Dispatch from Kyiv: Why I won’t be going to Vinitaly this year

The following is a speculative compilation deriving out of anecdotal missives from friends in the wine trade who are in Ukraine. This is only a drill. Слава Україні!

 I’m in the basement of our apartment building, where I now live. I am a young Ukrainian in the wine business (mainly p.r. and sommelier studies), but right now, me and my family, and our country, are fighting for our lives. So, I won’t be going to Vinitaly this year.

My mother-in-law has taken our children across the border to Poland, where now they are safe. My husband is fighting for our freedom in eastern Ukraine. I’m here with my mother, who is a widow and needs my attention, for she cannot travel far these days. And my father-in-law, we haven’t heard from in days. He’s back at the farm north of Kyiv, tending to the land and the animals. We are very worried for him.

I looked forward to Vinitaly every year, to meet with winemakers and my social media community. Especially hard it has been in the last two years because of the Covid. But now we face an even greater enemy to our being here in Ukraine.

I love Italy, their wine and food and people. I love how free the country is. I would bring back a little of Italy every time I went. I even loved Vinitaly. I didn’t mind the crowds, the confusion or the uniquely Italian form of organizing a large event like Vinitaly. Now I wish I had a bathroom here in Kyiv like the worst one I would ever find at Vinitaly. Or a dry panini and an overpriced bottle of frizzante water. It sounds like heaven to me.

But I am now part of the resistance against one of the most evil of humans, I cannot even say his name. But you know who I am talking about.

My husband has seen things no one should ever have to see. We are a peace-loving family. My children are innocent. We are innocent! But cruelty doesn’t distinguish between the guilty and the guiltless. No, the bombs from above are indiscriminate in their path of destruction. But we are not beaten. We are bloodied, yes. Our hearts are broken, but our spirit is unscathed. And we will win!

I’d love so much to see my friends at Vinitaly. But I’d love even more to see my father-in-law, my mother-in-law, my dear husband and my sweet, sweet children. I cannot even think about a wine fair, although I am guilty to say I dream about it. Maybe one day, in the future. But for now, we have more important things to attend to: Our Existence.        -Марія Павліченко

 

DONATE:

UNICEF USA Official Site - Help Children in Ukraine

SAVE THE CHILDREN - Ukraine Crisis Children's Relief 

DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS 

INTERNATIONAL COMMITTEE FOR THE RED CROSS 

UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR REFUGEES - Ukraine Aid

The Death of an Iconic Italian Restaurateur

In the book, “The Sicilian,” by Mario Puzo, there was a passage on a curved archway above a cemetery near Palermo. On that archway was the message: “WE HAVE BEEN LIKE YOU – AND YOU SHALL BE LIKE US.” Sobering words for any and all who are fortunate to breathe these few short moments on Earth.

Restaurateurs come and go, just like all of us. Some of them leave a bigger mark. Maybe it was the time they were in. Maybe they were just lucky. Maybe they were exceptional. Or all of the above. But nothing is forever.

From the Archives: The Stake Behind the Sizzle

From the archivesDriving along the scuttled roads of urban Austin, I finally found a parking place, after 10 minutes of searching. By some twist of fate, I managed to find a place in front of a building that once sheltered one of the most wonderful Italian spots in Texas. It was long gone now, replaced by serial restaurateurs with cash and concepts. The place was called Speranza’s, run by a young couple, Michael and Hallie Speranza, and it was a Mecca for anyone trying to show offbeat Italian wines in those days. The era was the early 1980’s and in the years since, many places have come and gone, and come again, professing to hold high the banner for all things Italian.

Vinitaly – Should I stay or should I go?

In three weeks, barring any further unforeseen crisis and impending world events, Vinitaly 2022 will commence. Having test driven Vinitaly last autumn, and forestalling and then cancelling the 2020 one, all indications are that it is safe to proceed. It’s time to get back on the saddle. Let’s go to Verona!

But are some of you are still hesitant? Well, first off, if you haven’t made flight plans, hotel reservations, secured your entrance badges/tickets and so forth, it’s probably a little late to consider going. However, if you live in Italy or have already, somewhere in the world, made travel arrangements, and you are having last-minute doubts, is there any substance to your fears? I’m going to try and lay it out, just in case you needed it.

Why blog about wine now?

I’ve got to say this: with what the world is witnessing right at this moment, I find it exceedingly difficult, if not absurd, to think about writing a post on a wine blog. Oh, two of the greatest Italian wines I’ve had this year? Who could, in their right mind, right now, care? A seminar on Italian wine? Big whoop. News flash: Another wine competition? Yeah, wow.

That, my friends, is where my head is at. I cannot tear myself away from the absolute horror that innocent women and children are experiencing in Ukraine. I feel powerless. It is depressing. It is bringing up memories from the cold war, such as October of 1962, and scaring the hell out of me. For all of us.

So, forgive me for not giving a shit if the pointless subject of Italian wine match-ups with Tex-Mex food is the furthest thing from my mind, at this time. Or the benefits of orange wine made in an artisanal manner vs. the commercial/industrial manufacturing of rosé wines. It just seems inconsequential in the scope of the greater forces of destiny swirling all around us.

Maybe things will change. For now, I’m stuck. I cannot see the forest for the trees. All I can see is the firebomb, the crater, the lifeless bodies of innocent babies being held by nurses who can do nothing to bring life back into their poor little bodies. That’s all I can think about, see or dwell upon. Until the madman who is causing this is rendered silent and lifeless himself.

DONATE:

UNICEF USA Official Site - Help Children in Ukraine

SAVE THE CHILDREN - Ukraine Crisis Children's Relief 

DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS 

INTERNATIONAL COMMITTEE FOR THE RED CROSS 

UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR REFUGEES - Ukraine Aid

"It’s the innocent people being attacked — the kids. It’s the kids, man. I just can’t stand by. I just can’t stand by" : American Veterans Join the Fight in Ukraine - NY Times

Ukrainian soldiers trying to save the father of a family of four — the only one at that moment who still had a pulse — moments after being hit by a mortar while trying to 

flee Irpin, near Kyiv, on Sunday. Credit...Lynsey Addario for The New York Times

"James was a medic who first saw combat when he replaced another medic killed in fighting in Iraq in 2006. He did two more tours, in Iraq and Afghanistan, seeing so much blood and death that 10 years after leaving the military he still attends therapy at a veteran’s hospital.

“But this week, as he watched Russian forces shell cities across Ukraine, he decided that he had to try to go there to help.

“‘Combat has a cost, that’s for sure; you think you can come back from war the same, but you can’t,’ James said in a phone interview from his home in Dallas, where he said he was waiting to hear back from Ukrainian officials. 'But I feel obligated. It’s the innocent people being attacked — the kids. It’s the kids, man. I just can’t stand by.’”

 - ‘I Just Can’t Stand By’: American Veterans Join the Fight in Ukraine

 

DONATE:

 

UNICEF USA Official Site - Help Children in Ukraine

SAVE THE CHILDREN - Ukraine Crisis Children's Relief 

DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS 

INTERNATIONAL COMMITTEE FOR THE RED CROSS 

UNITED NATIONS HIGH COMMISSIONER FOR REFUGEES - Ukraine Aid

Terroir and the Noösphere – How a French Jesuit paleontologist and a Russian-Ukrainian scientist named Vladimir set the stage for a rising wine culture

Terroir’s dough has been kneaded so much that the large Batard it started out as is looking more like flatbread. It’s been worked too hard.

But sometimes, we must roll the dough into a ball, moisten it, stick it somewhere dark and motionless, and let it rise again with hope for a new start. Or as Eric Asimov, wrote in a recent column, a “new culture.”

And so, all balled up and noöwhere to go, I delved into my post-graduate studies. This time it led me in time, back, to the future.

A Vinous Gordian Knot – the Old World/New World Conundrum

How many of us would really appreciate a greater deciphering of the “New World” vs. “Old World” utterances that have been casually tossed around for as many years as I have been in the wine world? Is North America (and her people) newer than say, Europe and her people? For this observer, to use the phrases Old World or New World, whether it be about wine or a place, doesn’t seem apt. Today, I’m burrowing into this, and, hopefully, not digging my grave.  

This Just In! Wine is Generational...

…as well as regenerational

So, I’ve been looking at this parade from the sky box, of late, and it has eventually dawned on me why there is an endless cacophony among wine lovers. It wasn’t something that snuck up on me. No, it has been there all the time. It was there when I was just starting out. I was just too inexperienced (or immature) to notice it. It is definitely there now. That it is misapprehended by young and old (and I am sure this is the reason), has to do with the interstellar effluvium that our galaxy sailed through in 2016, causing roughly half the people on Earth to think one way, and the other half to think in exact opposition to their contrary counterparts.

All conjecture aside, seriously, it hit me like a bolt of lightning. I was sitting outside with a friend, enjoying a glass of wine (or two), and there it was, simply laid out like tomorrow’s clothes. Wine changes, but the generation that observes and experiences it, changes what wine is, too. Just think about one wine, Port, and how, right now, it really isn’t that popular. But if I were to be stranded on an island, it could be my go-to wine. Probably a tawny.

“The Worst Year in Italian Wine History”

There was this wonderful period, in the mid-to-late 1980’s, when Italy was having a food and wine renaissance. Magazines in America touted it. French supremacy in the dining room, and in the wine cellar, was being challenged by their Italian cousins. The momentum was unheralded. Italian food and wine were climbing new mountains, and once they got to the top, they were singing arias that hadn’t been heard, ever. It was a magical, glorious time to be in the wine trade, and especially the Italian wine trade.

And then, just like the Hindenburg, it all went up in flames.

The Autostrada Interview

"An organism that is too greedy and takes too much without giving anything in return destroys what it needs for life and dies out." - Peter Wohlleben - The Hidden Life of Trees

“Do you mind if I record our conversation?” my fellow traveler asked. “I guess not,” I reluctantly replied. It was going to be a five-hour drive to our next appointment. I really was hoping my companion was more interested in listening to a podcast or an audio book. But Fredo is a chatty fellow, an extrovert to the max. “It’s just that I recently lost a friend. He was only 39. I wish I would have something of him, his words, to remember him as I drive down the lonely corridor of life.”

Why is it extroverts see the corridor of life as lonely? Maybe because they are screaming down the autostrada of life at 180 kph? Just maybe. Regardless, I was strapped in, he had the recorder on, and we weren’t getting out of this car for awhile. So it went.