Merry Christmas...

...and here's to a Happy (and Bubbly) New Year!

That's one of the new Prosecco DOCG's, Conegliano-Valdobbiadene, from Montesel - a small  grower who makes a lovely wine.

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

A Day in the Life...

...of a fool

Where are we? Two days before Christmas? And here I am running around with wine in the back, my apron and box cutter, my camera, running, running, searching for meaning in this little foolish life off to the corner of a country in the middle of nowhere. On the radio, Diane Krall begs, Besame Mucho, while her guitarist (Anthony Wilson?) strums softly in the background. Is that what it is we are merely doing, strumming softly? Perhaps keeping the beat until the beat is no longer beating… OK, OK, I wont get all Irish and maudlin on ya. There are some fun things happening too. And it is Christmas.

Today really was such a wonderful day. A quick trip to the office to check in, make a few notes, get ready for the Vino2011 event in NY in a month (I’ll be on a panel there) and then a couple of quick meetings. And back onto the streets.

Italian Wine and Food Business is booming in Flyover Country!

Yeah, you can laugh at "them Texans" with their funny accents and their big hair, but where in America can you find, on the Monday before Christmas, a restaurant doing a wine dinner that packed the house? Had to turn people away? On Football night? Basketball too? Did I say it was the Monday before Christmas? And the first night in 456 years since we last had a total lunar eclipse?

Well, the friends of Salvatore’s Gisellu’s smashing success, Urban Crust, located, in all places, old Plano, they came, they drank and they ate. And ate. And drank some more. And with long tables like that I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them got up on the tables and starting dancing!

Contemplating the Next Move

Maybe it is because we are nearing the end of another year. Or because the last five months have been so very busy. Perhaps it is the new look of the blog that has caused me to think about this. Or maybe this is just overindulgence from one who thinks too much about this. I don’t really know.

What I do know is this- the world as we know it, as we all know it, is our own little unique world. And everyone has one. Some of us have bigger orbits; some of us have more mobility. A few of us have means to make their world bigger than others. And many more of us have a world that has been handed to them, in an instant, and with little time to plan. And here we are, all together, but separated by our skulls. And so we aren’t really all together. We just live on the same funny little green planet. More by accident than design.

I have been writing here at On the Wine Trail in Italy for almost five years now. I have met new friends, made new acquaintance, widened the network. It has been a good run.

And no, I am not signing off or taking leave. Or at least, I don’t think so. But I am contemplating the next move.

PASO

“If I had not come to Rome I would not be who I am.” So it was with pain I read the words of a friend who lives in Rome, writing that she heard explosions in the city. The passages of time as the parade winds through the ancient alleys of a town we all owe so much to. Yes, I am back on the trail in Italy, but not yet back to wine.

Tonight I am drinking Champagne, white, rose, light, full, and the pace of life stalls as the actors stop and wave to the crowd before the float takes them into another alley, another time. The world’s longest parade has been Rome, and we all have a part of her inside us.

Traffic Cone and Cannolo Porn - Starting the year end wrap-up

One traffic cone, two traffic cones ~ Traffic Cone Porn

I started going over 8,000 photographs from the year. After getting through January and February, I decided to procrastinate. Along the way I found these shots. Just a random offering of images that somehow seem to fit, albeit very loosely. I’m feeling a little risqué, in a laid-back on-the-couch kind-of-way. Anyway, just a little lagniappe. Enjoy.

Good Enough For Now

I’m so very sorry. I seem to have fallen off the wine trail, once again. I don’t know what to tell you. I know you want to know more about where to visit in Tuscany, or which are the best 2007 Barolos on the market. But I’m not able to fulfill those needs. I have been distracted. By life. By work. By the here and now. And here we are entering the mainstream of the holidays, so most likely there will be more of this from these pages.

In five years, the wine trail has gone through Italy, often. But life isn’t all about wine. Or Italy. I love the place and the wines, don’t get me wrong. I just have a larger world that I have been handed. And not a lot of time. So there you have it. Welcome aboard or bon voyage.

New Look for On the Wine Trail in Italy

After five years and countless html fiddling around with this site, I figured I should oughta change it before it becomes a “classic” site. Anyway, just something I have been working on, figured the blog needed a fresher look. I’m still working out some of the kinks, but if I didn’t put it up today, it might have sat in the developer’s box for another five months. So here goes. Hope you like it. The photo above was made in Panzano, Italy, the vineyards of Castello di Rampolla. I shot the picture about four years ago when I visited the place.

Thanks for reading and following my writing on (and sometimes very far off) the wine trail in Italy, and anywhere else my eyes and heart do roam.

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

Mercury on a Rising Mississippi

Was I in Paris? Palermo? Havana? Walking along a dark street on my way to a dinner appointment I was reminded of the day that had just unfolded. December in an antique of a city. Cold, misty; still hazy from a million nights of hedonism, chastened by a river.

I started with Sherry, a Fino. It seemed to be a good choice with the amuse bouche of candied pecan, Rio Star grapefruit, lying in a mousseline of bacon. A little micro greens thrown on the top, it looked like a deconstructed Christmas tree, and it did match well with the salty sips of the Spanish wine.

New Oil

Another year has come and vanished. Another harvest. And the new oil is now here. New oil, showing us the promise of the harvest in its sharpest, youngest, most fiery expression. Lovely stuff, as long as you just taste a little bit. Not too much.

Batting .333

It never gets easier. 30 years doing this. Someone forgets something. Like history, for example. And then, there we are, back at the starting gate, back at 1980. Holy cripes, this stings, like a brush-back fastball that veered into the crotch.

But I'm batting 1 for 3, which is better than Derek Jeter did last year. And look what he’s holding out for. Maybe the glass 1/3 full is good enough? Do you really want the details? I guess I better get this confession going.

Brooms that will bring tears to your eyes

Yesterday we traveled south of Dallas to Elm Mott, Texas (somewhere in between Italy and Austin, Texas), for the Annual Thanksgiving Homestead Craft Fair, held at the Brazos de Dios, a 510-acre homesteading community. There are many articles about this place and if you ever travel from Dallas to Austin or San Antonio or Ft. Worth on Hwy 35, you should stop and pay these wonderful folks a visit. It is a religious community, but these folks aren’t there to lay any trip on you. They settled from the east coast some time ago to live a life closer to the earth and to worship in a way they so desired.

Alison Miller recently wrote a piece in the Dallas News, Rediscover lost arts at Homestead Heritage's Brazos de Dios, the reason we day-tripped down to Elm Mott. It’s a great read.

Just a few shots after the break. The brooms were amazing. Their almost mystical connection to something that was once a living, flowering plant, that now has a new life. They mesmerized me and got me to thinking about the way we use products in our daily life. When was the last time you shopped, after Thanksgiving, and really found something made with love to give to your loved ones? Enough of this though, the pictures. Happy Sunday!

Ya feel me DOGG?

from the "I tell the truth and I know what I’m talking about" department

In an amazing turnabout, the European Community has decided to immediately suspend the integration of Italian wine appellations into the PDO (Protected Designations of Origin) system. Last minute negotiations between the EU and Veneto President Luca Zaia have been reported and there appears to have been an 11th hour change. Reports have it that actor and record producer Cordozar Calvin Broadus, a.k.a. Snoop Dogg and President Zaia have formed a promotion company in the Veneto to realign Italian wines to fit a "more youthful and energetic" profile. The designation will immediately known as D.O.G.G. and the first designees, 13 of them, will receive the highly coveted denominations at a ceremony on Asolo on November 31, 2010.

Beyond the Aurelian Walls

So you’ve had your Roman holiday. Seen the sights. Taken in the Vatican Museum, the Baths of Caracalla, the Borghese Gardens. Touched the Pietà. You’ve driven on the deserted streets of Rome before the sunrise, past the empty and brooding Colosseum. You’ve had her, Rome. Now what?

As all roads lead to Rome, all roads lead out of Rome as well. Spin the dial, any direction will do.

East? Marche, Abruzzo.

South? Campania, Basilicata, Calabria.

North? Umbria, Romagna.

West? Sardegna, Maremma.

Does it really matter? If you are a trophy hunter, it does. You’d have to go to Tuscany or Piedmont. Maybe the Veneto. Find a stash of Barolo or Brunello, dig in the cellars, among so many Bentleys, parked, waiting to be driven around the table.

My Funny Roman Valentine

Rome, ah, Roma. Three times this year I have slept in your arms. Three times we’ve met, if only for a moment. Still, you remain eternally young and ancient at the same time.

Rome is a childhood sweetheart of mine, whom I stay in touch with, if only from a distance. When I was younger, Rome was like a grandmother to me; large, imposing, wise, ancient. As I spent more time in Rome, she became a mother, a lover, a friend, a muse. Rome, all these emotions over a city that will never know I ever stepped in her shadows.