You Can't Go Home Again

“Make your mistakes, take your chances, look silly, but keep on going. Don’t freeze up.”  -Thomas Wolfe

The past few days in New York, walking paths I used to walk when I was 23 and New York was a much older place. Bleeker Street in January, it couldn’t get any direr for me. Walking past the Chelsea Hotel on my way to work, looking at the plaques of the dead writers, many who never made it to 40. At 23, that was almost half a lifetime away, but the winter of ’75 was a bitter halfway point.

Today on Bleeker Street, it was bright and breezy, a perfect 80°F, just the day for the last of the rosé wines, a Donnas from the Valle d’Aoste and a Rossese Rosé from Liguria. Add two glasses of Trebbiano Spoletino to go with the artichokes alla giudia for good measure. Almost 40 years later, New York is manageable. But as Thomas Wolfe said all those years ago, you can’t go home again. Not to New York. Not to California.

Canaiolo’s tale of love lost

From the dies canulares storybook

It had been a brutally hot summer. Sangiovese came up to me and announced, “I can’t take it here anymore with you. There’s too much tradition, it’s too provincial and it’s just too damn hot. I’m heading to the coast to live with Cabernet. I need someone strong and vibrant, and I need to feel the cool sea breeze between my leaves.” And just like that, she was out of my life.

Knowing Your Place

The social hierarchy of vines

Among the many hundreds of Italian vines there is a pecking order. Some are more important than others. Often, the ones in power don’t shy away from letting the subjacent ones know who is on top.

In Italy, Nebbiolo and Sangiovese are the Chairman and the CEO. But not just any Nebbiolo or Sangiovese. The Nebbiolo must come from the Langhe, preferably Barolo or Barbaresco. And Sangiovese, while prolific, must be from the right neighborhood, Montalcino. Everywhere else is the other side of the tracks.

If you are Montepulciano or Nero d’Avola, what are the chances you’ll make it to the ruling class? You might have breeding and pedigree, but location is paramount. You have to come from the right place. And knowing one’s place in Italy’s viticultural society is vital to one’s status.

Ferragosto 2013: What I'm drinking

Lighting the fire balloon at Ferragosto

Many Italians have spent the day at the beach, in mirthful play. Back home, work proceeds. It’s hot in Texas and many people have put aside leisure for the responsibilities of ambition. Some must work so others may play. So it goes. But even after a long day in the trenches, one must recharge and re-balance the wheels of life, yes?

My choice to get me on the right path is this little red wine I found from Tuscany. It is a bit of a conundrum to me, because when I saw the grape varieties and the ownership, my pre-conception lever was pulled.

Breaking the Code of Silence on Italian Wine

Echoes from the archives  - posted 1/10/13

From the “Om mani padme om-erta” dept.

The single most asked question I get, on a regular basis, is still “How do I figure out Italian wines?” I have to deal with it in work, on this blog, in educational situations, in sales, and in almost any situation I get into when the subject of Italian wines is brought up among normal people. I say normal, because in the wine geek world, those folks are more interested in how many DOCG’s there are or the difference between Cannubi and Bussia. But that’s rarified air for folks who are just trying to unlock the key to understanding Italian wine for their purposes, those being immediate drinking pleasure. So this isn’t an academic exercise, although many folks in that arena struggle with this as well. Maybe that’s why the book, Italian Wine for Dummies, is the one many of us recommend to folks who are trying to simply sort it out.

But there has to be an even simpler answer. Not everyone is going to read a book. Too bad we can’t go the route that Mimmo Siclari chose, selling cassettes of Calabrian crime songs from the rear of his car. And as risky as that was, and it was, much more of a risk than I am attempting, the stakes are even higher with regards to cracking the code on Italian wine.

Bad children in the seat behind me in the plane

Sometimes it just seems things aren’t meant to work out exactly like one wants them to. I have this propensity to attract bad behavior on an airplane. Children behind me tap drum solos on their tray tables, while the sweaty, balding, skin-flaking guy in front of me puts his seat back as far as he can, when no one else on the plane is reclining their seat. I’m lucky that way.

What to Drink When Italy Takes a Vacation

Great Italian wines for everyday enjoyment (and one special occasion wine)

It’s August and I’m on a plane to Indianapolis. I had a brief weekend layover in Dallas from a week in Orlando. I’m surrounded by heat, humidity and ambition. Meanwhile, thousands of miles away and in another time zone, Italians and other fortunate ones have taken the month off. The government in Italy is in shambles, the government in America is in gridlock and the stock market is set to wobble on its axis. I’m up before the sun rises, but in Italy folks are walking back from the beach, getting ready for a long, leisurely lunch.

I imagine them in shorts and swim suits. The sun is warm, but the breeze off the water cools the skin. Somewhere on the coast (we are more in the south than in the north) fishermen have brought in the fresh catch. There are any number of tasty crustaceans, some small fish for frying and some medium sized fish, sweet meat and ready for the human participants who have planned a civilized afternoon with their carcasses. In Italy, for a fish the afterlife is as good as what preceded it, provided the chef is caring and intuitive.

Running a little behind on my regular posting - lots of travel and not enough time to gather thoughts. A post is forthcoming, just a little later than usual. Thanks for reading...

- Alfonso Cevola limited rights reserved On the Wine Trail in Italy

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Are “The Best Italian Wines” the Best We Can Do?

I thought we might have dodged the bullet. You know, the one whereby all the wines of the country are judged by a few? France has had that moment a time or two. Lately it’s been in China, where Lafite ruled. Now it’s Domaine de la Romanée-Conti’s turn.

Italy, ah Italy, land of wine for the everyday person. Maybe in Italy. But in the rest of the world, has Italy managed to escape the curse of the wine snob?

Italian Restaurants in America with Great Italian Wine Lists

Rainbow over the Tanaro

I got a call recently from a pal in back home. He was going to try out a new Italian spot and would report back to me.

A few hours later he texted me. “I called the owner over, complimented them on the food. Said I won’t come back on (account of) the wine list. There are many great Italian wines in the $40-60 range. With entrees at $25, a wine at $100 isn’t a balanced list.”

He then called me to give me the blow-by-blow. The bottom line was the owner asked him which wines he wanted on the list. My friend said it wasn’t a matter of which individual wine; it was a matter of having a better balanced wine list. He remarked to me, in closing, that he didn't think the owner of the restaurant got the message.

Familiar Faces: California Vines ~ California Wines

California is my kind if déjà vu. Wherever I go, there is a memory. When I talk to someone from California, we share commonalities, whether it be the schools we went to, the wines we grew up drinking or the ways we think about planet earth. It’s a great place for aspirations, especially in a world where, it seems, politicians are constantly reverting to gridlock and breaking things down. Sure, California has their share of extremists, like anywhere, but the state is so large, one can almost believe there is a place where others feel and think like oneself.

What does a native Californian drink in California on his birthday?

There’s nothing like breaking one’s obsession by going in a totally opposite direction. Thusly, I headed for Napa Valley this week, leaving Sicily behind. I’m not a Napa Cab basher, per se, but I’m pretty picky. I am also an unrepentant white and rosé wine lover. For it to be red it has to rub me like fine grain sandpaper – nothing coarse and heady. That said, we mixed it up pretty good this week. I managed to get a few Italian wines in, but I was there to taste what was in front of me.

Wherever the wind shall take me....

Taking time off from my usual posting schedule to celebrate a birthday. Back sometime soon.


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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Stuck on the Island - My Sicilian Obsession

The ferry is closed, rough waters in the Strait of Messina. Airplanes cannot fly in and out of Catania airport, too much ash from Etna. And the long anticipated bridge has yet to be built. I’m stuck on the island.

I’ve been home two weeks now and am going away again, soon. But I am obsessed with Sicily. I fear I need an intervention.

La Muntagna – Etna’s influence beyond Etna

In trying to comprehend what Etna means, to the area, to Sicily and to the world beyond, one visit will not reveal much. There are those whose lives have been swallowed up by the mountain, so many willing Empedocles. But as an outsider, I can only observe, listen and hope to transmit the energy that is reverberating throughout the island. Believe me when I tell you, the energy is there. All that is necessary is for one to silence their chattering monkey brain, set it aside for the time being, and breathe in deep. The mysteries of the fiery mountain are available to all with open ears, eyes and hearts. It’s that simple.

What isn’t simple is trying to decode the striation of activity, both physical and metaphysical, that hovers right below the delicate topsoil. There are a few places to look for guidance, our own personal Don Juan Matus, if you will. Actually, La Muntagna has no shortage of shamans to guide one in the ways of the volcano.