By the Bottle: Patricia Guy

Wine lovers on wine and the vinous life.

 

I initially learned about Patricia Guy from her book, Wines of Italy, which should be on every Italian wine lover’s book shelf. Patricia lives in Verona, Italy, where I eventually made her acquaintance. She grew up in the US, but has lived most of her adult life in Europe. She is a wine lover, an excellent writer (hence, no need to edit her interview) and a quiet thinker. She lives, from where I perch, an ideal life, and I am honored to have her comments here at By the Bottle.

 

What wines do you have standing up right now?

They’re all laying down, as am I at the moment.

 

What’s the last great wine you drank?

2007 Pietramora from Fattoria Zerbina. The perfume unfurled: raspberries, cherries, a note of blueberries. The palate echoed the nose: a whirling top of flavors that merged and mingled. It continued to evolve and with each sip. 

I asked Cristina Geminiani, the winemaker and owner of Fattoria Zerbina to send a bottle of her Pietramora, aged for at least a decade, to me once a month when I eventually (and inevitably) end up in the Old Wine Writers Home to remind me of the pleasure of tasting a well-made wine.  I do not expect her to do this, but it is a nice to think about us old fogies sitting, sipping, chatting and remembering in the presence of a gracefully mature wine. 

Describe your ideal drinking experience (when, where, what, how).

When: late afternoon, the sun still in the sky. Where: on a terrace, with a gentle breeze blowing. What: something with an evocative fragrance and an ever-evolving flavor. How: with a good friend or two for company.

Saying Goodbye to Italy

“You may have the universe, if I may have Italy.” – Giuseppe Verdi

Rome - 1971

This year will mark 50 years since I first visited Italy. That alone is cause for dismay. The good news? Life in the last 50 years has been so much better, thanks to Italy.

But eventually one must say goodbye.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not bidding adieu just yet. But the sun is getting lower on the horizon.

Italy has been my mentor, my guide, my friend, and sometimes, my foe. I’ve loved Italy with all my heart. And at times, I’ve wanted to walk away and never look back. Italy has tried to kill me, at least once. And it has cured me, also, at least once. And I cannot tell you how many times I’ve experienced a rebirth, all because of Italy.

That’s a pretty tall order, to lay all of this off onto a peninsula in the middle of the Mediterranean.

By the Bottle: Raffaella Guidi Federzoni

Wine lovers on wine and the vinous life.

This week we’re hearing from Raffaella Guidi Federzoni in Montalcino. She is, from time to time, my muse. But always a friend. She is fierce. She is charismatic. And a consummate wine professional. Raffaella is a thinker and, to me, the embodiment of the best of the modern Italian woman. Not that she or anyone needs my endorsement. But I admire her, and, hopefully do not idealize her too much. But maybe just a little. The world needs more Raffaella’s. And today I am sharing her story.

 

What wines do you have standing up right now?

Sangiovese Superiore Le Papesse 2019 and Sangiovese I Probi 2016, both from Villa Papiano. I am quite intrigued by Romagna’s wines, especially the ones made with Sangiovese. I know nothing about them and it is high time to start learning.

 

What’s the last great wine you drank?

I consider a wine great when it is – or is going to be - unforgettable for its qualities of balance, depth, personality, persistence, promise. In this case the last were actually two, both from the vintage 2017: the future Brunellos from Le Chiuse and Fattoria dei Barbi, tasted secretly and prematurely, one from the bottle and the second from the barrel.

 

Are there any classic wines that you only recently had for the first time?

If the concept of “recently” could be consider elastic in terms of time, as it happened a few years ago, I must quote the Cannonau made by Alessandro Dettori in three different crus: Tuderi, Tenores and Dettori. These wines struck me for being already totally classic.

 

Describe your ideal drinking experience (when, where, what, how).

In the evening, somewhere comfortable, two or three wines maximum, with the feeling of having all the time of the world. And, of course, with the right company which could consist in a small group of friends, or, myself and just one more person.

Sardegna and wine - a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma

From the archives

By chance, I’m sitting in a restaurant and nearby me is a table of four. Urban dwellers, well-traveled, by the looks of their garb and little snippets of conversation that float into the dining room for all to hear. One in the group starts talking about wine and Italy. The usual suspects are cited – Rome, Florence, Venice, The Amalfi Coast, Cinque Terre. And then someone mentions Costa Smeralda in Sardegna. By this time the wine has been flowing, social lubrication amplifies the voices and one in the group states, for all to hear, “I love the Costa Smeralda, the beaches are great, the seafood holds a candle to no one and the people are friendly. But honestly, I don’t get Sardinian wine.”

It was one of those moments. In a busy dining room it was as if time had stood still. A conversational lull in the room had occurred at that time, and the last statement, “I don’t get Sardinian wine” bellowed throughout the room and careened off the walls. Had the wine gods issued a dispatch?

By the Bottle: Martin Sinkoff

Wine lovers on wine and the vinous life.

My next participant in the By the Bottle series is Martin Sinkoff. I first met Martin in 1980 in Dallas, where he had recently taken a job as the fine wine director for a small but growing wine wholesaler, Glazer’s (now SGWS). Martin brought the company into the world of fine wine and changed a lot of lives (including mine) as a result of the waves he created. He went on to start his own import company, Martin Sinkoff Wines, Inc. and a very successful wine label, Reserve, St. Martin. Martin sold the company to a budding importer, looking for a bevy of well-made and value-driven French wines. Not content to rest on his laurels, Martin was lured back into the world of fine wine by Richie Cacciato of the Frederick Wildman, where he helped redefine the company’s image and direction. He now heads up an international consulting bureau, Martin Sinkoff Associates, with offices in New York and Tel Aviv. And he moved to Tel Aviv, where he is a (still new) Oleh Hadash in Israel (almost two years). He writes a frequent wine column for the Times of Israel when he is not devoting time to enriching his cultural spirituality, studying the Torah. Martin is fluent in French and is now learning another language, Hebrew. He is the embodiment of a modern-day Renaissance person. [*Note: This "conversation" took place before the current violence. We are both wishing for peace and calm.]

What wines do you have standing up right now?  

Tzora Vineyards “Judean Hills” 2018 (Judean Hills, red); Chateau Senejac 2016 (Haut Medoc, red); Moulin de Gassac 2019 (Languedoc, red); Itay Lahat “Adom” 2019 (Galilee, red); Francesco Cirelli Montepulciano d’Abruzzo 2019 (Montepulciano, red).

What’s the last great wine you drank?

Hmmm. Depends on the definition of “great”.  The last wine that took my breath away was Chateau Beaucastel served by Marc Perrin himself at my friend, Etienne Hugel’s, wedding, now I am guessing close to 10 years ago (maybe fewer).  Etienne is now no longer with us and so the wine and the event both remain in loving memory.

Are there any classic wines that you only recently had for the first time? 

Not classic but “up- and-coming”: several wines from Georgia (the country not the state). With thanks to my friends Lisa Granik MW (in the US) and Vova Diachenko (in Tel Aviv) for the introductions.

What Italian winemakers can imbibe from their Swiss watchmaking cousins

Guido Terreni is running out of time. And he knows it. Terreni, who is in his mid-50’s, left a comfortable and prestigious job as president of Bulgari’s watchmaking division, to go to work for a smaller watchmaker, Parmigiani Fleurier, as their CEO. What does this have to do with Italian wine? I pondered this thought as I glanced through a recent interview with him. I’ve been getting interested in watches, thanks to a friend of mine who is shoulder deep in the study of horology and timepieces.

I’d noticed, when I would go to Italy, that the Italians loved watches and timepieces. In fact, it borders on a national mania. I would always have a dependable watch on, but my Italian counterparts would have these electronic sundials and steampunk chronometers flashed upon their wrists. It was fascinating to observe.

That said, I’ve been running the idea up the flag pole that the Swiss watchmakers could impart some valuable lessons upon the Italian viticultural landscape. This quote (with additional following ones) from Terreni that really drove this idea home was this:

“Emotions don't come from the turnover that you make or the profit that you make. Emotions come from what you can give in terms of pleasure to people who buy the products and crave what you are making. This is something that evolves over a long period of time.”

We often pooh-pooh the notion of emotionality, as if it is an uncontrolled, irrational thing. You read in the business pages that the stock market is going haywire, running amuck, feeding off emotions, and one might get the idea that an emotional basis might not be most stable foundation. But Terreni thinks differently. It’s how one captures loyal customers, and keeps them. I find this path to be a solid one, as it was something that I saw again and again. If you’re just filling a slot, making a product for a possible demand, it could be very successful. But it might be a flash in a pan. Look at some of the classic wineries in Italy, they seem to be more like watchmakers than trendsetters. They are moving from generation to generation, at a slower pace, with not quite such a steep angle of ascension. But they are moving towards their summit. That’s part of their evolution.

By the Bottle: #1 - Ole Udsen - a new series about winelovers and their tastes (and loves) in wine.

Wine lovers on wine and the vinous life.

I’m starting a new series, By the Bottle. It mimics the By the Book feature in the Sunday NY Times Book Review, which asks a series of questions to authors about books. This time, we’ve turned the tables on wine lovers, winemakers, and all kinds of folks in the world of wine. It’s all for fun, with the hopeful expectation that we might gain insights into friends and colleagues in a lighthearted and easygoing way. Expect more, not consistently, but from time to time. Usually on Thursdays.

Kicking this off with Ole Udsen, a wine merchant, wine writer, senior oil industry negotiator and commercial innovator. Ole is a dear friend who lives in Vedbæk, a community on the coast 20 km. north of Copenhagen, Denmark. Ole is one of the most learned people I have ever met in regards to Italian wine, and southern Italian wine in particular. He has an ecumenical thirst for knowledge for wines from all over the world and is one of the most open-minded people I have ever met. But he is no pushover; which is probably why we get along so well. Thanks for launching the ship, Ole! See you at dinner.

What wines do you have standing up right now?

Many. Some Albillo and Garnacha from Sierra de Gredos, a 2011 Hunter Valley Sémillon, a 2007 Pfalz Spätburgunder, and about 10-15 others.

What’s the last great wine you drank?

Barolo Prapò 1996, Az. Agr. Bricco Rocche / Ceretto.

Describe your ideal drinking experience (when, where, what, how).

I don’t have any. Great drinking experiences come in many guises.

What is wine worth to you?

Now that many of us are getting back up, not quite running yet, but moving forward, some are looking at the value of things. Keeping in mind that health and sanity are paramount above all material objects, the idea of a wine's merit is something that is as varied as our genetic makeup. I cannot speak for all, but I will lay out what I think it means if asked to me - What is wine worth to you?

The Deciders vs. the Influencers – A saga for espousing wine in the new era

There are voices out there, in the ether of the internet, who are pushing the idea of the demise of the old guard. “The decider class is dying,” they clamor, hurling salvos about the decrepitude of the voices that have guided many folks into the world of wine. “It’s all over now, the blue bloods no longer tell us which red wines we should buy, with their 100-point scales and bloviated tasting notes. It does nothing for me, tells me nothing about my experience, my relationship with the wine I choose.” It’s risen to more than a gentle ferment. The young lions want the silverbacks to “get the blazes out of our world.”  Is the age of the authority done with? Or is the new blood punching the upper crusts out of the way, hustling out the Decider Class and ferrying in the Influencer Squad? Is it really a new age, or is this merely a successive approximation, dolled up to look hip and dope?

The wonderfully complicated and all too brief (and happy) life of Pio Boffa

A fond remembrance

There are moments in life when a particular event happens, that sends ripples across the water.  Such was the moment yesterday when I heard about the passing of a friend in Italy, Pio Boffa. Pio was just 66 years old, and another victim of the relentless Covid19 virus.

How does this happen, a little over a month after another friend, Barone Alessandro de Renzis Sonnino, passed away at the age of 62, also from Covid?

Right now, Michigan and New York states are posting higher daily new cases than Italy, with half the population. Italy has imposed greater restrictions than those states, but the grim reaper is still harvesting souls in the motherland.  

Unfortunately, Pio’s life was one of those. And what a wonderfully complicated and all too brief life it was.

But what a time to be alive and in the business of Italian wine!

Are you still here? [And when in hell are you gonna get off our grass?]

Looking through my wine closet I came upon a couple of bottles I’d forgotten. And probably for good reason. They’re old. They’re white. And when they were first released, they were, let’s say, a little over weighted in the testosterone department. In other words, as the #NewGen's say, boomer wine.

One was a California (Napa Valley) Sauvignon Blanc, the other was a French (Burgundy) Corton Charlemagne. Both from the 1980’s. They’d both achieved a dark, golden, sunset-y color.

I have a place, high in my wine closet, which I call the bardo-balcony. It’s where I put old wines that have given up the ghost. But the labels might be pretty, or the wines might have a special meaning for me. Or a memory. So, I can’t quite throw them in the recycle bin. I’ll let those who come to clean up, after I’ve given up the ghost, deal with it (hopefully not for a while).

But it reminds me that every living thing on earth has a cycle. And wine, like people, can live for ages. Or it can leave a little earlier than the rest of us.

Old Cheese Man Wine

Lately, during this extraordinary era, I’ve been digging into ye olde wine cellar and pulling out crusty specimens that have arrived to an old age. It was a dream of youth, to have access to older, aged, mature wines. We’d read about it in Michael Broadbent’s book. A wine that needs 20-30 years to arrive at its peak. And now, I have scores of those bottles. And to magnify the situation, an even older friend of mine bequeathed me even more ancient bottles. A dream come true, ce n'est pas?

However, all the glitters isn’t the golden light off the cobwebs of these fossils. Here’s what I’ve been finding lately.

They are all starting to smell like old cheese man wine.

A Tale of Two Tastings

Options for tasting wine in the last year have been somewhat curtailed by the events that we’ve all encountered. In-person tastings have not resumed, trade shows have been put on hold, and even larger get-togethers are on hiatus for now. So how does one keep their palate sharp in times like these?

I’ve found two ways to help one through these sparse times. This is how I’ve fashioned a survival strategy, of sorts, to get through these dark days.

Where we've become - And where do we go from here?

This is going to be a mish mash of stuff, as we’re kind of in the doldrums of wine blogging. Also, I have a few things I need to do to clear off my desk. So, here goes.

10 of my favorite off-the-beaten-path places to eat in Italy

From the archives: Most of us cannot jump on a plane and go to Italy, and those in Italy might not have the mobility in 2021 that we had a year or two ago, especially now, as Italy has imposed a nationwide lock down. But we can always dream about the days to come, eh?

 

In preparation for an interview, I was looking up places I have really enjoyed eating in Italy. Many of these places don’t even have a website, or a sign. I was lucky enough to be taken there be locals. They represent some of the best eating and drinking I have experienced in Italy. And while most of them are not fancy places, the cooking in these spots have been some of the most memorable meals in a restaurant setting. I eat a lot around the farm table and am lucky to have home cooked meals. They’re great. But if you’re looking to go to Italy that won’t help you. These following 10 spots are open for anyone. It helps to speak Italian, for sure. But it’s Italy; anyone with a little passion can communicate to most Italians.

Note: don’t go looking for spaghetti and meatballs, pizza, lasagna or grilled chicken breasts. Expect the unexpected. Donkey ragù, tiny snails, entrails, tiny piquant sausages in a fiery broth, raw things from the sea (not just fish) and that’s just for starters. You should be adventurous. And not be looking for the best hits from Italy. This is how Italians eat. I love it. If you are lucky enough to find these places, you might find you will too.