Featured Father ~ Albert Moulin

He's already been gone half a year, this son of New Orleans, father and mentor to so many of us. Al was one of the forefathers of wine in America. He was there at the beginning, right after World War II, when the budding wine industry got its start. A great story teller, a proud grandfather, a lover of women, a classic New Orleans chef, and a slave to the wine god, in the very best sense.

This isn’t an easy post to write, because we are all still smarting from his absence. Two years ago, on Fathers Day, we slipped some Champagne and appetizers into his room at the home he was temporarily staying. He couldn’t live alone at the time and he bemoaned the dismal vittles. So we rustled in some tasty contraband.

He always had the New York Times Food section open somewhere near his reach, along with the op-ed section. Well read, an active mind, an engaged soul, who loved passionately and deeply. Sometimes too much.

I still remember his home phone number, but he’s not there. When I was in New Orleans last month, I had a dream about him. He’s dancing in Galatoire’s, making mischief in Commander’s Palace, lifting tablecloths in Brennan’s. He belongs to the Ancients now.

Al had an encyclopedic knowledge of classic food and wine, but he was always interested in what was coming around the corner. I met him when I was just starting out in the wine business; he was still on the streets. We both called on a wine store owned by a South African gent, and Al was in there pitching wine from Chile. This was in 1981!

He had a collection of menus from New Orleans and all over the country. He had stories about the wine business, some which were archetypal. They were, for me, instructional from the point of view that they indicated markers along the career track that would later come across my path. I learned survival skills from Al, who mentored me for a generation. Like other mentors who influenced my trail, they are life lessons that I use often. Those who knew Al, or who have had that kind of guidance, know how extraordinarily lucky one can be to have that exposure.

Al loved women; he had an invisible pheromone that attracted young and beautiful women to him all his life. Maybe it was his famous Café Brulot or his Coquilles St. Jacques. Anytime I walked into his home there would be something cooking. And there was often a beautiful lass by his side, learning his technique. He was a gentleman, and he loved the ladies.

Few people know that Al first brought American wines into the White House. It was his second tour of duty, the first being World War II. Al loved this country and being a true son of New Orleans, was a national treasure to me, much like the Crescent City is, to many of us in our country.

From French and Italian heritage he loved butter and olive with equality. And wine? We talked about wine all the time, his library of food and wine books was a research center for me. Whenever I had a question about something that I could not find, I’d call Al and he’d get back to me with the answer. Often he would have several versions.

Our conversations burned through cords and cords of wood, over the years. He was a happy man and a role model for me, not just about the successes, but also for the failures. When he was afflicted with a stroke, some years ago, he reinvented himself, embraced physical therapy and found a new interest in physical therapists, especially when they were young and pretty.

Later, when my wife was struck down by M.S., Al was there to listen to me, to share a glass of Chianti or Cognac, to be my friend and my wine dad.

Life for Al was never half empty. It was neither half full. For Al, pardon the cliché, but his cup always runneth over. And he was more than happy to invite friend and stranger alike to the party, to share his table, his love and his joy for life.

Happy Fathers Day Al, we’ll raise a flute in your honor today, though I know our Champagne will pale in comparison to the cuvee you will toasting with Tim Russert and all your gang.

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

Headlines & Quotes ~ Interns & Avatars

Excuse me, but I have just had one of the best food and wine combinations of the year. I was out with friends to an outdoor concert with picnic food. They brought fried chicken and I brought a bottle of Pio Cesare Arneis. Holy Mother of God, was that a match made in Heaven. Give it a try sometime, no kidding. OK, back to business.

This was the week I was quoted but this wasn’t the week my “deal” came through, whatever that is ‘sposed to mean. Anyway, it’s Friday the 13th, so I thought a little “spoof” would be a fun way to end the week.


All kidding aside, there were a few notable quotes from a local mag and a Houston paper. Earlier in the week I got an email about a wine blogger conference in Sonoma in October. The day before I was invited to participate in a series of Italian seminars across the country, sponsored by the Italian Trade Commission. We shall see.

Press is good – Sales is mo’ bettah. And this week I have been pounding the pavement, like I promised. With more to come. Austin, Houston, I’s a comin’.

About my Intern-Avatars. Here in flyover country we need ways to help us carry the message and I am in the throes of trying to decide which new Intern-Avatar I should choose. We have narrowed it down to two.

The hottie and the nerd.


I’m kind of leaning toward the nerd, as she seems to have a better sense of her place in the world. And it seems she has a more timeless design sense. Of course she can be a little blasé. Please feel free to comment.

These are not a real people. This is not a real post. Except for the quotes. They are real.

So were the chicken and the Arneis.

OK, back to business.

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

Who Died and Made You Dr. Zaius?

This was supposed to be the follow up to the last post. But I need a break from serious. So let’s have a little summer camp, eh? Besides, I have these wonderful pictures that are so timely.

Italy loves the paternal, the overseer, the luxury of primacy, when it comes to culture, food, fashion and sometimes, wine. But let the administrators in and you might as well let the monkeys run the place.

Not that the good ‘ol US isn't straining under its own weight of dominance these days. Our Hummer mentality is crashing into wall after wall, the gas tank is nearly empty, and we still want to call all the shots. And we probably will until they pry the power from our cold, dead hands.


Meanwhile, Montalcino has decided to upstage Spoleto, unveiling their operetta about “the little red wine that coulda-shoulda-woulda.” What a mess they have made of this Brunello business, to the point that the US has had to scare up a tomato scandal just to get a little ink.

So now we’ve had inexcusable mozzarella in Southern Italy, dubious red wine from Tuscany and wayward tomatoes somewhere in the Americas. What will we eat? How will the Commedia continuare?

And we worry about a wine list and its relevancy. How can one be so vacuous, so insensitive?

We worry about endangered grapes from Ischia and Cadenabbia. And our levels of certification. Really?

From Zardoz to Zaius
I’m taking a break from Zardoz and hangin’ with Dr. Zaius for a post or two. Is that a Nehru seersucker suit, I wonder?

Anyway, seems that the administrators have wrestled the monitoring of the Brunello appellation from the Consorzio.

Steven Kolpan of NY, commented in Decanter that “Brunello di Montalcino is one of the world's greatest wines, and it makes no sense for its producers to shoot themselves in their collective foot. Perhaps one day the world will find out exactly what happened to create this scandal in Montalcino and beyond, but something tells me it's not really about the quality of the wine or the commitment of Brunello producers.”
Look, it might not be all that wrong to appoint fellows like Dr. Riccardo Ricci Curbastro, president of Federdoc (National Federation of Voluntary Consortia for the Oversight of Italian Wine Appellations); Professor Vasco Boatto, director of Enology, Department of Agronomy, University of Padua); and Dr. Fulvio Mattivi, director of the analysis laboratory Istituto di San Michele all’Adige (the institute of enology, province of Trento). Still, the way it is being delivered seems like it comes straight out of the playbook of paterfamilia.

Eric Asimov blogs from The Pour about this. One thought he finished with resonated with me. He said, “Internal politics, local animosities, rivalries and disputes that may have little to do with the actual public issue may all be playing out behind the scenes.”

It just seems that there is a byzantine process in play here, and outsiders, of whom virtually most of us are, can only speculate.

Odd, that in California they can add Syrah and Teroldego to Pinot Noir in an effort to boost the profile of a wine that in places like Burgundy and Trentino they rest on their own. Odd especially for Trentino, as Teroldego grows with Pinot Nero in proximity to each other. And two different wines are made and appreciated for their own merits.

Curious, that Bordeaux can grapple with their image and make changes. And they who have much to lose from making the wrong change.

We will see. But I wonder, will the world really care about Brunello once they’ve let their little operetta play out? Already we are seeing Brunello sales going soft. Again, the 2003 vintage won’t be considered a classic by many of us out here in flyover country. Then again, in flyover country it seems there are other concerns, like the corn harvest. And what to do with all of these tomatoes. And soon all those darn melons. It’s just too much for man and ape alike.

Where’s Barbarella when you need her?

Maybe I need another vacation; this time a quiet place with a beach, perhaps?

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

Still photos from the film, Planet of the Apes, with an occasional exception or two.

Certified vs. Qualified

“You’ll never make it to Master Sommelier,” A friend recently fired across my bow. “And you’ll never make it to 60,” was my instant come back. We have a history of tagging each other that is otherwise benign, but stimulating.

Several days later, I was thinking my favorite thought. It goes like this: “So what?” It is intended to help me delve into a subject that I am hoping will be interesting for a post, an article, even a future book. Usually after about two minutes (max) I find something to straighten out, a shelf that needs dusting, a pile of shirts that need to be mangled. And that usually wiggles me out of answering “the question that must be answered.”

In the last week I have been in conversations with winemakers, sommeliers, merchants, writers, and restaurateurs. This has been the week where I have heard, many times, the subject of wine lists that have been put together by young sommeliers. And the response by many folks I have talked to this week has been almost uniform in that they feel these young wine professionals are assembling lists more to reflect their prowess than to address the needs of their diners.


When a wine list was assembled, let’s say in the classic period of the 1970’s, there was the custom to arrange the wines by region and to cover pretty much all the bases with regards to the kind of restaurant the wine list was for. If it was a French restaurant, then the regions of France would be represented, usually with some deference to Bordeaux and Burgundy. But Alsace, the Loire, the Rhone and Champagne would be there too. If it were a “Continental” styled restaurant in the United States, the format would be similar to the French but would also include a token Italian, some German wines of course, wine from Portugal and Spain, sparingly, and possibly some New World wines included to excite the newer diners. If it were an Italian restaurant, the regional list would be drawn up, and pretty well much across the US, the wine list would be the same. Perhaps a grower or shipper would be different from coast to coast and if it were in a region where the supply was weaker, the wine list would reflect that in a minimized expression.

California showed up on the world stage and along with Nouvelle Cuisine, and then New American Cooking, New World wines came to dominate. If a medium-range style of restaurant grew into a regional chain or even a national chain, the wine list would be small but utilitarian, usually boring. All the while people in the US were starting to drink more wine and get interested in different wines

About that point the rise in the American Sommelier started to eclipse the traditional Tastevin-carrying sommelier. That was about the time tuxedo-wearing waiters receded into the sunset. It was as if these young Turks had newly discovered wine for the first time (and for them it was just that). But certain mistrust for the traditions of the antique predecessors were planted and cultivated.

The Conspiracy of Gruner
When we started seeing 10 selections of Gruner Veltiner on by-the-glass lists, a few people mentioned to me that they thought the wheels had fallen off the wagon. Usually this would come from an industry person who had seen the slow growth of the wine business and was wondering why the young sommeliers were jettisoning all the passengers off the train. “They think they can force diners to drink what they want to drink?” was a comment I would hear often.

“The people will drink what I tell then to drink,” was one sommeliers response, similar to what Orson Wells character said about his readers in the famous movie, Citizen Kane.

If you include only what you like on a list, yes, the people will drink only what is on it. But if there are wines on the list that attend only to an educated palate, or a newly educated palate, or further, a palate that has been trained to evaluate wine based on a particular course of study, where does that leave the common person? Or the person who might have tastes that differ from the elevated tastes of the professionals.

I am in tastings all the time with people who aren’t certified, or don’t have 25+ years of experience, and it is important to be able to communicate in a way that brings them into the fold, allows them their validity in their feelings about wine. Am I always right? Hardly. Is the new wine drinker the expert? No, but they are the future.

Can we build a future with Gruner? Unlikely, but sommeliers will tell you that they have already moved on to Greek wines or Biodynamic wines or wines from the Jura or Valle D’Aoste or Patagonia or Tasmania. Taste is a moving target and the evolution of one’s personal taste is a journal of intellectual and emotional development. Hopefully a sommelier can understand how to communicate that journey to his or her clientele so that if will be an adventure, not a death march

Why Subject the Diner to One's Personal Path?
If you are a person with many interests, and curiosities, than your list can be seen as a window into your wine loving soul. Antonio Gianola has put together a really wonderful wine list at Catalan in Houston. He has taken the occasion to bring wines into his establishment for people who don’t have the time to go through all the wines that he goes through. He thinks about them deeply, is enthusiastic about the process, charges fairly, and when you have him come to your table he always has a great little nugget. And he’s got you at halbtrocken.

Yes he’s young and his tastes are evolving. But he has a good foundation, so where he is taking the diner and where he is going will be to good places. A discovery, not a drag.

The Dark Side of Wine Stewardship
Re: the case of another sommelier. Let’s invent one here so I can form it from the muck of my little compost pit in purgatory. I will call him Charles Kane. Charles (don’t call me Chuck and don’t call me Charlie) is pursuing his WSET, MS, MW and CWE. He is on track to become the world’s foremost authority on wine before he is 25. He has already worked ten years in a restaurant, six years in a winery (two as head winemaker) and started his own import company and spun it off to a Silicon Valley company and he is writing two books on wine along with having a book contract for his memoirs. That’s what his resume says.
He is currently working for a restaurant group from NY, as a wine list manager in one of their Southern satellite restaurant concepts. There is a core list he must adhere to (if the items are available) and then he has free reign to about 80% of the list. He has decided that this New American style of restaurant should showcase wines from small growers and suppliers, so he can have the exclusive bragging rites to all the great wines he has “discovered.” The restaurant also has a pretty lively bar scene.

Yes, Gruner is on the list, as are a few biodynamic wines from the Loire and Friuli. He also has a selection of highly extracted Malbecs (15+% alc) by the glass (starting at $12 for a one ounce taste). He has elected to not have any of the popular Champagnes or Proseccos. He has instead opted for hard to get (and hard to keep in stock) grower Champagnes. His wine costs are a staggeringly low 26%. And his bar manager is running a 16% cost at the bar. Mojitos are outselling wine by the glass, 2-to-1. And specialty drinks, usually fruity and liqueur based (from those same import houses that the sommelier won’t buy the Champagnes from) and they too outsell wine almost 2-to-1.

The good news? The place is making a lot of money selling alcohol. The bad news? They aren’t doing it by selling an overly-esoteric and overpriced selection of wines which showcase the superiority of the sommelier.

MP3, not LP
A Sonoma Chardonnay by the glass? “Why care about that?” he replies, “when they can drink a barrel-fermented Viognier from Paso?” How about a nice Pouilly-Fiuisse or Chablis, lets say something in the vein of Chateau Fuisse’s Les Brûlés or Jean Dauvissat’s Vaillons or Sechets? “Tired old appellations” he barks, “our customers are looking for new wines, exciting wines. They’re looking for MP3, not LP.”

MP3, not LP. That pretty well much says it for this kind of character who is flooding the wine lists lately with his condensed version of the Compleat Wine List. Kane’s is a Spark Notes rendering of The Current Fashion in Wine Lists. And just like MP3 is a compressed, low fidelity substitute for a full range recording, wine lists, without breadth and depth, are emerging.

OK, OK, not all of the New Sommeliers are making lists like this. But too many lists seem to be a testosterone-driven search for recognition so they can land the “big job”. Is it no wonder people are drinking Tequila and Vodka at levels once seen in the 1980’s? They are just looking for something in this information-tsunami world that they can recognize, and find comfort in that recognition.

It isn’t about the chops of the sommelier, about his or her ascendancy over all of the rest of us. It still is about the Customer and Their Happiness.

A photographer I once trained with drummed this mantra into me, “Just because you’re certified, doesn’t mean you’re qualified.”

Something for all the aspirants out there to think about. At least those who have managed to turbo-scan all the way to the end of this post.





[Next post: So what makes you (or anyone) qualified?]

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

For Scotty

Cruising on through to the end of the week here in Wineland. It’s been a busy week, with Monday and Tuesday taken up with judging at a Wine Competition and Thursday and today traveling through Texas. So this post will be a weekly round-up as we surf on into the sunset and take a few days off.

Story told around lunch about a server in a restaurant who came up to the owner and said she had a client who had come in to get a wine for Scotty. The owner, a longtime friend, related this story. He struggled to understand what the server was asking for. “His friend was in Rome and told him to get a bottle of that white wine they had all enjoyed when over there on vacation," the server said.

And who said Italian wines were complicated?


Heading south from the Colli Albani, I had an email from a blogger. He had just returned from Campania and I had some questions for him about the wine show he went to, called VitignoItalia.

Q- Is it worth going to?

A- I think Vitignoitalia is worth going to. It's a fairly focused event. The original intent of the congresso was to showcase wines from local vines from all over Italy. While there were some producers from regions like Tuscany, Piemonte and other central-northern areas, the majority were from the Mezzogiorno. The key tasting events were geared to grapes like Greco di Tufo and Aglianico, the local heroes of Campania and huge favorites of mine. It's a 3-day event, but for various reasons, it's probably better to go for two days.

Q- How does it compare to Merano and other regional events?

A- Like Merano, it is very poorly organized. On my blog I complained that Merano combined the best of Teutonic charm and Italian efficiency. Vitignoitalia is more genial, which reflects the local culture, but its tardiness in opening and general disorganization was frustrating for the exhibitors and the wine public alike. The space, at the Mostra d'Oltremare, isn't the most conducive to an easy flow of people and goods, but it beats the Kurhaus at Merano by a country kilometer.

The Mostra d'Oltremare is a fair distance from the main hotels downtown or on the Lungomare, which means you stand a very good chance of getting ripped off by taxi drivers. An annoying but eternal fact of life in Naples.

On the positive side, the fiera was pretty focused -- I learned a lot from tasting, for example, a whole row of exhibitors' Grecos -- there were many sections highlighting one grape or one small DOC or DOCG. And because many of the producers are truly small-scale and from peasant families, the "authentic," non-industrial character of the wines shines through. And not just wines -- many typical products were on display and for tasting, including cheeses, olive oils, pastas and so forth.

Q- Would you go back?

A- A qualified yes. I would go for two days, not all three. And I'd focus my energy on trying new producers' wines, not hanging out with people I knew already.

Q- Wine wise- what kind of energy do you take away from it?

A- Campania and the south in general are in ferment. Things are changing fast. The wines are infinitely better than they used to be, since there is today a greater and greater emphasis on quality, not volume. Farmers who used to sell their grapes to big, bulk wineries now make their own wine, and it's often astonishingly good. And of course prices are far more realistic and internationally competitive than in places like Tuscany, Piemonte and Veneto. The price quality ratio in the Mezzogiorno is generally great -- better than South America, I think, when you put more emphasis on quality than on the lowest possible price.

Q- Any other comments?

A- What can I say? I gravitate more and more to the Mezzogiorno's wines. I wrote, at least two years ago, "Salvezza viene dal Sud" (Salvation comes from the South). Believe me, now that I've actually been there a number of times, I believe that more, and with more justification, than before.

The Mezzogiorno's wines are catching up with the food -- which is far and away the best in Italy.

For those of us who couldn't make it, but wanted the lowdown, thanks!

And lastly, a few days ago I had a fairly dismal report on the state of Italian wine sales in the US. Happily, as I have made the Texas round-about, I am seeing a healthier and more robust economy in these parts. Maybe part of it is Texas bluster. Then I look in the restaurants and see full rooms and jammed parking lots. So what do I know?

That’s my weekly round-up from these parts. Back on Sunday.

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

Mean Streets

The last two months, for Italian wines in the US, have been less than stellar. In fact, 2008, in the world I am looking at, looks like we have, once again, hit the wall.

Spending is down, in dollars, but more so in cases. That means that we are spending less but buying even fewer cases. The Dollar = Euro makes it seem like more dollars are being spent. But less cases are going out. Period.

It’s also that way with spirits and other wines. And we are going into summer. Long. Hot. Summer.

So while we wax poetically about Greco and Garganega, this isn’t looking to be a blockbuster summer for Italian wines. People are emptying their gas tanks and their liquor cabinets.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing. After all, Americans (and our government) have been living high on credit without saving for a rainy day. It is now officially moist. So time to reduce inventories and start to rebuild.

Suppliers are screaming for more space in the big warehouses, but people are not expanding, they are not making big changes in the up-tick department. They are trading down. One retailer told me today, when I asked him about Brunello, that he wasn’t seeing expensive Italian wine as a value in today’s world. I mentioned to him that we had a 2002 Brunello that he could sell for about $35.00 and he got excited. And ordered a case. A six-bottle case. We are going to prop up the Holy Roman Empire, 6 bottles at a time. And we cannot expect New York to hold up all of the sky. There aren't enough cranes.

The Italian Wine Daughter wrote me, today, twice:
1) "I think sales will be down, overall, but people are still buying. There may be a revolt once fuel prices start to affect deliveries (possible higher minimums, etc), but this is going to happen in the biz in general, as in every other sector of our lives. Chains are strong, independent restaurants are going both ways. Hopefully we can look at this positively: even with this ecomony, people are still drinking wine, maybe not jumping on the Bordeaux pre-sales, but there is a steady trend that wine consumption is on the rise and will continue. Slow growth is growth, nonetheless! "

And then her Neopolitan roots sprang forth:
2) "manc'un cazz' "

Now we're tawkin'.

An Italian restaurateur called up recently. His family was coming from Italy and he wanted some wine for the house. “Send over 5-6 cases of Chardonnay, Sonoma perhaps, and 4-5 cases of red, Maybe a Pinot Noir or a Cabernet, not too expensive, maybe from Napa or some other good California value.”

So, Italians visiting the US to spend their Euros, want to drink local (or at least, California), not Soave or Pallagrello. No help from the tourists.

The sommelier from the Ritz told me about a Strawberry wine from New York, Baldwin Vineyards. We were judging wines and had just tasted a red dessert wine that had a definite chocolate character. Without a doubt. Strange, but in a weirdly wonderful way. “I know I’ll burn in hell for liking this wine,” I thought aloud. And why would that be? Even things I taste surprise me, with the reactions I sometimes have.

It was 98°F today. The streets are melting. Break out the Geox, we’re gonna need them the next 4 months or so.







Lucy, we got some ‘splaining to do.


(And some selling, too)

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

The Domino's Effect

There I was staring at the screen when an ad for Tuscani Pastas tried to jam itself past my psycho-blockers.

“Hey, there isn’t really a word like Tuscani, is there? Is that like one of those Asian carmakers who misspell Sorrento as Sorento, Siena as Sienna, and now Tuscany as Tuscani?” I thought aloud in an empty room. It really got me after all these years, not only the misspelling. Where in Tuscany does one ever see pasta like that?

I really should have spent more time throwing the baseball as a kid with my Italian neighbor in Palm Springs. You know, the “wine lover” who claimed he was a writer for The Twilight Zone? At least I knew we were telling tall tales when he threw the ball back and forth, waiting for my dad to get back from one of his Big Deal business trips to L.A.

This has been going on for generations and will continue to do so. Marketers will find an easy way to get to their goal, trying to make a quick buck, only to lose it the next weekend on the horses.

$32 and whadda ya get? A cold duo of veggies and a lifeless crab

Last week I had a truly embarrassing meal in New Orleans, at K-Paul’s. When I entered the place, with clients and colleagues, I had this “What happened?” feeling. The kitchen was gone and the simple tables and home cooking feeling of the place was missing. No more $10.95 plates of blackened red fish, no more bottles of Jax, no more struggling chef sitting outside the restaurant asking people to come in for a taste of his cooking.

I’m not sure that’s where Italian wines are going, although some of them seem to have modernized their surroundings a bit, making them unrecognizable. But back to the food.

How can we expect, let alone mandate though a government agency, how Italians should make their wine, when we make such a disaster of their food in America? How many Italian spots are virtual Katrinas in the kitchen? I have seen my share, and not to make light of the ongoing tragedy in one of the great cities in the US, but America's Italian kitchens are in shambles.

We have these entertaining reality shows about cooking, but can’t find a decently cooked piece of fish in America. Yes that’s an exaggeration, but more often than not, I have to find it in someone’s home, not a restaurant. Not complaining, the wine list is better and so’s the service. But, holy moley, in Italy you can still find great food, in home and hotel alike.

Some producer friends in Montalcino huddle, awaiting the American backlash. I ask, in a country that thinks overcooked Fusili in a creamy casserole or overstuffed pizza delivered in a cardboard box (that occasionally tastes better then the actual pizza) is the real deal, what are you worried about?

Oh yes, the g-o-v-e-r-n-m-e-n-t. That is something to fret about, the way things are going in the last days of the current configuration.

Let’s say we get through this contrived calamity in Tuscany. Everybody marches in lock-step with their Brunello, all-Sangiovese, all-the-time. Perfect world of wine, finally. Soldera can die a happy man, going to his grave knowing he saved the world from blemished Brunello. Might even get a statue in the square.

But when the real deal makes its way to the American shores, will that, or any wine recognize Tuscani Pasta and shout with glee, after making the long boat trip that our Italian ancestors endured? Will the Faithful and True Brunello look upon a cheese stuffed crust pizza and say “Eureka, what have I found?”

Taking a cue from K-Paul’s cold stuffed potato and frigid broccoli shuddering around a lifeless soft shell crab, Born-Again Brunello might wonder when the next one way flight to Italy will be taking off, grab his glass, and head for the nearest exit.

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