Stanley Tucci, I really, really hate you!

Like many of us who follow such things, Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy has grabbed our attention. Those of us who haven’t gotten on a plane and traveled to all of Italy’s 20 regions in the last couple of years might have reason for just a tiny bit of jealousy directed towards Signore Tucci. Maybe even a small smattering of resentment. And being humans, that would be totally understandable. But that is not why I harbor any small amount of rancor towards him. After all, he is showing us parts of Italy we cannot reach, may never reach, couldn’t even find the places if we tried for a reach, right?

No, that’s all good. What caused me to twinge here and there while watching the series was a couple of other things.

My Last Trip to Italy

It had been a while since I was in Italy, so when the chance came to go, I grabbed the opportunity. This was not a junket, or even a free press trip. Which was fine. Everything I’d seen on social media with regards to those trips showed the same old people. It was as if they had their own cruise line, a semi-circle of acquaintanceship.

No, I was on my own, in a way. I wasn’t alone, but this wasn’t going to be a social event, the kind that junkets have become, especially now that covid resurrections are being lifted.

Blame It On The La Cá Növa

from the archives My first time visiting Piedmont was over a generation ago. At the time a winemaking revolution was in its infancy. The Italians had discovered small barrique and higher prices. New wineries were going up. It was the beginning of a cycle that only now is starting to make full circle. It was an exciting era for Italian wines and Piedmont. And they were getting world respect for their wines, like their cousins in Burgundy.

That initial visit we toured Barolo, Castiglione Falletto, Serralunga d'Alba , Diano d'Alba, Grinzane Cavour, La Morra, Monforte d'Alba and Novello. I also met winemakers and tasted in Neive, Treiso and Barbaresco. Somewhere between Bricco Faset and Rabajà I got religion. But it wasn’t until several years later that they let me in the church.

Friendship, Alcohol & Your Best Life

During the past three years, it seems as if time has slowed down. I know that’s not scientifically possible, but still something has changed. And as the world comes out of its self-imposed confinement, our values have shifted, at least for some of us. In the wine world, and most likely beyond, how we relate to one another, to material items, and our quality of life, they are all intertwined.

Three aspects are occupying my attention of late:

Is Italy (and Italian wine) heading towards a catastrophic precipice?

Italy MMXXII ~ Quo Vadis?

Probably not the best headline for a blog in terms of SEO. Maybe better to use “Italy 2022, and her impending economic, environmental, political, agricultural and social turmoil, following on the heels of the post-pandemic (or is it?) era.”  Yes, we have much to consider, starting with the wine grape harvest.

Regardless of the quality or quantity of the harvest, which on its own is worthy of deeper consideration, but taking into account a larger vista in which wine, as an agricultural bi-product, is made with the labor of humans and the energy of technology. Say what?

Fasten your seat belts, folks.

Italy's "Miracle Harvest" for the 2022 Wine Crop

"Un Miracolo!"

Get ready, for here it comes! The long-awaited (and inevitable) treatise tsunami over the 2022 Italian grape harvest. Just like the ubiquitous dissertations on the perfect Thanksgiving wine or the vaulted Springtime piece on the gaggle of new rosé wines. Why do we love these so? Too many scribes today are looking for the easy-layout, the slam dunk, the no-brainer, when it comes to content. The 21^st century has broken everything, and the internet leads the way, always and in every way. So, let’s get ready for a plethora of boilerplate and an avalanche of cliché, with regards to the 2022 harvest. It will be epic!

When an Italian Takes to Drink

Normally, most of us find it inconceivable to come upon an Italian with a drinking problem. Wine, and to a lesser extent, beer and spirits, have been an integral part of the Italian table. Moderation was something my Sicilian grandfather instilled in me as a young boy. I rarely saw anyone, at our family gatherings, mildly drunk or otherwise. It just wasn’t a thing, alcoholism, in our family or our Italian culture.

And then, we moved to the desert when I was a kid, and we lived across from an Italian family. The husband was a screen writer, although his wife once told me he was a gofer for a famous television producer. He always seemed to be hanging around the house when he wasn’t out running errands, or as he liked to say, polishing up a script. Actually, what he was really good at was polishing off a bottle, night after night. He was harmless enough when he was sauced up, as long as he wasn’t behind the wheel. But I saw, first-hand, how an alcoholic functioned in his world. And it wasn’t pretty.

It is no small thing, when an Italian takes to drink. In my travels in Italy, over 50 years, I’ve witnessed little, if any, examples of an Italian for whom alcohol have gotten the better of them. Americans, well, that’s another story. Countless times I’ve dragged besotted colleagues to their room and dumped them in their bed, dead drunk. How, I asked myself, did they get that way? I was with them the whole evening. I'd had my share of wine, but it didn’t waste me.

Eataly taken over by a global private equity conglomerate? Say it ain't so!

Recent news from abroad has it that Eataly has had a change of ownership. Investindustrial, headed up by Andrea Bonomi, has acquired 52% (majority) share for about $200 million. Not a ridiculous amount for a concept that started almost 20 years ago.

Now, according to the website, Grocery Dive, Eataly is in “more than 40 locations in 15 countries including eight flagship stores in North America and 16 franchise stores across Europe, the Middle East and Asia.” Quite a jump from their initial shop in Northern Italy.

$200 million seems like a small amount for 40 locations. I wonder how much debt the original company might have piled up. Was that debt erased? Who, if anyone, walked away with millions? What changes will come about? Expect  more expansion, and expect the Bastianich family will sell their shares, as part of the deal (as per The Financial Times).

Wine, Watches & Cigars – Is There No Ceiling?

Recently, I popped into my local grocery store, Central Market, in Dallas. On the wall was a bottle of Château Pontet-Canet 2016 for $200.00.

On the Rolex website, one of their newest watches, a GMT-Master II “Pepsi” lists for $10,750 retail, but try and find one new for that price. On the secondary market though, you might be able to find one for twice retail.

I’m reading an article in Cigar Aficionado, and they’re talking about Cohiba Cuban cigars now retailing for over $100.

Before the great disruption event of 2016, you could have easily found a bottle of Pontet-Canet for under $80, still a price most people wouldn’t consider, except for maybe a special occasion, and well above the price I remember seeing the 1982 stacked in my local Safeway (for $12.99!). A Rolex, five years ago you could have gone into a local AD (authorized dealer) and picked one up, at retail. Still a pricey proposition, but reachable for folks with the means. And that Cohiba Splendido? Well, in Canada or Italy I saw them for about $10, back in the day. Still, a pricey smoke, but not a C-note!

Something is out of whack. Are we living in a world exclusively comprised of billionaires? Is there no ceiling on these consumer items? Have we all gone mad? Where in hell have we landed? Is there a way off of this planet?

A World Without Italian Wine

Who among us could imagine a world without wine from Italy? Well, I’m sure there are those teetotalers who have and do. And there are those for whom alcohol is an addiction, and they as well could, and should, imagine such. But for those of us who are not controlled by alcoholic urges and for whom wine is a safe and healthy accompaniment to our meals and our friendships, wine no longer from Italy is unthinkable.

But not impossible. With threats from global climate change, changes in animal migrations, land wars, and general convulsive nature of our world, could Italian wine be wiped off the face of Earth?

I Numeri Del Vino - My World in Italian Wine

People who know me, know I have this thing about spread sheets. No, I’m not a bean counter or a number cruncher. I don’t even like the word “metrics,” as it triggers uncomfortable meetings with dull accountants. But I do like lists, and they often include numerical jottings.

For instance, I have a spread sheet on my cholesterol numbers going back to the mid 1980’s. And a list of all the foreign trips I have taken to Italy and elsewhere. I also have a spreadsheet which tells me what I have in my freezer. A list of my watches. A list of valuable coins I’ve inherited (watches and coins are vaulted up, folks). I have a spread sheet of the wines I have collected, so I can access any wine I want within seconds. Ditto for my vinyl LP and CD collection. You never know when one will want to spin Steely Dan’s Aja or Moondog’s Snaketime Series.

Narcicentricism

From the archives

Bagging 'n Bragging

How many times do we have to read about it? Yes, some folks out there get to taste some amazing wines. But to open up the wine magazines or blogs and constantly have to be reminded how lowly we are because we didn’t taste a 10-year vertical of Gaja Darmagi or an 1852 Naval Reserve Madeira Sercial, really, how much of this can we take? I am on a riff about Elitism again, because it is rife in the 21st century of electronic wine literature. A wine lover opens up a whole slew of rare wines and invites a friend or two over and, Pow! An enthusiast or blogger has to regurgitate every wine, every nuance, every breath of their so wonderful evening. As if us knowing about it will make it greater for us? As if their life was all "A" side with no "B" side. Maybe for them. But really, is it?

Why you can’t find your favorite natural wine at the local liquor shop.

I’ve often ventured into random wine and liquor stores across the globe. It can give one a cultural snapshot of a sort. What people sell and what people buy. What’s on the shelf and what’s not on the shelf. I’m often baffled, sometimes surprised, but seldom disappointed. I mean, we’re not looking for King Tut’s tomb in Flower Mound, Texas.

What intrigues me about any selection one finds in their local liquor store is the polarity between what the buyer thinks will sell and what some of us folks want to see in the store because it personally resonates with us. And I have to say, natural wine and the selection, or lack thereof, can offer a sociological cautionary tale, here in the bowels of America.

Why do you wish to explain my world to me?

This is going to be a bit of a ramble. But humor me. I think I’m going somewhere with this. It’s just going to take time to unpack this bag of seemingly disparate notions that recently came into confluence. I promise I’ll get to it, eventually.  

So, we’ve been watching this TV series at home called, “This Is Us.” We’re into the 5th season of six. It was a popular series, seen on broadcast television. We’re streaming it. Of course.

All this to say, when they got into the season of 2020, with Covid and George Floyd, a lot of issues between White and Black people in the series were laid bare. And it got me to thinking about my blind spots, with regard to Bipoc and Apida peoples.

How to destroy your Italian wine legacy in one generation

The following is a pirated Zoom transcript from a putative conversation between two old friends – an ancient matriarch (Maria, or, M) of a renown Italian wine estate and her venerable importer (Carl, or, C) in the US. Howdy-do from an innermost and very particular cyber-labyrinth, seldom penetrated by we mere mortals.  

C: Hello darling, how goes it in the bowels of Italy in August? Are you somewhere cool and wet, I hope?

M: I wish, my dear. No, I am sequestered on our family estate, as my three nieces have Covid. They came for a visit and brought this dreadful virus with them.

C: Oh no! You poor dear. I hope your satellite internet is working, so the children can document their every breath on their Insta.

M: Of course. They live such fascinating lives and we all must keep up with it. What a time we live in, yes?

C: Tell me about it. Shall we jump right in?

M: Of course. Fire away, maestro.