Quattromila Diciotto ~ Giorni e Notti

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Photo by Domantis

Great Meal Moment: "Feed me! Feed me!"

Folks who know me know I’m not a BIG MEAT kind of guy. I’ve been steadily progressing back to my hippie days in the ‘70’s, when the life was simpler, more natural and meatless. But in Italy, that’s a different story.

After a harrowing couple of days in the Langhe, what with the snow and ice and the hassle of getting down the hill we made it to Franciacorta-land. Wonderful respite from the cold. I missed a couple of meals too. So when our host, Alberto, recommended we go to their Tuscan styled restaurant near the hotel, my colleague and I were game. And what better way to unwind from a whirlwind trip through the frozen tundra of the Langhe than to share the classic steak of Tuscany?

Great Meal Moment: "I'll have what she's having."

One of the best things I have ever had was this simple dish of pasta, filled with a light cheese, and topped with a little butter and dusted ever so delicately with cheese. I think it was the “Il Plin” con la ricotta di pecora da Murazzano e burro d’alpeggio. I wasn’t paying too much attention when they brought the dish, which was served to me on my recent trip to the Langhe at Locanda nel Borgo Antico in Barolo. Only to say I had a “When Harry met Sally” moment when I first tasted the ravioli. Absolutely perfect in every simple way a pasta should be.

Recognition

There are many people who have dreams and once in a while their dreams converge with yours. It isn’t really anything more than water in the river, but isn’t it a good thing when one is recognized for their efforts? Brian Larky is one of those with a dream. And when I met him in the very early 1990’s, I honestly thought what he was talking about was just another scheme. Call me cynical, or distracted, or arrogant, but I never thought he would have the stick-to-it-iveness to do what he did.

What he did was to bring together a stable of iconic wineries in Italy, aligned them with his dream, and proceeded to assemble a company dedicated to growing the Italian fine wine business in America. Old friends, Selvapiana, Badia a Coltibuono, Marchesi de Gresy and Vietti among them. Wineries I sold in the 1980’s and thought I’d never get to be part of their world. But Brian had a dream, a crazy, California kid dream. And maybe Italy lured him into her web too? Whatever the mechanism, now Brian can look at all of those who thought he was a crazy kid with a wacky dream (me amongst them) and he can have the last laugh.

Langhe Report: The Back Story

I love my bed. And my pillows. I was born in July; I essentially revel in being home. But the life I chose has taken me on the road for quite some time now. I must admit after the events of September 11, 2001, it has been more difficult. But hey, after what my grandparents endured crossing the Atlantic, crammed into a ship with hundreds of other hopeful “Americans to be,” it really is small change.

Since being back I have been in the streets, selling and doing wine dinners. Folks who have read recent posts come up to me asking what this “dream job” must be like. Romantic, exciting, involved. Yes, it is that. And more. If I may, for the sake of balance, elaborate? Maybe a timeline would be most illustrative.

Assembling a Rainbow, Brick by Brick

Imagine driving out of a pounding snow storm, ice everywhere, drifts of snow, soaked shoes and gloves, miserably cold. And then to arrive at a place where the sun is shining, the snow still cavorting in the upper ranges. A moment of respite, not from Nebbiolo but from Winter. Sure enough we’d be back in the thick of it the next day, but for now we are looking over the amphitheater-like plain leading down to Lake Iseo. It truly is a beautiful view on many levels. For the moment I am focused on the warmth the sun is spreading about us.

We are in the land of Franciacorta for a short time; playing hooky from Piemonte, just to clear the palate, warm up a little and learn more about some of the greatest sparkling wines of Italy and the world.

How easy it is. If one were in Burgundy and needing a Champagne fix, it would be about the same distance, somewhere around 150 miles. Another parallel I had never thought about.

Italian wine in an age of self-consciousness

Traveling through Piemonte and Lombardia this past week, soul-searching is on the rise. While there is always a certain amount of healthy ego involved in the making of a product like fine wine, what I sensed on this latest trip is that the Italians are vigorously peering inside as to the nature of Italian wine. Winemakers and marketers alike seem to be probing for the next step in the evolution of Italian wine in the 21st century.

William Gibson remarked that in these times Future Shock in no longer an oddity. It is a common state of being among people who travel, read and reach out to the world beyond their village. So in this age of change we have either adjusted to it or we have numbed and climbed into a virtual isolation tank, letting in only that which doesn’t confound.

The Italians enviously and deliciously do outreach so well. Maybe it has to do with the propensity for many Italians to channel their extroversion into something dramatic and interesting to the rest of the planet. I saw it in my dad’s mom, who just loved being the storyteller. Common activities take on uber-heraldic meaning. Is it hype? Or artistic interpretation?

Boca ~ From Noah to Moses

There are those places on the wine trail in Italy that really pay homage to a glorious past. But sometimes they don’t have to shout. All it takes is a whisper, a caress, a memory. So it was we made our way back into the snow and ice to the hilltop town of Boca in Piemonte. Not in the Langhe anymore, but a place that more people have forgotten about than remember.

Christoph Künzli is a modern day Moses for this area. Technically a foreigner, from nearby Switzerland, over 20 years ago he came here and fell under the spell of Antonio Cerri.

Langhe Report: Barbaresco at a Crossroads

The young in this world don’t remember the past; the old can’t imagine the future. As it goes throughout the world and history, this pattern keeps repeating. And in a place like Barbaresco, once again we are at a crossroads. Can the advances of the past be passed along to the new generation? Are they ready? Are there enough to pass it to that are receptive? Wine communities all over the world struggle with this passing of the baton to the new crop. I find myself in the Langhe again, in the Barbaresco of past and future.

Old people look around and shake their heads, wondering who will work as hard as they feel they had to. And equally, the very young look at the old ways and dismiss the folly of the older but not always wiser ones who still assert their control over the future.

Somewhere along the way, both sides have to either take that leap of faith or just throw up their hands and move on.

Oddly, what I sense in a place like Barbaresco is a change in direction, a tug-of-war between lifestyle and wine.

Langhe Report: First Snow of 2012 (and It's a Big One)

From the "Cuckoo for Cocconato Files

Just the beginning...

Have you ever gotten into a car and headed to a place, feeling there was something waiting for you that you might not be waiting for yourself? Yesterday (Day 3) in Alba after I finished my appointment with the Pio Cesare folks, I looked towards Asti and wondered if I should be driving up there. I sent a text to my colleague, Robert Bava, but didn’t hear back. I took that for an “all clear.”

As I neared Cocconato I started to see a light dusting of snow, and as I climbed the snow started to fall a little harder. If I had not been born a fool, I would have turned around right then and there. But I didn’t.

Langhe Report: From Ovello to Novello to Bolly in only 14 hours

Day 2 started out early in Barbaresco to visit with Aldo Vacco at Produttori. Aldo was running late, but Luca met us with hot espresso. Luca’s grandfather was one of the very first to help set up the cooperative and at only 26 his life’s course it set. Like a monk, Luca diligently explained to us all the new improvements and the comings and goings (one grower recently passed and the property was sold to another grower, etc.) along with the new construction at both of the facilities. The places are beautiful and I will have to post on that progress in another post.

Aldo showed up and led John Roenigk and I through a tasting of the 2007 crus. I noticed Aldo seemed pretty excited. As we worked our way through the wines from Muncagotta to Montestefano to Asili, across the hilly vineyards of Barbaresco, Aldo got more and more animated. Now Aldo is a pretty sedate fellow. But with wines like this and with Produttori essentially being a hue control experiment for the quality of Barbaresco, I could sense Aldo, after all these years, is more than a director of a winery. To me he represents one who is actually charting the course for a village of winemakers. And not just any village, but a spot on earth where one of the great wines is made. And yes, there are people in the village who also chart their own destiny, folks like Gaja and de Gresy.

Langhe Report: Nebbiolo "Full Immersion" Day 1

I had no longer said goodbye to my Austin amigo, Devon, sending him on his way to the Real Madrid –Barcelona game in Barcelona, than I set upon to make my way to Marseille, so I could catch a very early plane to Milan to gather up another Austinite friend, John Roenigk. Before that though I had to endure a night in a smoky room and some Colombard-Chardonnay to go with my (most-likely) Atlantic farm raised Salmon. But after 36 hours of being the walking dead, and working through it, it was not too bad. Other than I had to leave behind the pure and wonderful wines and friends I made in Montpellier. But that is the life and… Italy calls.

So a 4:30 AM alarm to catch a shuttle and a plane to get to a noon appointment in Serralunga. No more Grenache or Carignan. No more Viognier or Grenache Blanc. On to Nebbiolo and company.

All went well as I found my traveling companion earlier than expected. A sturdy little Lancia and before long we were in the Langhe.

Millésime Bio: Three days, too many wines and only one master sommelier

From "the times they are a changing" département

Somewhere in the last few days, here at Millésime Bio 2012, the subject of Gravner came up. Millésime Bio is a three day expo of organic and bio-dynamic wineries from France, Italy, Spain and all the rest who showed up. Pretty impressive showing for the natural yeast, sans sufre, bio-groupies. Nirvana for the hairy armpit lovers.

Oddly enough, friend Alice was nowhere to be seen. I reckon she was off in more fertile pastures, ensconced in egesta, harvesting the fruits of her desire. Still, there was plenty of folk at the show to make three days in Montpellier a time well spent. Outside it was La Californie.

Zero to 80 in two hours

I’ve been under the weather. And I’ve been over it too. The past few days I have been in many airplanes. Houston, Chicago, Dallas, Paris, Montpellier. The O-N-D season seems light in comparison. But this is the life. Well, not exactly “the life” but a life. Freely chosen.

I knew I wasn’t feeling good when I went to Chicago. An early work week in Houston, and a layover at my house. When we got to Chicago is was bitterly cold. What does one expect in January? We shuttled between hotels, meetings and restaurants. On the return back to Dallas (for another brief layover) the temperature was zero and the storm was approaching rapidly from the west.

Barely made it off the runway. Landing in Dallas was another world. 80 degrees, cloudless, smoggy like LA, but no storm, no chill. But my head was throbbing, my throat was raw.

Baby, baby, don'cha go away mad

We’ve all had it happen to us. You walk into an Italian restaurant, somewhere in America, and the place is bustling. Waiters are carrying trays of steaks, pasta, chops. Bartenders are mixing up classic drinks. Women have their bright red lipstick on. And resounding from the ceiling, good old blue eyes is crooning. You think, “now we're in for a good time, Sinatra is in the house.”

Music doesn't seem that crucial to the success of restaurants in Italy. It’s a place to eat, to talk to friends, hear one another, even. But it’s not a scene you see that often in Italy, using music to recast nostalgia as cutting edge.