In Praise of the Wild

Last night a coyote was spotted in the neighborhood. Several e-mails were in my in box about it. One suggested we call animal patrol if we saw the creature. My first thought was, “They're coming back.” I was excited.

Years ago when I lived at the edge of the Angeles National Forest in Southern California, these guys were part of my daily life. I saw them when I took my dog and son for a walk in the hills; we’d hear them serenading at night. I like them. They represent nature’s ability to spring back, to return the shriek of civilization with their own enduring howl from the unbroken, the path of nature reclaiming her stake on the land.
Are there wines that have responded to that ideal of the wild? If you have ever had a wine from Pantelleria you might say so. Certain Primitivo wines from Puglia are clear on this, as is Gravner in the north near Gorizia.

Biodynamic is the new Pagan in Tuscany

I am thinking that in Tuscany the human touch could use a little more of that dance with the wild dog. Certainly Rampolla understands this, as do some of the producers in the southern Maremma. Umbria might be well on its way to a clearer understanding of this. Some of the red wines from Montefalco approach this, and certainly their older wines - the Orvieto antico back in the caves, laying, waiting like some long forgotten time capsules.

Amaro and grappa might very well be on that list. Averna is now a calmer version, but in its first days I could only imagine. But why, all I need do is get in to the way-back machine and remember the first time I put a Cynar to my lips. That was a trip back to the 9th century Sicily when the Khilafah reigned over the island.
And the power of fire of the magic al-ambic transformed the crushed remains of the grape into something raw and harsh, but transcendental, too. Susanna Gualco in Piemonte understood that in a way that made her a force of fire, a female acolyte Romano Levi would aspire to huddle over the cauldron with.

There is a lot to praise, but today I am looking for wines that answer that call of the wild and usher back in the unpredictable, the powerful, the un-manipulated. And I am keeping an eye out for my new neighbor.

The Oenological Love-Children of Dal Forno & Quintarelli

Cinzia & Claudio Viviani

I’m battling with this one. This is too close to me. Forces of destiny have stepped in here. What in hell’s name is going on?

It started as a challenge to myself: to produce, three times a week, some unique viewpoint on wine. Not something cribbed from the AP headlines on wine, or the WineBusiness.com news or the just-drinks.com headlines. We don’t need to regurgitate news from sources that have a higher readership. Can anyone “report” on resveratrol in any way from a pre-existing article that will shed more light? Please.

So, a slight break from Tuscany. A brief side trip to the Veneto, to the Valpolicella. Time for a little Amarone moment, getting on the Ripasso Love Boat.

During a trip to the Veneto in April of 2006, I went to see Romano Dal Forno, and Cinzia and her brother Claudio Viviani. Needless to say, the wines at Dal Forno were of another dimension. The care with which he takes with his babies is on a level that we wish all winemakers were at. Impeccable respect for nature and natural winemaking.

Earlier, at dinner, at Trattoria Caprini, with Claudio and his sister Cinzia, over a plate of risotto con Amarone, we talked of Dal Forno and his mentorship of some of the young winemakers in the Veneto, of which Claudio is one. Claudio is double-lucky in that he is neighbors with another master, Giuseppe Quintarelli. The Vivianis are the oenological love- children of Dal Forno and Quintarelli.

I am sure Claudio would cringe at this characterization. He’s a young man, Dal Forno is middle-aged, and Quintarelli is slightly older. So young Viviani is in the catbird seat. He’s picking the low hanging fruit right now, and there will be some definite challenges down the road.

The value of the dollar to the Euro is a headache for all of us. Imagine the position of a carmaker like Ferrari or Maserati, where the dollar has lost 30-40% of its strength in recent years.

The vineyard is pitched where no machine will go. Labor has to be imported from Eastern Europe. The Veneti are more provincial than they realize. They’re tribal. Yes they are efficient, yes they are meticulous, and yes they have embraced modernity. But they rival the Friulani or the Calabrese in their connection to a sometimes harsh environment. They’ve made peace with the elements, now they have to learn how to handle success. And the world market. And luxury marketing. All that. The price of prosperity on a hillside.

Last year on the way to Sonoma from San Francisco, I was in a car with Cinzia Viviani and two other colleagues, including her importer. Finishing up a Gambero Rosso tasting we had a free day and thought to take a drive up the wine trail in Sonoma and Napa. We never made it. The driver lost control of the car on the freeway, went off the road, aiming for what could only be described as the gates of hell, managed to pull the car back onto the road, a fully stocked freeway at that. Barely scraping by another car, and in a totally out-of-control waggle, managed to keep the machine from becoming airborne, only to jam the brand new car into a concrete wall or two. The four of us walked out of a destroyed car with a sore neck or two, a bloody knee here, a bloody nose there. We were either going to perish or walk away. We skated.

21 months later and regular visits to the chiropractor, I’m still a little bent. But on that road to Healdsburg that day, we cheated death, Cinzia and me and our two companions. We got a 2nd chance, or maybe a 4th or a 5th.

Because of that experience, yes, but also because of absolutely beautiful vineyards and a family I feel connected to in more ways than one, these Viviani wines speak to me of what Amarone is becoming on the stage of the world class wines. This has been a good year of tasting wines, starting with the 2005 Bordeaux tastings in France, Vinitaly and visits to Dal Forno, Gravner, Bisol. A lost weekend in Dublin and the cathedral of Guinness. Tuscany at harvest time, Montalcino, the Maremma, Panzano, Carmignano. Throw in Paris, New York and Hollywood, yes it’s been a good year for the wine-lover in this corner.

The wines: Not a plain vanilla one here. Campo Morar, a Valpolicella classico superiore that has its very own unique style of Ripasso, complex and intensely artisanal. The Amarone della Valpolicella. This is dark velvet fudge, a smooth stew of a red. John Roegnik, of the venerable Austin Wine Merchant, today asked me about the wine. I have difficulty telling John about wine. One, because he is knowledgeable. Two, because I have known him for so long that I cannot B.S. him. Three, because I am not very fast on my feet.

So now, to John and the three other people who read this, I will tell.

There are wines that are markers to me. La Chapelle is one of those. The Brunello of Fattoi is another. The Barolo of Giacomo Conterno, the Monfortino. Passito di Moscato di Pantelleria, Quinta Vesuvio, Chevalier Montrachet Les Demoisselles. The 1964 Louis Martini Cabernet. You get the idea.

The experience of tasting Viviani this year was a culmination, an affirmation, from what began with the first time I remember drinking an Amarone back in 1982. Maybe it was my California upbringing, but something about the wine has fascinated me in a way that takes it beyond solely an Italian wine. This is a wine made for The World. By once-upon-a-time-tribal people with cell phones and fast cars, and hillsides unable to take a tractor. It fascinates me. From stone walls, vines jut out and re-create themselves. This is fecundity unleashed. And the wines, surely the wines of Dal Forno, and yes the wines of Quintarelli. And Le Salette and Allegrini, and ones I am not putting on these lines. But for me, the Viviani wines talk to me of the future of Amarone. When I taste the Casa dei Bepi, I begin to see a time beyond my life when the fruit from this site will still be making wine, better wine, than in my lifetime. Hard to imagine, but nonetheless imaginable. Yes, for the big red lovers, it’s a powerful wine. And for lovers of elegance, it is. And if you are looking to cellar for 20 years, you may. And if you want style with substance, it’s all inside.

The truth is that with an open heart, a well-made wine from a healthy vineyard and a winemaker or a family, you don’t have to look far. God, I love these wines. So do they.

Viviani wines are imported in the US by Tricana and are generally available in New York, California, Texas, Florida and other regions.
Sam Levitas, Cinzia Viviani, Andrea Fassone, Claudio Viviani, Fosco Amoroso

Vinolin Tags: romano dal forno catbird seat love children resveratrol cinzia veneto love boat maserati amarone wine headlines cringe risotto giuseppe quintarelli forces of destiny low hanging fruit valpolicella

Musings from the Bench

High and dry in Zabriskie Point - Recently some commentors

have said to me, "Hey Mac, how about being a little more PC?"

At yesterday’s Brunello and Super Tuscan wine tasting (very casual, at a local store, for shoppers) I had the chance to talk to several folks shopping around for wine. The topic of the Wine Spectator #1 wine of the Year came up. Seems the 2001 Casanova di Neri Brunello Tenuta Nuova (the WS #1 pick) sold out rather quickly. (Online it is selling for up to $185.00 a bottle). But there was still some of the 2000 in the store, both the regular Tenuta Nuova (under $50.00) and the single vineyard Cerretalto (over $100.00) were still available. So a couple of folks started talking about their scores. Scores, scores, scores…

The WS #2 wine, 2003 Quilceda Creek Cabernet Sauvignon (retail $85.00 but now up to $285.00) really punctuated the relative value of a wine. Or the outer limits of the value of a wine.

Reuben Swartz had a posting about this recently on his Dollars & Sense: The Pricing Blog entitled, The Price of Wine—Not About the Wine . One of his quotes, “Wine valuation is a great example of people not really knowing what something is worth, or even why. In many cases, we do not buy a product, we buy an experience.”

He links a recent piece in The Economist, Fruity Little Numbers, regarding a way wine is valued.

An interesting piece here from CNBC about Wine Economics, if you have a QuickTime player (free download here)

Probably the driest thing about the wine industry can be found here, but if you like numbers, you might find it illuminating. Fasten your seatbelts, the American Association of Wine Economists can be an interesting perspective on the wine business (but hey, I like the TV program Numb3rs).

While I might be boring to the point of death on this dry subject ( reminding you my bench at the top overlooks Zabriskie Point in Death Valley, although it is in the preferred southwest direction), Sébastien Lecocqa and Michael Visserb have written a rather dry but interesting article about the subject, What Determines Wine Prices: Objective vs. Sensory Characteristics, published in the Journal of Wine Economics, Volume 1, Number 1, Spring 2006. Premise being, an controlled evaluation where “The hedonic technique is applied to wines. In the price equation we include objective characteristics appearing on the label, as well as sensory characteristics and a grade assigned by expert tasters.”

The Hypothesis

Within those pages, Jancis Robinson weighs in. “Another puzzle is the lack of correlation between price and pleasure. Perhaps it is not so surprising that a first-rate example of a little known wine can seem much more memorable than something more famous selling at ten times the price; part of the thrill is the excitement of discovery and the feeling of having beaten the system.” — Confessions of a Wine Lover, Penguin Books,1997.

Another and interesting anecdote, "Ernest Gallo, the patriarch of the family-owned E&J Gallo Winery in California (the largest winemaker in the world), recalls how, in the early stages of his career, he once sold wine in New York. He offered a buyer two glasses of the same red wine, the buyer drank the two glasses and asked for the prices of the ‘two’ wines. Upon hearing that the first wine cost 5 cents per bottle, and the second 10 cents, the buyer declared he wanted the 10 cents bottle."

The Solution - Simple, wasn't it?

In their concluding remarks (and I urge the interested one to read the whole abstract, it’s

not that boring) , “Our results indicate that characteristics that are directly revealed to the consumer upon inspection of the bottle and its label (ranking, vintage and appellation) explain the major part of price differences. Sensory variables do not appear to play an important role. Out of some fifteen sensory characteristics, only two or three have a significant impact in the hedonic price equation.”

Still there? Need an espresso? A break to pull the clothes out of the drier? Return a call from Ben Bernanke?

So what does it mean to us?

I was showing a young lad around the store, one who has some discretionary income, and is a lover of wine. And not just a number chaser. While I was talking to him, my internal “now I’ve got something to write about on the blog” monologue was really wondering why folks think there is so much difference between a Gaja 2000 Sori San Lorenzo for $300.00 and a Produttori del Barbaresco 2000 Paje’ for $50.00?

Orley Aschenfelter says, if the property brings in grapes that are worth $5,000.00 a ton, the value of the wine is 1/100th of that cost. That would mean $50.00. I dont believe Gaja's grapes are coming in at a cost of $66,000.00 per hectare. So there must another factor there, call it mystique, call it rarity, call it years of hard work in the vineyards and on the streets. It doesn't diminish the quality of the Paje' by any means. It could strengthen the appeal of it. A vineyard of barely 6 acres with wine that sells for $50.00. 1,600 bottles to the acre. You do the math, it's looking like a find. 6 bottles of Paje' for 1 of San Lorenzo?

Look sometimes, we think we’ve got a big bad machine and then a little school bus stops us dead in our tracks. It seems mainly to be a guy thing, this quest for testosterone in a bottle, like a Trophy Wife. Used to be Petrus, now it’s Screaming Eagle. Used to be a Cadillac, now it’s a Hummer. Now it’s a Trophy Wine. Above the $50.00 dollar price level, how many of us can really tell? I asked a Master Sommelier friend of mine this question. If anyone would know, wouldn’t he? Guess again. He said, "I'm a Master Sommelier, not a Super Sommelier."

I feel for the wine lover, especially the folks who want to put a few cases away for the future. And not just for their kid's college education. It could feel like trudging that heavy old boat up the river, towards some heart of darkness point of no return.

Not as much as the poor blokes who spend $20-30,000.00 a month on their obsession with cornering the market for all the Big Red Wines out there. I could give them the name of an orthopedic surgeon who went through that phase, dug a hole in his home, and proceeded to bury hundreds of thousands of dollars in it, only to find he had a cellar full of trophy wines that weren’t drinkable or, if they were to someone, not to him. Not anymore.

My long-drawn-out-point is, if as Reuben Swartz says, "you are really not buying a product but an experience", do you want a one night stand or do you want wine on your rack that you can live with?

Seth Godin said it best, today - “We sell feelings. We don't sell stuff.”

Saturday's Lagniappe ~ When in Rome ~ Olive Oil Sommelier Course & Tachis Seminar

Over at the Well Fed Network I have a few postings...might want to check them out. This is a well organized site with a collective pool of writers. Saturday's lagniappe before heading out to a Brunello and Super Tuscan tasting. Shopping? Nahhhh...

Master Class ~ Wine as Medicine

Olive Oil Sommelier Course ~ It’s the Real Thing

And if you are vegging out this weekend, here's 8 minutes that you'll never get back....next page

Go to Movie here

Vinolin Tags sommelier course collective pool olive oil lagniappe when in rome well fed brunello tuscan wine medicine shopping

Wine Marketing & Sex Appeal in Sicily ~ No Small Potatoes

What is happening in Sicily?

Every year for the last 6 or so years at Vinitaly, Sicily has been front-and-center in the advance of Italian wine. Wineries such as Planeta and Donnafugata have raised the bar of expectations, while other lesser known wineries, such as Arancio and Colosi have increased interest in easier to access styles of wine. More established wineries such as Tasca D’Almerita and Rapitala are re-inventing themselves. Sicily is like Mt. Etna, always in a state of change, often explosive in some of those changes.

At this moment, Etna is tossing and turning within. Sicily wants on the world wine stage, capable of production in quantities rivaling Australia, but wanting to be seen as serious.

Now we are seeing non-islanders coming with their ideas. And this is just a facet of the revolution that is going on in Sicilian wine production. But if 2 is a pattern and 3 is a trend, we’re on our way to the next trend in wine from Sicily. How about 4 ?

The two wines are Fourplay from Tuscan winery Dievole and Quattro from Veneto winery Voga. Both play on a sexy concept, with clever packaging to boot. Both capitalize on blended red wine, in each case 4 varietals. Fourplay uses traditional Sicilian grapes, Frappato Nero, Nerello Mascalese, Nerello Cappuccio and Nero d'Avola in equal parts, while Quattro utilizes Merlot, Cabernet, Shiraz and Pinot Noir. The two wines couldn’t be more different in their makeup but both are aiming for a similar audience. A youthful market? Can they do it? Who will succeed?

Smoke rings from Mt. Etna

It will be an interesting experiment to watch. Right now, it’s a fairly minor battle as the Sicilian market isn’t a dominating one, at least in the United States. But it is illustrating the willingness to experiment with both traditional and modern styles. In the next week or so we will try them together, but today I’m not really interested in the taste.

Sicily is a captivating developmental laboratory for the European wine community, not just for Italy. For historical reasons the Sicilians have had good relations and trade with the French wine industry. One of Emile Peynaud’s protégé’s, Raymond Chandou, once told me of his many friends in Palermo and the Sicilian wine community. And that is going back 20 or more years, at this writing. And while there is word of a wine glut in Europe, there is always hope that this cycle will swing back up. It has before, and when it does, will the Europeans, and the Italians, and Sicily, be poised to supply export markets with their fighting varietals?

I’m not saying Fourplay or Quattro will be the next Yellow Tail or 2 buck Chuck. That more likely will be for other companies, say Settesoli or Arancio. As for the idea of selling sexy bottles of wine, most often to women, the marketing folks might want to ask those women what they really want, instead of treating them like sex objects. Young women, speak up.

One last wish. Go to many of the wineries linked in this post and find yourself confronted with the frustrating confinement of the Flash player. Some time ago I commented on this and could only hope someday the web designers come back to a simpler way of presenting their ideas on the web. For God’s sake you can’t get a decent connection in much of Tuscany, let alone in Piazza Armerina.

I’m not really going any farther with this, just sensing something happening in Sicily below the surface. My own impression, Sicily has been my California in Italy. If only they could capture that energy, that Etna of the spirit that flows through the hearts and minds of the Sicilians. Then Australia would have something to worry about.

Satellite View of Etna ~ for more click here

The Tender Melancholy of Remembrance

Tulips and forget-me-nots, ancient bottles of Petite Sirah, soup made by Mom, broken hearts that may someday mend.

Ahhh, Wednesday in the garden of the mind, in the dark, with a cold front bearing down upon us. Winter is coming.

A few nights ago I had a dream about the "first love". For the duration of the dream I was innocent, the world was farther away from me, it didnt touch me so much. The heart was stronger, but lighter, and less supple than it is now. It was such a sweet, sweet moment. Did it ever exist?

What was your first-love from the world of wine? Was it Boones Farm or Bordeaux, Thunderbird or Muller-Thurgau? Blue Nun or Pio Cesare?

If I could find a wine as sweet as that first kiss, with the aroma of that perfume she wore. A little cherry, a warm sunflower blossom, delicate powder and the young skin whose chemistry made all of that into an indelible memory that I have yet to find in all these years, tasting and breathing in the bouquet of thousands of wines. Never yet.

To the young kids, sommeliers and career builders, master sommelier and master of wine hopefuls, those of you who might think getting that certificate will lead you, solely, to a life of fame and fortune.

Take a moment. Put away the PDA's and the Ipods. Go outside and take a walk around your block, wherever you are. Every 10 feet, close your eyes and open up your olfactories. Your ancient sense, the one only you have with only your unique set of memories.

Breathe deep, and hold.


And breathe out.

And open your eyes, and walk into your new world.

Every day.

Master that....

Dining As If Dreaming

Thursday night is a bit of a blur, seems more like a vague memory than something that recently happened. It feels like something has been dropped on my foot. Slight headache, but a few aspirin took care of that. I encountered some rare wines in the past few hours and days.

1959 Chateau Mouton Rothschild – The first time I had this wine, in 1985, with Michael Broadbent in Chicago, it was a memorable experience. This one was from a bottle with slightly lower than optimal fill level. The whole gang was there; tea, leather, tobacco, dust, old, distinguished, tired, and finally silence. The glass was empty.

1985 La Chapelle Hermitage – this wine seems like an old friend now. We met when we were both younger, more youthful, red faced and full of rage. Now we both are mellower. There’s some of this at home as well as on the island.

1928 D’Yquem. – What a difference 20 years makes. Much more for us mere humans than the wine. This first time I had this wine it was as old as I am now. I hope I fare as well.

There are more….but tasting notes are not what this dream is about

On to the Italian coast. An early departure, thank God the coffee was Italian in style. While cooler than on Corsica, a private landing strip between Pisa and the Maremma was a welcome sight. A month earlier, in waking moments, I had been in the southern Maremma near Grossetto. It reminded me of Santa Barbara in California. The area north was a little more scrub-like, fewer trees, more rangeland. Our last stop would be a hilltop estate.

The owner rarely lives in Italy, preferring to stay with his family in New York or Spain, away from the potential kidnappers and ransom masters. Security was tighter than La Guardia Airport on Sept 19, 2001. But you wouldn’t know it. You couldn’t see it if your eyes were open. But all was in place. I asked my friend why we didn’t just deliver this to their offices in New York. His comment, “These folks pay to have it where they want it, when they want it. It might not make sense to little folks like you and me, but they live in a different world.”

Money is no object, when it comes to getting sensitive material in a private manner. A fax doesn’t transmit in this world, this diary of a somnambulist. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and it will be all bright and painful and it will have gone away.

Friday 1:00 pm – The headache is returning. My right foot as if it is asleep. Maybe sitting in the back of the limo for this long, bumpy ride has caused it to flair up. Maybe not sleeping in the past few days. In any event, no one needs to envy me on this trip a cross between a Twilight Zone episode and an Ionesco play.

Finally, at the top of the hill, beyond a row of cypress and behind a cover of trees, we are led to the villa. We meet the final client, a man in his mid 40’s, with a few young men on the outside acting as cover and watchdogs, along with the watchdog. A lawyer, an elderly man, was also present. We have been eagerly awaited, the water was boiling and they were ready to have lunch. And they were waiting for us.
Over a plate of antipasti, little seagoing creatures, fresh and marinated, we sipped a glass of Vermentino from the region. A friend of the client, Marco Bacci, has an estate down the coast, Terre di Talamo. The Vermentino “Vento” was fresh and crisp. Not biodynamic, but nonetheless organic, it was as unsullied as the land we were on. Modernity was natural in this territory as there were no over layers of ritual demanded of the inhabitants, only a deference to position and place.

A pappardelle alla lepre (see recipe below) was then served with a young light red from the area, A Sangiovese and Cabernet blend. Almost resembling a rose’ wine or a Beaujolais, it was perfect with the pasta.

The main course (and this would be our only meal of the day, but one that would last for 5 hours) was a wonderful Bocconcini di Manzo Stufati al Morellino di Scansano. Fittingly we had it with Morellino di Scansano. Six of them. A 2004, 2000, 1990, 1985, 1982, 1976. They had a saying,” Old Morellino doesn’t die, it gets turned into sauce.”

The whole idea of dining as long as one sleeps is interesting, because it becomes a kind of sleep. The different courses are like different dreams, in fact they are. The moments between the courses, the conversation, the stories all weave into the dreamlike nature of these past few days. Very disembodying, but very wonderful.

Finally, one of the old guards was also a great pastry chef in his early days. A Sicilian, and trained with a knife in more ways than most of us could imagine. He was famous for his “capi duzzi di ricotta” , little fried pies filled with fresh ricotta. It went well with a Marsala Riserva Speciale 10 year from de Bartoli, the only exception to the drink local code. But Marsala, is a wine for honorable men with honorable intentions. Another code, this one unbreakable.

With that we disembarked back to the States, arriving Saturday, a little earlier than planned. But an elderly friend was in need of having his life’s belongings, a life of wine, packed up and stored away. But that’s another story for another time.


*IWG's note- As it is not my intention to deceive you, I must confess. In reality I have really been laid up with a broken toe. And no pain medicine. So I thought it would be a good diversion (for me) to write about another place and time, to get my mind off the pain and the hassle. The wines mentioned the last two postings have all actually been drunk somewhere in time, in the past, by me. I thought it would be a good exercise (seeing as I cannot actually step outside and take a run, my usual exercise) to weave some wines tasted with an imaginary trip. I know a few of you wrote, thinking I was either nuts or out of my mind. Only with the temporary agony of a physical infirmity. The wines were all tasted but the places were not visited. This time. Most of the pictures I did take. I hope I did not offend anyone by taking them on my imaginary journey with me. Then again if any of you had called you would have known my predicament and possibly come to my aid. But not to worry. I am on the mend. Slowly, but eventually.

The recipeSALSA ALLA LEPRE
½ Lepre
1 cipolla
1 carota
1 costola di sedano
3 bacche di ginepro
2 chiodi di garofano
2 foglie di alloro
1 spicchio di aglio
1 bicchiere di vino rosso
400 gr di pomodori pelati
sale pepe nero olio extra vergine di oliva

Lavare la lepre, tagliarla a pezzi e metterla "a far l' acqua" in un tegame a fuoco vivace per 3 minuti. Scolare, sciacquare con acqua. In un tegame a parte far rosolare con l' olio d' oliva la cipolla, il sedano, e la carota finemente tritati. Quando il soffritto avrà raggiunto una colorazione marrone, aggiungere lo spicchio d' aglio tritato, le bacche di ginepro ed i chiodi di garofano schiacciati. Subito dopo unire la lepre e farla amalgamare al soffritto cuocendo e mescolando per un minuto. Bagnare con vino rosso, far evaporare, aggiungere i pomodori pelati passati, le foglie di alloro, salare, pepare e far cuocere per un’ora abbondante a fuoco lento a tegame coperto. A cottura ultimata togliere la lepre dal tegame, disossarla su un tagliere e tritarla finemente. Mettere nuovamente la lepre nel tegame con la salsa.

PAPPARDELLE
3 uova
200 gr di farina di grano tenero
100 gr di farina di grano duro
olio extra vergine di oliva e sale

In una ciotola mescolare le farine e poi disporle a fontana sul tavolo. Al centro mettere le uova, l’ olio ed il sale. Far incorporare la farina lentamente, dopodiché lavorare energicamente finchè la pasta non risulti liscia ed elastica. Far riposare per 10 minuti. Tirare la pasta fine e tagliarla a strisce di 4 cm di larghezza. Lessare le pappardelle in abbondante acqua salata e condire con la salsa alla lepre.

The Busiest Time of the Year

* Up, Up, & Away...

A friend, who has an interesting profession, called on Tuesday night. "I have to personally courier some papers, contracts and such, to Paris, then to Corsica and finally, to Pisa. I have a private jet and extra space for one person. I have the jet until Monday. Wanna come?"

I have known for some time that this friend was at the disposal of some interesting propositions. He works in the entertainment field, brokering deals between studios and some big stars.

Dallas to Paris was a snap, there in time to deliver the papers to the first of his clients, a well to do gentleman who loves seafood and biodynamic wines. We were to dine with him.To go with the freshly caught fish, he opened an Aligoté Domaine d'Heilly Huberdeau to start. Eventually we got around to the L'Etoile Domaine de Montbourgeau of Jean Gros. The client is a gentleman-farmer and a producer, and we talked the night out about all manner of things, wine and film mainly.

My latest interest in byodynamic was further piqued. There was just enough time for a morning stop by another friends wine shop, to pick up some wine that had been ordered months ago and was waiting for one of us to pick it up. With a private plane, how could one resist?

We were going to Corsica, to Bonifacio, where his other client, an eclectic American actor, would meet us.

While Paris was chilling down, Corsica was experiencing one last brief moment of sun. Sun worshipers were gathering the last of the rays while his client crouched, characteristically, nearby.

Thanks to the satellite wireless connection of the client and his generosity in letting me post this. Bonifacio has an interesting history. Not unlike many of the places in southern Italy and France. I felt right at home here, in fact the French was mixed in with a little of the local dialect which reminds me of my Sardinian friends patois. Near the Semaphore of Pertusato we were invited to a dinner. Once again the Biodynamic world intersected our paths, this time with an array of wine from the island starting with the Patrimonio AOC of Sylvain Paoli of Farinole. It reminds me of a dry muscat I have had in Pantelleria, south of Sicily. Fresh, unctuous fruit, an almond and honey marmalade. Bone dry.

Thursday night was spent near Farinole in St-Florent, where his client has a villa. And a wonderful wine cellar. An interesting time so far. There'll be little or no sleeping on this journey. Already, in this short time, the *spirit* has been active.

* For all we know, this may only be a dream. (To be continued...)

Tags: wine shop, corsica, gentleman farmer, sun worshipers, paris, biodynamic, bonifacio, private jet, southern italy

An Essential Ingredient for the Holidays

Yes, Virginia, it's very important to pick out the perfect wine to go with the perfect turkey, or lobster, or hot dogs, whatever meal you will have with your family or your friends or yourself. There are plenty of places online, newspapers, TV, all telling you what to eat, what to drink, what to drink with what you eat, who to drink it with and how to find the time to do it all. Fine. When you have figured all of that out, consider the attached video and what it might mean to you when you gather.
Advisory: the following video is uncharacteristically schmaltzy of me. My long-time friend, Patty , would approve.
What to bring to the gathering


Gotta go catch a *plane* - will post as soon as I'm able