Reinventing Italy

The Italy that Americans forget

Lately I’ve taken to reading excerpts from people’s trips to Italy. Wine country, the cities, the fashionable resorts, the restaurants, the countryside. And one thing has stood out from some of those missives. It is the unique position we all have, the singular perspective of Italy from our own point of view, and how it affects how we see and interpret Italy to others. This is no simple thing, for there are as many Italy’s as there are people experiencing it. But what makes some of those dispatches noteworthy are the way they not only envelop the teller of tales and their particular cosmogony, but how it brings others into their whirlpool in a way in which the Italy they have created is fully believable and not just a hopeful fabrication that they’ve hoisted once again upon the rest of us.

In other words, that they have given to us an Italy we can share in and not just revel at their prowess in getting there and throwing everything into the kitchen sink of detail in order to regale and influence us, to magnify their place in the pantheon of Italianita, and make it seem they are more important than the story they are trying to tell. This is no easy thing, for it requires self-confidence, for sure. But it also requires stopping the world and letting their intimacy with place take over and be the over-riding influence over one’s perceptions. So much for being invisible, to an extent, yes, but also being open to the cuckoo call in the glen, the gurgle of the stream below the window of one’s hotel, the absolute quiet of the moment, which is always there behind the incessant rattling of the monkey-brain.

The Luxurious Privilege of Outrage

I was taking a coffee break recently with a friend, catching up, and he remarked about some crappy restaurant service he’d recently gotten. I quipped back at him, “Yeah, you’ve got it real rough. You’re white, you’re financially set and you’re relatively healthy and young enough. Sounds like your 1%^er  white privilege is kicking in, cowboy.” He laughed. Of course, our banter can get a bit barbed, but it’s usually not jugular. But it can be to the point. I could have easily made that same remark in the mirror and it would have had an equal degree of accuracy. So, no glass houses here.

Lucania ~ As I See It

from the archives...

Forget anything you know about Basilicata and Southern Italy. Disregard anyone telling you this is the poorest region in all of Italy. What I’m about to tell you, I hope, will change what and how you think about this region and the South.

What does the “Future You” look like in the world of wine?

The other day, I listened in on an NPR TED Hour podcast about what the “future you” looks like. Who will you be in 5 years? In 20 years? Are there things about yourself you’d like to improve upon, or change, and how do you envision going about that?

Indeed, for all of the Italian wine world, the future will change. What capacities and strengths and wisdom will our future selves have that we might not have today?

“Take heed” - Random thoughts about the professional climate change in the wine trade

Ok, here goes. I’ve been in a quandary lately. Don’t know why. Maybe it’s the heat. Maybe the state of the country. Or the world. In any event, I’m thinking about these things. Think of it as a “take heed” list.

Italian wines for the summer of ‘23

Here’s the thing: Life, at any age, can be as rich or as impoverished as one can stand it to be. There, so much for my philosophy of late. Now let’s talk about Italian wine. Huh? On the wine trail in Italy, talking about Italian wine? Well, how about that!

I was making my regular run though my local Italian store here in Dallas, Jimmy’s, when a I saw this stack of wine from Friuli at what appeared to be unbelievably low prices. The winery in question was LeVigne di Zamo’, a winery which I visited many years ago, when it was called Abbazia di Rosazzo. An historic place and an important winery, as the winemaker at the time was reputed to be one of the great winemaking stars of Italy. And the wines were exceptional.

And the wind, it cries Mary [Redux]

After all the jacks are in their boxes

And the clowns have all gone to bed

You can hear happiness staggering on down the street

Footprints dressed in red

And the wind whispers Mary

I woke up from a dream last night. My wife Lizanne, who passed away in 2001, appeared. She was no longer sick, but she was delicate. She only appeared for a moment, and in her way she kindly tapped me on the shoulder. Remember. Outside the wind was blowing.

We all run around making busy lives for ourselves to fill them up with meaning. We are like the little goti glass of Venice, made from left over scraps of glass, all different. All fragile. But still we step outside in the wind, and we run. And run. Competing in a race we will never win. But still, we run.

A faux pas (from the past) in New York and a stunning Sauvignon Blanc (from the present) by way of Friuli

An old colleague of mine texted recently and told me about the death of a French wine producer we knew. We had gotten to know him over the years when he came to Texas to work. We sold his products. We even had a men’s tasting group based loosely on one of the top wines of the estate. A nice group, including the national sales manager for the estate.

A few years ago, in NY for the Wine Spectator Experience, my friend told me to join him for the dinner at a nearby restaurant with said Frenchman. I said I had not been invited. He said, “Hey, we’re friends of his. We all formed a tasting group around one of his greatest wines, ‘The Friends of Chuck!’” So, I went with him.

Peddling Prosecco on Skid Row – An Anamnesis

My last paying gig in the wine trade was as a national ambassador for a venerable maker of Prosecco. One of the days I was out, working the market, in Los Angeles, near where I was born. Los Angeles is a lot of things to a lot of people, but to Angelinos it holds a special place in one’s heart. So, to go back home and be thrust out into the streets, with a bag full of wine and a day full of appointments, was a memorable occurrence.

Chef Alessio Franceschetti - Bacchus Recalls One of its Stewards, Back to the Great Vineyard

Happy Days - Alessio in the kitchen at
Jimmy's with Valeria Losi of Querciavalle

Sad news here, Alessio Franceschetti passed away this week. Alessio was a restaurateur in Dallas, Texas. Our lives were intertwined because of wine. Alessio made significant contributions to the furtherance of greatness of Italian food and wine, in Dallas (and America) in the 20^th century and beyond. He will be sorely missed. This is his story.

Italy is Ready For You – Are You Ready for Italy?

Recently I returned to Italy, after an absence of four years – for me, the longest interlude in a generation. It couldn’t be helped. There was Covid, of course, which altered everyone’s life on the planet. But there were subtle factors; health, the invasion of Ukraine by Russia, the economic turbulence in the world. And the reality that Italy was hit hard by the pandemic and I wanted to give it enough time for them to recover and be ready for visitors.

Well, they’re ready for you – but are you ready for Italy?

Gone Fishin'

 

Shipping out for a short while. Back in a bit. 

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Sunday Funnies: Dale De-Spoofilates *

There is a hint here, regarding future comings and goings. Needless to say, I dont have a lot of time to post right now, or for the next few weeks. So, for now, I leave you with this archived funny. See you in the future with loads of new tales. Happy Easter!

* De-Spoofilate : After five days at Vinitaly, to purge the tannins of the Super Tuscans and the awesomeness of the Amphoristi, by taking time in Venice, for a personal makeover. 

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Three Hopeful Nudges for the Italian Wine World

With the Italian wine world convening in Verona for another Vinitaly (the 55^th), and as people shake off the last three years of a pandemic which isolated all of us, what will prevent the wine world from falling back into the old habits and ruts of the past?

Our brainstorming crew has come up with three possible nudges to avoid settling back into past patterns and comforts, seeing as the world has fundamentally changed. In essence, there is no going back. But there will be people who will insist on the tried and true, although tired and timeworn it is, in reality. But let them eat cake, or vitello tonnato, or whatever it is that gives them comfort and solace. As for those who wish to embrace the present and the future, here are the team’s suggestions.

The Four Pillars of Italian Wine

Italian wine is a diverse sea of flavors, colors, buoyancies, styles and price points. There are thousands of grapes, and as many or more wines to go along with it. But what drives the business? What grows the market share? And what keeps the lights on?

It falls to four wines, all with relatively humble beginnings. The four wines encompass four different types of wines – white, red , sparkling and sweet. And although they may not be on the tip of the tongues of today’s tony sommeliers, they provide needed cover for the more esoteric and trendy wines currently being touted by the in-crowd and influencer-wannabes.Too often we chase the trends and forget what brought us here.

Caution advisory: These are not considered cool wines by the high toned up-and-comers. Those dashers consider them boring, dull, run of the mill, yawn, give-me-a-break, get-away-from-me type of wines. They are misinformed.