Vinitaly Day 3 ~ Mishegas Impossible

“You like to walk fast,” @robbin_g tweeted. I was. It was crazy. This Vinitaly is so crazy, I’ll never get around to seeing all the people I have to see, let alone make time to “float” and check out what’s new. It’s an impossible dream, to actually do all one wants to or needs to do in a show like this.  Mishegas Impossible. And at the end of the day, my dogs were barking.

I guess trying to do all that and do a daily post is getting to me. And the marathon of meat, roasted, boiled, grilled, fried, cured. When I get back home, I’m tackling spinach, cauliflower, broccoli, lettuce. I promise.

So while this will be a short one, I have to tell you about a wine I found yesterday, and probably one of the most interesting wines I have seen in the show. It is red. It is sweet. And it is made from Montepulciano. And while folks who know me know how much I love the Nico from Illuminati, and I do, isn’t there always room for one more sticky? In my world, there is.

The meat platter at Cenacolo in Verona - eat your heart out, Texas Hill Country. The "grape soda" in Verona is better too

Note to Sausage Paul back home – this one is for you buddy. You are going to flip over this one. I did. And I know you'd love the roasted meat platter above, too.

The wine is called Clematis, from the Zaccagnini folks. Montepulciano is harvested in the vineyard and left to wither outside (note to nearby birds: stay away :). The sensation in the nose is typical of Montepulciano – grapey, a little of the darker berry fruit aromas. Inky. And then there is this little thread of exotic perfume that wafts up, ever so gently. It is saying, “go ahead, take a sip, it won’t hurt you.” Tempting. So why not take a sip, a little bite? And then the wine is tasted and this incredible array of flavors woven together making a whole new experience. I never use the word synergy, but that would describe whatever happened when I tasted this wine. I can barely describe it (my notes simply had “wow!), but I love, love, loved that wine. And I have had more than my share of great wines lately. (not bragging). Sulpizio Razzi (ok, now that’s a great name) and his daughter Carley Razzi (and a great wine industry name) met with me to present their wines. Sadat X is a fan (the f’up factor guy on YouTube - check out his special Zaccagnini award video). I’m a fan now too.


Ok, out of here, hope all is well at home. Hope my “editor” back home catches my grammar mistakes. I have a lot of quaffing to do. I could also use a new coif. And I could really go for a coffee right now, too. Buon lavoro, tutti!

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

Vinitaly Day 2 ~ It may be Friday, but it seems like Tuesday

“I’m here to do excellent business with your company as I produce fantastic wine!”

Dear friend Andrea Sartori nailed it - tired but happy

Holy Guacamole, I’m tired. It’s been two weeks now on the wine trail in France and Italy. I wanna go home. But we have just done day two of Vinitaly with three more to go. If this were a normal work week, it would be Tuesday. But it’s Friday, and Vinitaly has been a whirlwind of activity. Sitting with Andrea Sartori, the outgoing president of the Confederazione Italiana della Vite e del Vino-Unione Italiana Vini. He had just finshed lunch with the President of Italy, Giorgio Napolitano, and the governor of the Veneto, Luca Zaia. We were sipping his bubbly, Arnea, and all at the table commented that it feels like Sunday. Needless to say, we have all been busy, and we have a few more days to go. As we say back home, we’ve just started cooking!

Robert Bava of Cocchi Americano

The day started out with a quick stop to say hello to old friend Roberto Bava. Roberto is an “idea man” and he was excited about his aperitivo wine, Cocchi Americano. “Do bianchi,” he yelped to his son, and two glasses appeared. And in the glass went his concoction of the aperitivo , some orange zest and a sprizt of fizzy water. It was a great recalibrater for the palate. He then made another version with the Cocchi Alta Langa Blanc ‘d Blanc Metodo Classico. Always one for a story, Roberto recalled a promotion for his Malvasia wine in a sports stadium in South Korea. The idea was to get everyone who had a date to kiss and then to get themselves on the big screen in the stadium. Those who got their kiss recorded in the crowd would win a bottle of the wine. “Can you imagine a whole stadium of people kissing? We had to get the permission of the president of Korea! Sexy Malvasia wine from Italy!” Good job, Roberto.

Special Dee-livery: Courtesy of hard working winemaker Roberto Voerzio

Down the hall in the Winebow office, a landmark meeting place, I was hunkered down tasting through a series of wines, when who but Roberto Voerzio rolled a two wheeler in. He was making a Hot Shot deliver ( as we call in the trade, unless you’re in ATX, where they call is an SPU, sales pick-up). Roberto was happy, animated and ready to talk. I had never seen him at Vinitaly or like this so we stopped and chatted him up. Always the innovator, he pulled out his cue card, something he did for fun and read to us, “I’m here to do excellent business with your company as I produce fantastic wine!” Yes you do, Roberto, we love them and it was great seeing you on the wine trail.

My notes have me tasting close to 100 wines on day 2 and my palate got a little scorched, going from Tuscany to Sicily to the Veneto to Piedmont and Abruzzo, and around and around, one more time. One more time. Awesome day. And that was just the wine. So a little about the food too, for my restaurant professionals back home.

Lunch was a multicultural affair, hosted by Il Borra and their noted and very talented young sommelier, Luca Martini, and chef Roberto (it has been the day of Roberto) Bendinelli. One of the most creative dish presentations I have seen at Vinitaly was his ravioli, which was “plated” in a bottle, a magnum, cut in half and served up with the logo cork of the winery. It paired well with the always smooth and delicious Il Borro wines. My table was international, people from Italy, Hungary, Germany and Scandinavia. The wine and food was Italian – the common language was English. But that’s a whole ‘nother story. Greatness.


At the Illuminati stand later in the day, I met up with old friend Tony McClung, sharing a glass of Illuminati Brut, when legendary cheese maven and Slow Food legend Enrico Fracassa appeared with an amazing platter of his Pecorino Infossato & Ventricina Teramana dei Monti della Laga. Oh. My. Goodness. I know I sound like a kid in a candy store, but being part of a cheese movement back home, this was like going to the mountain top. I only wish my friend Paula Lambert back home were here for this. I will go visit Enrico, very soon, and again, that’ll be a whole ‘nother story. Tony was in Pig Heaven as the Ventricina is essentialy a crostini of pepper and a special kind of pork. Needless to say it went down real well with the imcomparable bubbles from dear friends at Illuminati. Funny vignette – when Enrico showed up at the booth, winemakers from Abruzzo and journalists poured into the stand – it was like Enrico is the Pied Piper of Pecorino. Patienza, I’ll get to it. Soon. I promise.

Finally, we ended our day with the kind folks from the Dievole winery. We met at the famous Le Cantine de Arena, the brasserie downstairs. In all my years coming to Verona and Vinitaly this place is legendary. But I had never been. The “master of the fire” is a larger than life fellow. Sweet guy. They bring these "Texas sized" platters of meat out on a sizzling plate that’s covered with a conical shaped dome with a hole in the top (food mavens, please, tell me what this is called? Tagine/tajin is what my friends wrote back). It was a mellow finish with new and old friends and the spot-on wines from Dievole. And that too is another blog post. I need to go there and meet the cat who only eats steak. The doggy bag we loaded up for him was easily 3 pounds worth of steak. And yes, I totally blew my diet on this day.



And that’s the way it was. More to come!

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

Vinitaly Day 1 ~ The Pavilion of Dreams

Two of my favorite chaps under the Tuscan Sun are related. Ugo Contini Bonacossi and grandson Leone are probably a lot more alike than even they realize. Ugo, now 90, was an engineer and traveled the world. But he came home to guard the patrimony of Capezzana for future generations. He remade his life and is an historical figure for Tuscany, Cabernet and the Super Tuscan phenomenon.

Young Leone is an artist. But family history compels him to fly the flag of the family and protect the historical capital of the winery.

When Ugo was a young man, off he went into the world. But the land, and the times, brought him back. Let’s say it provided him with a focus that previous generations had worked to build. For a family to have something that can be traced back hundreds of years is no easy task.

Young Leone is in that same position now. He has come back home. He has the soul of an artist. Ugo has the soul of an engineer. Both men have had their lives shaped by the land and the estate they call Capezzana. Ugo, and the succeeding generation have worked through the most intense period in history for Italy and Italian wine.

Now Leone has been shown the lithographers stone. It is now his time to forge his impressions over the next generation and take the place they call Capezzana into the future for the next generations.


No easy task in any time, for a young man or a young woman, with dreams and desires of their own. But a dream many a person would love to have the opportunity to pursue.

Just one of the many wonderful stories in the pavilion of dreams we call Vinitaly.

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

Throwing Umami (Blogging) from the Train

I got a couple of notes and tweets over the night, seems I have gone off the rails with my stream of consciousness meanderings of late. So, I will fire Conan and bring back Jay. Actually the next five days is going to be a blur, what with all the meetings and goings on at the latest Vinitaly #44.

So I’ll leave it with a few pictures and keep the deep thoughts off these pages for a while. I reckon that looking at a woman for an hour on the train from Milan to Verona and then writing a quick allegory on the state of Italian wine could seem (to some folks) “sad that I paint the woman that way”. Sorry Mary Ewing, it was just an exercise, part of the non linearity that I learned from Bucky Fuller. But thanks for tweeting in. I’ve had my Master of Wine check. Always nice!

Guy Stout chimed in from the Master Sommelier department. He also sent me a note about the last post. I wish you were here Guy. By the way, Guy is the consummate tester and he was the only one who wrote in with the correct answer to the visual quiz we had on that post. It was D – Veneto. Thanks Guy!

Speaking of the Veneto, I have to get on my best suit and “git” to the Pavilion – we have a seminar today with Franco Ziliani and I cannot miss it – Sorry Luca Zaia, I’ll miss your speech in the next room, we’ll have to meet later and drink some Mascarello, which I found very reasonable priced for vintages from the 1990’s – all under €80.




One last stab. When I went to Vinitaly to get my pass yesterday, they handed out a satchel. First they handed me a white one, which just wouldn’t work. So I asked, politely for a brown one, or so it looked like brown under the green fluorescent lights. But the official behind the counter made sure, in her finest Veneto-Zaia to correct me. “Non é marrone, é Bordeaux!” she quipped. Well I just came from Bordeaux (see my official invite from Pétrus, pronounced Pet-ruhz, not Peh-troos) and conosco I miei Bordeaux. And that is no Bordeaux, Madam.

I got a girl name of Boney Maroney
She's as skinny as a stick of macaroni
Oughta see her rock'n'roll with her blue jeans on
She's not very fat,
just skin and bo-o-one

written and, more importantly, photographed, by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy

Strangers on a Train

Triste è quel gioco, dove si teme il fuoco.

She looks out the window as the train speeds to Verona. Her mobile battery is dying. The little wrinkles at the edge of her mouth are showing, the collagen treatments no longer reach to the corners. Her hair is coiffed but fashionably messy. She has dark glasses on, the fashionable ones that have the gold logos on the edges of the lenses, guarding the eyes like a pair of lions. She is bored to death.

She was probably a beautiful young woman, but the excesses of affluence have erased the character from the face leaving only a hollow attractiveness. She was born with good genes, though, and all the gold and silver talismans have protected her from bulging out beyond her fashionable black dress. But she is not happy.

She has lost her significance. Sure, she is wealthy and she skis in the chic spots of Switzerland and France and summers in Sardegna or Panarea. But she doesn’t have anything to live for. She has no purpose, other than to assuage the desires and the whims of her husband and children. She is getting desperate.

One can only put on so many pretty clothes, perfume and jewelry. And then something deeper must kick in. And so it is with our dear Italian wines. Revved up fruit, charred wood and fancy labels can only take the industry so far. There must be something deeper, call it character for lack of a better word. But as our lady is finding out, none of us can escape the scythe of time, and if we wish to contribute a deeper meaning to the history of life and wine in Italy, it won’t come by hiring the best wine consultant to run your winery or the best chef to run your kitchen. It will take some heavy lifting and a desire to be part of something greater than one’s own self.


It isn’t enough to just be a millionaire.

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

How to Make a Fortunate Life

Whether you love it or loathe it, Bordeaux is a vibrant crossroads for young men and women looking to make a life with meaning. Regardless of the haranguing, the gnashing and wailing of the pen quills and the cursers, whether the Bordeaux ‘09 is worthy of stratospheric prices, there are folks on the ground who see a whole ‘nother view.

Two views here – from the East and from the West, both involve young women, looking forward to a future where their life has some significance, a meaning their own country cannot supply.

The young chemistry student from the Ukraine, studying in Pessac. Her once bountiful country now a mess of political corruption, in transition. She told me one telling story – they have to buy potatoes from Poland. How can one imagine a country, larger than France unable to even co ordinate the growing of one of the easiest and most basic things? She has chosen to live in France, for now, though she tells that they will never accept her. She is fluent, but foreign, her language isn’t perfect. “Even the people in Cognac complain that the way they speak French in Bordeaux is wrong.” That said, she sees the opportunity to be in a place where she can carve out a life, a place, perhaps even someday in the labs in Bordeaux?

To come to a country, where the language is so essential, not being able to speak it – that takes guts. How many of us sitting in front of our computer screens sipping our medium roast coffee in a room that is climate controlled, which of us with all our little complaints can have it so bad that we have to uproot our life , totally, in order to go forward?

“Would you like to go back someday?” I ask her. “Of course,” she touches her heart, “that is a part of me inside.” But it might be more a matter of if, not when.

She is young, pretty, healthy, intelligent, speaks four languages. She will make it in a world with six billion and counting. But, like so many of us in the West, she wants a life with a connection. She lost it, moving to France, to forge a life of meaning. The attachement will come later.

The other young lady from China, dressed tres chic as if she just came off the runways of Paris or Milan, lives in Hong Kong. Have you noticed Hong Kong is a pretty fashionable place these days? I remember the movie, In the Mood for Love, the women were so beautiful, tall, lanky, dressed gorgeously. Imagine something like that.

When she stepped in the room, everyone who had eyes and a beating heart lost their breath for a moment. She made a striking entrance. She was looking for her love, Ausonius. She was in the right place. How do you say it, she was in a beatific moment? She was having one of those moments when ecstasy upon and into her. I was tasting the same wines, it was easily understandable.

But all poetry aside, I had to talk to her, ask her why she was here. I read a Jancis Robinson tweet that she hadn’t seen any Chinese at the Primeurs 2009 tastings. I had seen plenty of them. I don’t know if they were just on the same route as mine, but I was going to talk to one that seemed simultaneously representative and atypical of the Asian Wave.

She was very approachable, spoke English well (easy for me, essential for the new Global professionals?). “What are you doing here,” I ventured to ask. “I love Bordeaux, working in Hong Kong for a UK wine company.” She was smitten with the spectacle of it all. She was part of the pageantry. And the ascendancy.

Jane Anson (@newbordeaux) tweeted, "Three years ago, 30% of Mouton Rothschild ended up in Asia. Today, that figure is 45%." That’s a lot of eggs in one basket. Or is it? With a potential clientele of 50,000,000, that being the middle-upper-middle echelon of China, perhaps looking to the East isn’t such a bad idea. For our young lady, one of 1.2 billion, it is surely a way for a smart, motivated young person to look for a career far from the factories that make plastic baskets for laundry. Becoming significant in a sea of humanity, isn’t that what all of us imagine for ourselves?

I hear people say that the Asian culture doesn’t dovetail so well with the wine culture. Rich, heavy Merlot and tannic Cabernet, sitting in barrels for years. High in alcohol, expensive, taking years to mature. Maybe years before the trendy wines will be abandoned in favor of Riesling from Germany or Chardonnay from the Cote d’Or? Or Pinot Noir, like our stateside and Sideways phenomenon has produced? It could be a mess for Bordeaux.

I wouldn’t worry too much about this very established wine center. The Bordelais are smart; they are opportunistic, as one young winemaker told me. This isn’t their first rodeo, as we say out West.

But for our two young ladies from the West and the East, and for those young and young at heart, this is deliverance to a new world of options and freedom. And the possibility of a very fortunate life.

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

The Day after Easter is a Holiday in France and Italy

It seems the trains don’t always run so frequently on the day after Easter in both France and Italy. So, once again I have been "stranded", this time in the Haute Savoie in Le Chinaillon. Pity.

I am researching the Pre-Alp wines of the Savoie, and today we had to go to two Chalet’s and try two Apremont wines. Same producer, but curiously two different bottle types and two different levels of alcohol. At the higher altitude, the chalet had the lower alcohol one. It could only be reached by ski, snowboard or cross country hike.

My face is now well tanned for sunny Vinitaly. This is the first time down I have had since September and I barely know what to make of a day or two of leisure. But I will endure. If only for the cause of researching the wines of a country I am less familiar with.

Fear not, my Italian wine lovers; I will soon get back on the wine trail in Italy. Until then, the Savoie is getting one closer to the source.

Again thanks to my gracious hosts, Wink and Brett. Mondeuse, anyone?

written and photographed on the sunny slopes of the french Alps by Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy

The Italian Fork in the French Road

All last week in Bordeaux, there was plenty of French wine. But occasionally the stray bottle of Hungarian or Bulgarian wine would pop up on a table. One day we tasted a round of wines from a negociant whom we work with very closely and I saw a fellow at a table with a bottle of Italian wine. Giampaolo Motta from La Massa in Panzano was there with his wines as part of the collection of the French oenologist Stéphane Derenoncourt and his stable of estates that he consults for.

Stéphane’s partner, François Thienpont and his sister Bernadette Thienpont had us in their suite at Stéphane’s event last week in Bordeaux. Great people both of them, very sharp, friendly, savvy people. I like them. François reminds me of my Italian friend Eugenio Spinozzi, in utilizing personal relationships as the foundation of their business in a way that feels not pushy and very, very hands on. Bernadette, as well, follows this very personal approach and they really are, to me, the poster children for how to build your business with French (or Italian) wines in America.

Giampaolo Motta from La Massa

Along with consulting for clients like Stephan von Neipperg’s, one wine of which is the "super cuvée" La Mondotte, Stéphane Derenoncourt started working as a consultant for the Italian estate in Panzano, La Massa.The La Massa wine, very dense and fruity (I reckon part of the signature of Stéphane), was a quick break I made from the 2009 Bordeaux wines. It didn’t feel like too much of a leap, perhaps the wine being so young has something to do with it. My concern is that the wine does not lose its identity, which in Panzano is so unique.

We shall revisit this wine at Vinitaly. My hope is that this wine and winery has not been too finely tuned. But as one might be able to tell, I am a bit skeptical. Just being candid.

On another note, I love how in France they allow just about anyone in the trade. What I wouldn't give to have the kind of nose that little chap has, eh?

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

I'm Dreaming of a White Christmas Easter

The wine trail from France to Italy leads through Savoie. Almost Italy. Un po.

There are a few more posts on Bordeaux coming, but it is Easter and don’t we all have to take a few moments to rest up for what is coming? Italy and Vinitaly looms, and there will be 6 days of nonstop work in the Pavilions of Verona. My mom is reading this and feeling no pity for me.

My hosts, Wink Lorch and Brett Jones, have rescued me from work. Two wine professionals who have found this wonderful, beautiful place, Chinaillon, a small village in the French Alps (Haute Savoie). I am taking a crash class in the wines of Savoie. Studying very hard. Lots of research. Cramming it all in. Wink is the world's expert in the wines of Savoie, so I am in good hands. And Brett is a wonderful raconteur and quite a good chef. Thanks so very much to both of you wonderful and patient souls.

Quickly, the wines of Savoie are quite interesting to me, seeing as I love white wine so much. But I am seeing small similarities with the wines of Valle d'Aoste, especially in the way the two regions organize their quality wines. Some similar grapes, but also a huge attention to the indigenous grapes unique to the area.

Seriously, I am taking a few days to let down my hair and catch my breath, and it has been the first time I have done so since September.

Chinaillon is home to Reblochon. Down the road the cows are working inside the rustic chalet that share the hillsides with weekend getaways and ski slopes. It is a busy time here for the cows and the leisure seekers alike.

A few pictures, that’s pretty much all you will get from me today. Happy viewing and Buona Pasqua, y’all!

Keeping it French for a few more days with Vin Jaune and Englegarten

Night shot - hand held

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

If you're gonna get stuck at an airport hotel, Bordeaux ain't too shabby

After a week of 12+ hour days, driving from Bordeaux to the Medoc, and then to St.Emilion/Pomerol, and finally to the Pessac/Graves area, we headed to the airport for our flights out. My companions made it to Paris (they texted me at dinner) but my flight to Geneva was cancelled. No explanation. Barely enough information to figure out the next move. But what the heck. At least I was in a wine town. This is very do-able.

They shuttled me to a hotel, nothing special. So I decided to take the down time and catch up on exercise and sleep. A long run took me to a shopping center, looking for tomato seeds for a grower back home. I really must post about this experience, because if you know your chickens (and I know my chickens), there is some meat there. But I am flying out soon (hopefully) and must get going.

There was a wine blogger get together in Bordeaux last night that I was planning on going to, but after the run I was done in. Sorry folks, I really wanted to make it, but stanco morto was I.

The good news is that the hotel restaurant was probably better than most dining experiences I have back home. And that again is another post, one which most likely will land me in the poaching pot.

Along with that they had a marvelous little wine bar, which was but a few steps away from mon chambre.

Good food, good wine, internet connection, rest – I can deal with it.

The other good news is that I bought flight insurance. Now if I only had my lawyer here to translate the legalese in French and (Proper British) English.


"C'est la vie"

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