, Campania 2004
Benito Ferrara, 'Vigna Cicogna', Greco di Tufo, Campania 2005
"I also selected some reds that wouldn't overpower the shark, but add a range of earthiness, structure, fruit and tannins. Plus, I recommended some wines I love and imagine would be ideal with the earthy, bitter and acidic capers:
Molettieri 'Vigna Cinque Querce', Riserva, Taurasi, Campania 2001
Marisa Cuomo 'Furore', Costa di Amalfi, Riserva, Campania 2001 (Aglianico/Piedirosso)
Palari, Faro, Sicilia 2001 (Nerello Cappuccio/Nerello Mascalese/Nocera)
Punica, 'Barrua', Isola dei Nuraghi 2002 (Carignano/Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot).

"I hope this is helpful. Let me know if you would like me to elaborate on any of these wines. It's really nice to hear from you. Besos from your honorary squalo, Shelley."

Much better a beso from Shelley than from a squalo. Great suggestions. Grazie Tanti!

Alison Smith is a pistol! She and Shelley are the next wave. Dividing her time among Texas, California, South America and Japan, Ali sent this in from her Bluetooth Corporate Hang Glider somewhere overlooking the Brazos River.
“Ahh, I just sipped a 2004 Schiopetto Pinot Bianco, so this popped to mind first. Pending the shark recipe, the Crios Rosé of Malbec would be lovely. It's a wonderful wine for heartier fish. For a red, a nice Barbera d'Alba might work - again, pending the recipe.”

Not bad considering she sent this while managing not to crash into Michael Dell’s house. Thanks, and besos to you!

Bill Watson had an excellent suggestion. Bill was one of the first wave of ambassadors who spread the Gospel of California Wine. He was one of the first who went out into the hinterland of America with bottles of Robert Mondavi wine. He is now a business manager for a portfolio of wineries at a large distributor in Middle America. But he hasn’t lost his edge. The poor guy does have to listen to me talk to myself a lot; we have cubicles next to each other. I try and stay out in the heat most of the time so he can get his work done. Thank you, brother, for bearing my rants.

Bill responded: "Itsas Mendi Txakoli 2005, made from 100% Hondarrabi Zuri grapes, a varietal native to the Basque area where this wine is produced. The nose of the wine is explosive, reminiscent of Sardinian Vermentino, herbal and floral at once, even a bit tropical. The palate carries this impression through and amplifies it, supported by vibrant acidity. The body is medium, but the complexity and length of the flavors create a big, memorable experience.

“The slight lemon zest in the nose and the crisp acidity on the palate would dance with lemon and capers as if life's script planned it that way! The shark would be extremely pleased just knowing it would be bathed in Sardinian oil and grilled over used Burgundian Never or Allier French Oak chips.”

Thus spake Zarathustra. Thank you Bill. Sounds like something for El Bulli or Etxebarri to tackle?

And Charles Curtis, an American Master of Wine, author and Director of Wine & Spirit Education for Moet Hennessy USA, also a young one, had these ideas: “Shark, huh? Well, a lot depends on the method of preparation and the accompaniments. It's a thick, meaty type of fish, though, and I think I would choose a broad, rich white wine without too much of a pronounced aroma. From our book (MH USA), I'm thinking the Friulano (my note: Tocai, soon not to be called that) from Felluga or the Terre Alte.

"You would also do quite well with the La Nerthe Blanc. Outside the book, I would look at a (dry) Alsatian Tokay Pinot Gris (maybe Deiss?) or a (dry) Pinot Gris from California (Hendry, maybe?).”

And my choice? "Well this seems to be a difficult food. The creature has no way to eliminate and hence has some gnarly uric acid buildup. I’d be a bit on the aggressive-angry side, too, if that were the case with me. Shark and wine? I’d vote for the Gravner Breg, a white wine with a soul as dark as the shark. Here’s a winemaker who, along with his son, turns philosophy into wine. And the Breg fits the bill with my chosen preparation, which would either be as a steak with capers and lemon and olive oil, or as an experiment in place of stoccafissa for the Portuguese dish, bacalhau."
[By the way, Eric Asimov wrote a very good piece on Gravner for the NY Times, if you have a subscription you can access the article here]

Thanks to all who responded. By the way, all but two of the folks responded. (my writer friend in NY, on vacation, and the other, an uber-blogger, who is probably too busy to join in this exercise and swim in the tank with all these luminaries and devotees of the wine and food world.) You folks were great! Let’s do this again! Anyone else who wants in, leave on comments, or email me, and I'll pop you in the tank with the rest of us.

So there you have it. Even on vacation, the beat goes on.

Fig tree John, my hero

From Canaan to Coronado

What is it about our wine culture these days? Has the hyper umbrella of the uber-media hijacked a culture that has been around for 8,000 years? When the folks in Canaan were making wine 4,500 years ago, generation after generation after generation, they effectively “got into” the essence of what we are seeking…some of us. What is this metaphor mean to you, to me? It must be Sunday, because Italian Wine guy is launching his rant from the space station. Or Coronado...

Early morning flight to the West Coast, the fear of no hair gel, no water, no contact lens solution, but we made it smoothly, quickly and safely. Days of hearing how the hassle, how the plotters, how the fear must be endless in our daily lives. As if being on the ancient plains and being chased by a tiger or a jackal was a walk on the beach? There has never been a guarantee of safety, of certainty, that we would make it through the day unscathed. But like our big trucks and our big guns and our bigger macs, we protect ourselves in some surreal-surround sound of delusion that this has always been the way it is and we must have it this way too. And white teeth, and green tea ice cream and 100 point wines.

In the lobby a wine tasting, Napa Chardonnay or Cabernet, some private label, some DbA…water into wine is still 86% water. And 100% oak. Asa Nisi Masa .

Today on the Wine Trail we are strolling along the Pacific coast as Fra Junipero Serra might have done several hundred years ago. The padres might be replaced with the yogi’s, at least that is my encounter on this warm cool crisp wet day on the beach.

You were looking for scores? Ok here’s my score for the day…Perfect…10…3 glasses..5 stars….7 brothers for 7 sisters. 100 points. Feel better?

This is like a scene in a Kubrick movie as co directed by Frank Capra and Groucho Marx.
Nice waves though…they can’t alter the tides yet.

So I was doing some work on telling the troups about a wine we are getting in our market, from a small producer in Tuscany by the name of Querciabella. The wine, called Batar, in homage to the great white burgundies of France, has some interesting fans. Out in Fort Worth I’ve been told of a C&W music star who wants “all he can get”. That’s a long ways from Willie and Hank and Lone Star Beer. Look up the word Batar on Google and push the “I’m Feeling Lucky” button. I wont even go into it here….see for yourself, it’s quite fantastic.

What was also fantastic was the multi course vegetarian dinner we had with the proprietor this spring in Verona during Vinitaly. The Batar was served in multiple vintages and the owner, Sebastiano Cossia Castiglioni, who is a vegetarian, launched his newly formed alliance with the Roederer folks at this event.

Many luminaries from the wine world were present, many sitting at the main table with Signore Castiglioni. Plenty of Cristal was flowing into the Burano Pimp cups. Yeah, I said that…

I wish I would have brought the family cat to the dinner, as he would have loved the scene. It was orchestrated and manicured down to the French tips. He, after all, is a vegetarian more often than he isn’t.

All this to say we have settled into this California vortex for the next week. I’m on vacation, so the pounding on the waves I took today is likely to have me speaking from a changed perspective

Let’s say Tsunami meets umami...stay turned on and tuned in.

T.G.I.F. ~ Thank God It's FELLUGA

“Words came so fast the typewriter caught on fire, and the computer was ushered in.”

...n tha land Friuli, where tha mythtacal Pico-lit vidiizzles, flowahs n caps `bout hizzle of it’s crop. Whiznat peches n chillin is tha butta . Whoa whasup? Sounds like mah post'n has been Gizoogled .

Let’s start this again….

The land of Friuli, where the mythical Picolit couches, flowers and scraps about half of its crop through some genetic fire dance. But what remains for the winemaker can be the ultimate expression of greatness. First a fire, then Snoop takes over my brain, now this computer has a tourettes virus? Is this week done, 'cause I am.

I started out writing this with the last of the Nonino Picolit grappa, and feeling that more inspiration would be necessary. When that was discharged, the rosolio of cannella from Sicily was brought in to stoke up the fire of illumination. Seems like my brain might be experiencing the same mutation that the Picolit must have in order for it to be so highly regarded. At least the wine will be treasured, as for moi, the old grey matter aint what it used to be.

It is Friday, and thanks to the most high for a brief respite. While this is just a little calm after the storm, let’s take a stroll on the Wine Trail in Friuli.

Between Gorizia and Palmanova, the Felluga estate bring forth their vinous children in a gentle and respectful manner. If you are in Venice, visiting the birds and the glass and the narrow alleys and just need a break back into the country, look this way. About an hour and you can be in the bosom of a beautiful treasure land. Gorizia reminds me of an Italian Havana, with restored architectural buildings of significant provenance and the occasional American automobile from an earlier time. That’s Josko Gravner tooling around town in his vintage Falcon.

Palmanova is a perfectly preserved star shaped citadel, a fortress town founded in 1593 to withstand any threat. In 1797 Napoleon walked right in without a sword lifted and proceeded to get the first good cup of coffee he’d had in many a moon. Only in Italy do these towns crop up like sunflowers. This one is must be seen and if you can be there on market day (Monday) there are many unusual Friulan delicacies. San Daniele Prosciutto, In August they have the Frico Festival, honoring a characteristic dish of Friuli made with potatoes and cheese and served with polenta. And there’s always the ubiquitous edible offal, Trippe, from the pages of la cucina povera. Finally, the wonderful Montasio cheese.

In between these two places one will discover Cormons. The Felluga foresteria and vineyards at Rosazzo situate themselves in the heartland of Friuli, the Colli Orientali del Friuli. Here is where the region has the greatest expression of local terroir, Colli Orientali, The Eastern Hills. To me they are akin to the vineyards of Margaux or Latour in Bordeaux, of Castelnuovo Berardenga in Tuscany or of Zeltinger Himmelreich in the Mosel. All very different wines from this little Picolit wine, so feeble the vines are here.
The grapes here, instead of the attack from botrytis are subjected to "acinellatura", a form of floral abortion that causes only 5-6 grapes on 30 to ripen. A single vine produces only 4 bunch of medium size grapes, even more sickly than D’Yquem.

I came upon an open bottle earlier this week when the Moet Hennessy USA director of wine and spirit education and Master of Wine, Charles Curtis, was directing a symposium. Late to this segment from an earlier commitment (the day job) Charles saw me and motioned me over to the tiny, soon to be orphaned, bottle of Felluga Picolit. I am a dessert wine lover and have too many of them in my wine room. It’s my Sicilian and Calabrese side, the side that loves sweet, the side that is enjoying this spicy rosolio from cinnamon as I write this in the wee hours ( so as not to interfere with the day job). I took a sip and a shizzle, oops that thing is back. This wine did a little number on me. There were goodbyes to be made, people to get to the airport, rush hour traffic in 100 degree weather, all kinds of distractions. So I took another small taste, made a mental note, and got back in the drivers seat.

About 2 hours later, when the dust had settled and I’m home, the jogging trail calls. Halfway though a run I notice something in the way I’m breathing, like there is a tree in bloom. No flowers in sight, I do this run 5-6 times a week. Aha, the lingering finish of the few surviving grapes pressed into the service of immortality! Finally the light of this fabled quaff shimmered on this solitary runner in the dusk.

Links

Gizoogled

Rosolio di Cannella

Gorizia

Palmanova

Felluga

Thank God Its Friuli!

WW II ~ Wine Wednesday 2

"Nebbiolo made like Amarone and Corvina made like Barolo, now that's a delicious Italian Paradox."

Wine Wednesday 2, WWII, the second Wednesday of this month. Italians are lounging on their boats, roasting on their beaches and I am obsessed with purity of flavor, clarity. I can’t get my pool to clear up. Why, amidst these august days of war, am I fixated on this?

Conversations lately with folks in and out of the wine industry. I know it seems like a little circle, and it often seems non-inclusive. That is if you feel shunned from a group of folks who are filling up their cars with wine, reps and itineraries and hitting their accounts in heat and humidity. Come on in, the water’s warm!

Last week, walking in Midtown Manhattan I overheard a couple of folks talking. One said, “This aint nothing! That weather they have in Louisiana is really hot! And humid, like hell!” At that point I was only 5 blocks into a 60 block walk, but I couldn’t agree with him.

A few years back, before Katrina, I was working with a legendary wine salesman in New Orleans, Mike Procido. Mike had so many parking tickets in the French Quarter that if he were to park there his car would get booted. So he parked in a lot and brought his two bikes, one for him and one for, well this time, me.

Riding around the Vieux Carré, on a bike with a wine bag, in August, in New Orleans, well, it was hot. And humid. But breezy. And a whole lot cooler than tramping up and down those subway steps with that same bag full of wine. But this is something that is going on everyday in our “exclusive” wine industry.

Block and tackle, a term I heard in a seminar yesterday. I also heard the phrase “luxury item”. So we have a 300 pound linebacker humping a barrel fermented cult chardonnay. Sounds fierce.
All this as a slow dance intro for the two wines this week that really grabbed me. Like that linebacker or that tow-boot in the Vieux Carré.

The wines
The 2001 La Poja from Allegrini
The 2002 Sfursat 5 Stelle from Nino Negri





La Poja is a parcel , a cru, in the Valpolicella classico territory. An almost Area 51 like situation on top of this hill, as if it had been white heat scorched and bleached, the image of this vineyard is so arresting. The wine, Corvina in purezza, defies categorization. It’s a big wine, bold, yes, all that. Made in the style of a Barolo in the land of Amarone. It’s a string quartet, it’s a master gem cutter, an artist of the perfume coaxing out that shy little fragrance. The bees in the vineyard are the most gentle in the zone. People climb the hill in the winter months to get a little peek at the sun, reflected off that chalky noggin.

The Sfursat 5 Stelle also ascends from lofty vines. Nearly impossible to harvest, Chiavennasca in purezza, the local version of Nebbiolo, and made in a similar manner as Amarone. One of the great wines of the world, Like Grange from Australia, Latour from Bordeaux, the lines to taste 5 Stelle at Vinitaly are longer than they are at the Sassicaia table. This is the Italian gateway to Shangri-La.

What both of these wines share is sophistication in celebration of their ripeness. Oozing lux, drawing the bees of our brain to the cup to gather the nectar for the flight home, home to the queen bee. What these two wines do is to defy the accepted perception of how wine is made in their regions. What we get on Wine Wednesday 2, with these wines, is a look into the soul of the artisan, the master musician, the essence creators.

Or as Lawrence Durrell once wrote, “They flower spontaneously out of the demands of our natures - and the best of them lead us not only outward in space, but inward as well.”

Go Ask Alice

Back from NY, back to the south and the west; everywhere and still nowhere at all. The idea of the wine merchant has been occupying my time, partly because it is in such a radical state of transition, partly because of the book I’m reading, and to a large part because of the market forces in play.

Friday I was scheduled to pinch hit for a supplier friend who was in the hospital on an emergency. The Friday wine staff seminar was all about grappa. Let me say, I’m not wacky about grappa, but a little but never hurt, especially if the meal had too much garlic or pepper, something that never happens in these forlorn backwaters. I arrived early to set up the grappa, the laptop for a possible PowerPoint presentation, tasting sheets, the whole kit and caboodle. What was I thinking? 13 grappas from Nardini and Jacopo Poli, two producers I had recently visited in Bassano del Grappa. I had been there; I had something to tell the servers on the front lines about, a selling strategy, a complete formula for success.

Only one problem, I was explaining color to blind people, sound to deaf souls, and taste to prairie dogs.

This is awful, feeling this way. I read some of the wine blogs and sometimes get a sense from some of the writers that they are above the rest of us folks here in the enoblogosphere. Some of them I have written to, sometimes with praise, sometimes with a question. I'm sure they regard themselves as the uber-bloggers, the rock stars of their world. They too, are important. Jeesh, they aren’t the Jefferson Airplane, though some of them do act like Grace Slick and Paul Kantor. Others, folks like Alder Yarrow and Regina Schrambling and David Anderson, are responsive, engaging and gracious in the communication. Thanks, on my knees, with gratitude, to them.

So when I burrow back into my borough and work on raising the ship and some snot nosed server who doesn’t know the difference between prosciutto and prosecco hijacks a serious grappa presentation with their ignorant whine that they “don’t like grappa” it’s all I can do to douse them with some Nardini and turn ‘em into burning man. Yeah, I’m pissed, going on 30 years in this colony and the somnambulisti’s rule as though they know what they are doing! Same as it ever was.....

Maybe it’s just the age I’m from and the age I’m showing, trying to impart something to these babies in the wine business. It’s not all numbers, but it is about making progress. 30 years is a long time to keep chopping in the woodshed. It’s time to light a bonfire, but where does one start? At the top of this food chain in the industry, the leaders are so bogged down that they rarely get word from the boots on the ground. The folks on the front line are there for a paycheck, a promotion, a career path. Who’s advancing the culture of wine? Which of the elephants are taking a chance on the tightrope?

Michael Bauer is commenting on high wine prices in restaurants and the comments he got (54 at this time) were all over the map. Restaurant owners explaining the high cost of operations, angry folks flaming over some minutiae, and on ad nauseam. Shoot the messenger, shout your talking points over the voice of the others, win, win, win. Glad that problem got solved.

Alice Feiring doesn’t have comments on her blog. She has a voice and ideas to convey. I’ve written her several times, she's been very helpful, very accessible. Alice has a great set of words as her intro when she writes, “I’m looking for the Leon Trotskys, the Philip Roths, the Chaucers and the Edith Whartons of the wine world. I want my wines to tell a good story. I want them natural and most of all, like my dear friends, I want them to speak the truth even if we argue.” Forget about points (100 scale and talking), forget about depletion allowances, forget about brand development funds, let’s just cut to the truth. Bravo, Alice!

There is coming upon the horizon a new stage of the blogger, some call it the super blogger. These folks will change the fabric, re-weave the threads of commerce, cause unknown entities to intersect and reconfigure in ways we can only imagine. But time is compressing, it’s heading this way faster than many of us will be able to see until it is moving through the station.

So the grappa was talked about, some tasted, the wine bufoon juggled the grappa pins in front of the wine babies, trying to get them to like the circus they are in and to not be afraid of the clowns. Maybe one or two of them got it. Hopefully, I gave them a grappa gospel that Poli or Nonino or Levi would approve.

Or maybe it will just be seen as a Catiline conspiracy that will be condemned by a present day Cicero.

What it is it what is has been for many moons….what moves it forward is ultimately the sell. Artfully, creatively, unceasingly. We will move forward, with or without you.

T.G.I.F.~ Thank God It's FALESCO

Ok so it's been a hot week all across the country and here comes the weekend, so it's time for my weekly T.G.I.F. posting... Today I'm thankin' God for Falesco Vitiano Rosato! And why not?

I'm getting delivery of my new Hasty Bake Charcoal Grill and I'm all fired up!

This moment of Rose' adoration brings us a lovely melange of equal parts of Sangiovese, Cabernet and Merlot from Umbria. With Riccardo Cotarella at the helm of his Baby, Falesco and his "made for pleasure tonight" brand, Vitiano, we've got it goin' on!

Salmon ( preferably wild and not from Chile or the Atlantic...for environmental reasons), pulled pork from happy piggies, Free range Chicken (on that charcoal grill), or a nice slab of Baby Back ribs.....Yeah!

What I love about rose' wines ( and I had one last night with my aunt at her 90th birthday celebration) is that you can have the cool of a white wine and the flavor and body of a red wine...Sounds like a merchant, yeah? And what's wrong with that?


BTW- I'm currently reading a great book about wine through the ages and the role of the wine merchant..I recommend it, highly!
Wine: The 8,000 Year-Old Story of the Wine Trade by Thomas Pellechia


Ciao for now!

Wine & War

It was reported today that the Wine Trail in the Bekaa Valley was in the middle of the fighting between Israeli and Hezbollah armies. This brought to mind all the many kinds of wars we have around us.

Earlier in the week I was back in New York for meetings, one of which was near my old neighborhood, Chelsea. At the old Nabisco Building, meeting with the Moet-Hennessy USA folks, in the meat packing district, flanked by Batali & Bastianich’s Del Posto and Colicchio’s CraftSteak, this area is not the depressing place it was many moons ago. Now it’s 140,000.00 a month rent for the Italian job and 29.00 for valet parking. And a bargain at that. World’s gone crazy in so many ways.

On my many walks across the city, one of my first stops would be the Chelsea Hotel, to see if my friend was doing ok. The Chelsea was a cheerier place than work or home at the time, I know. Pretty depressing.

The messenger who went into the World Trade Center building on Sept 11, 2001. His bike, his last message. Buildings bombed, people perishing…What on earth is going on?

On the recent walk, which started at 85 10th Street and ended at Park and 61st, I had an hour or so between appointments and thought to revisit some of the old haunts. 4 miles, no big deal. July, coat and tie. Comfortable shoes. Just the kind of gear for a war. Or wine education from the street level.

Along the way I looked up to see the giants, the Empire State Building and the Chrysler building. What kind of wine do the folks in these tall trees drink? A few wine shops along the way display some of the usual suspects from California and Australia; some even show a few from Italy and France. The good stores don’t show their good stuff in the windows. Inside Grand Central Station the shops with their artisanal cheeses and meats of Italian origin (or inspiration) reveal our insatiable desire for fresh, for special, for peace.

Far from the suicide bombers of the Mid-East, here in mid-town America, we can decide over Culatello vs. Copacolla.








or Sottocenere vs. Pecorino Marzolino.








Or a Castello di Monastero vs. a Chateau Musar.

We are at war, in our minds, with our neighbors, with our families. Look around you, turn off the Cable TV and see for yourself. A doctor, who took the Hippocratic Oath, suicide bombs himself and his house, in the Upper East Side around the corner from Sherry-Lehmann and Bottega del Vino. The war is not only being televised. It is now in your neighborhood, on your block.