Goodbye to this world – Friends we won’t be seeing in 2013

Odd, that on the 7th birthday of this blog I would be writing about death. What started out as a simple little blog has almost taken over my life. Hundreds of blog posts about any number of things, awards, travel, meals, talk of a book, and what am I doing? Staring at the past. For a moment. A moment of silence and reflection and respect for those who have gone before us, those who made a difference on my little life in this wine business. Likely I have forgotten someone, maybe even someone of importance. There will be others to call them up, I’m sure. Cerberus will see to it that we will know everyone who has passed, will relay the info to the poodles above ground. In the meantime, here go before us:

Not a fan of Fruitcake? Then you haven’t had my mamma’s!

I don’t know why folks hate fruitcake so much. Guess they never had one made with love. My mom turned 98 in May and this year she sent me not one but two fruitcakes. I think she didn’t get around to it last year. She had a pretty hectic schedule last holiday season. This year she got out in front of it and made up for it.

Feast of the 7, uhh 8, umm 9, make that 10 Fishes

From the "chefs can't count" dept.

When Christmas rolls into town, inevitably, among Italian-Americans, there is talk of the fabled Feast of the Seven Fishes. Folks more astute and studied on this subject have had their say, essentially to note this is an American invention with vague references to meals prepared in Southern Italian homes, notably, Campania, Calabria and Sicily. Because we Southern Italians were so doggone poor, our utilization of everything we caught infuses our culture and our DNA. Like my friend Paolo Librandi reminded me at another great meal this year in Calabria, “This is the poorest of cuisines. This food is made from things nobody in the city hungers for, wild onions, herbs, parts of animals that get discarded, skins of plants no one would think were edible. Throw away food.”

Likewise, nothing from the sea gets thrown away.

While the meal we had this week in Dallas was not likely anything that would ever be discarded, historically some of the elements were considered little more than food for poor people and animals. Chef John Tesar reanimated his memories from the Northeast, an area rich in Italian-American cultural drippings. John channeled his inner Italian with a meal, one of the best meals I have experienced in 2012 – and I have had some amazing meals this year (post coming). Special thanks to Maria for letting me know about this meal and getting our motley crew in.

Everything I know about wine I learned from Catholic school - Part I

It all started when I was tasting wine with a friend, Damon Ornowski, who is a master sommelier. We were taking apart some wine and I mentioned that I smelled ink. Damon looked at me knowingly, but we hadn’t yet made the connection. “You know like the ink in the Sheaffer Skrip ink cartridges we used to use in school?” Bingo. It was at that moment I realized, everything I know about wine I learned in Catholic school.

I’m talking grade school, 1st through 8th grade. I lived in the desert, in Palm Springs, California. It was a quiet life. But it gave me everything I would need in my adult life to muddle through a career.

Cheap Italian Wine for the Holidays

These wines can be found fairly easily and usually for under $10 – not usually what I blog about, but knowing there are folks looking for values – Italy has ‘em – snag ‘em up and enjoy yourselves in a safe and responsible manner. Happy Holidays!

♫ Blame it on the Cosa Nosta ♫

An arrest is made in Montalcino - a lone man acting in revenge against Soldera

Screen shot from the Daily Beast

Soldera saga unfolds in an unfettered and unfiltered manner.

This story by Barbie Latza Nadeau really cuts to the bone. Recommended reading. No punches pulled. And no words of mafia (or mafioso) involvement, nor “the money behind big Italian wine” uttered in the story. How refreshing to see someone actually took the time to see who really did this. Journalism isn’t dead.

There are some real doozies in this piece, quite juicy and tasty ones. Some of the quotes below. Please refer to the whole story HERE. Nice work, Ms. Nadeau.

The Liquidation of Innocence

You are a young child of three. You hear the phone ring in the night. Your father answers. Your mother screams and then starts to sob. For hours and hours. Your father’s cousin’s husband was shot in his bed from outside the house, through the stucco. The wife, his cousin, survived. The unofficial explanation was that the husband had gotten mixed up with the wrong group and he was eliminated.

Your grandfather and his friend are sitting outside, under the grape arbor, cracking walnuts and reminiscing. They speak of a mutual friend of theirs who, all of a sudden, disappeared, car and all. Years later, as Los Angeles grew out, and subdivisions were developed, the car was found, rotted out from being buried in lime. There were no signs of their friend, who was never heard from again.

An aunt in the last years of her life, telling stories about her childhood. Her father was mercurial. At times they would live in two story homes and drive long black cars. At other times, the family was so poor some of the kids were farmed out to orphanages. The father’s brother was a promoter of sorts. One day, in South Dallas he was found with a new pair of fitted concrete shoes, several feet under the Trinity River.

10 Best Italian Wines To Go With Seafood

Louisiana Gulf Oyster fired up "Chuckwagon Style"

Living in landlocked Dallas, Texas, I've found the evolution of seafood restaurants in the last 20 years to be nothing short of a revelation. Likewise, witnessing the onslaught of attractive Italian white wines to match up with the branzino, mussels, crab and monkfish that are arriving daily and fresh. It’s an Italian wine seafood lover’s paradise.

Some of the wines that I have enjoyed lately in conjunction with some of the delicious seafaring food are:

Love and Death in the Marche

In the Spring of 1999 we visited a vineyard in the Marche. When I saw this vineyard, I thought to myself, “What a wonderful place this would be to rest for eternity.” I wasn’t at all feeling maudlin, although things back home would escalate in the next two years in ways which I could never have foreseen. No, it was Spring, the weather was perfect, we’d just tasted some wonderful white and red wines from our friend Aldo Cifola at La Monacesca. Life was good. It just struck me that this was just about the most perfect place I had ever come across in my life.

So it goes in Italy. Since then I have had to find a resting place for a loved one and many other strange and wonderful and happy and not so happy things have happened under the sun and the moon in this special place we call Italy. I will always love Italy, and this little spot in the Marche will always be one of my favorite resting places, in this life and the next.

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

The Day the Vines Cried

When appalling events trigger knee-jerk drama

Caronne Ste Gemme after the attack

Earlier this year, after Vinitaly, I went to Bordeaux for the en Primeurs tastings. One of our hosts, Francois Nony, looks after Château Caronne Ste Gemme, which had just been the target of severe vandalism in the vineyards. Described by Tom Stevenson as “a superb island of vines on a gravel plateau south of St. Julien estates,” the property is one of those little gems that has been enjoying an upsurge in quality and popularity. Below are excerpts from the report on the vandalism of the property in March 2012 by Jane Anson in Decanter:

About 2,000 young vines have been vandalised causing tens of thousands of euros damage at a Medoc estate.

The plot of Merlot vines at Chateau Labat, a 7-hectare cru bourgeois estate in AOC Haut-Medoc, was attacked on Friday night, possibly by a gang, the owners suspect.

Calabria: Time Will Tell

It had been 25 years since I’d last been in Calabria. I was expecting at least 25 years’ worth of change. What I found was far from that.

In many ways Calabria is a time capsule. Nothing exemplifies it better than the vineyard Nicodemo Librandi and Attilio Scienza arranged. Circular in design, Librandi and Scienza scoured Calabria for the forgotten native grapes and laid out 160 plus varieties as a living museum to a place many consider the ground zero of Italian viticulture.

10 Dining and Plate Trends You Won’t Find in Italy

“Don’t play with your food,” our mothers and grandmothers and aunts and nuns used to tell us. That was then. America has a whole new order and the kids are now the quartermasters at the asylum. Italy looks to America for all kinds of inspiration, but some of the plate trends that refuse to die in American kitchens, one would be hard pressed to find in the heart of the Italian kitchen. Some of those plate trends we now have to come to America to witness and enjoy are:

Dallas: A tale of two J.R.’s

Dallas circa 1966 (Photos by author)

As a youth living in California I often heard about Dallas. Dallas, the town where my father was born. Dallas, where my mother grew up. Where her sister still lives. Dallas, where JFK was assassinated.

When I moved to Dallas 15 years after the JFK assassination, the town still smoldered under the ashes of the deeds of November 1963. I say deeds, because the shame didn’t stop on the 22nd. There was a serial quality to the events that would culminate in Dallas on November 24th. That was the day J.R. shot Oswald. No, not “that” J.R. This J.R., Jack Ruby was small time compared to J.R. Ewing, the fictional hero/villain of the TV show that would surface in the 1980’s, named Dallas. No, Jack Ruby was the dark side of Dallas, steamy and noir and unspoken, like all those bottles of whiskey hidden in the homes of prominent Baptist leaders of Dallas. Yes, Dallas has secrets, like any town. Save for the viewing on the TV screens for all the world to see.

An Ancient Olive Orchard in Old Calabria

At first glance, it appeared to be just an orchard of ancient olive trees. We arrived on a day when there had been a lot of rain. The soil was soaked, the sky was muted, the trees glistened from the saturation. We drove around and I took several pictures. My friend and host, Paolo, told me about one of his Scandinavian importers, who whenever he visited the winery, asked to be brought to this place and left alone for several hours. This orchard was planted at the beginning of the Renaissance, when much of Italy was flourishing in the arts, architecture and music, resulting in scores of works of art. Here in Calabria, the Renaissance left less of an imprint. But nature would see to it that Calabria wouldn’t be ignored.

These trees, a family of hundreds, planted on this escarpment overlooking the Ionian, never to leave, never to see the wonders of Florence, Venice or the Vatican. Left out in the sun, the wind, the heat, the cold, the snow, the silence.

A Stellar Italian Food Experience in Calabria

Every once in a while, on the wine trail in Italy, I find a place that redefines what Italian food is for me. While there are the tried and true dishes that we fall in love with, and there are those who push the limits of what it known and expected, there is also this: out of this world food that comforts and nourishes and is so delicious. I had one of these experiences in the hilltop town of Ciro in Calabria this week.