A Week in Italy - 7 Wine Finds from Vinitaly

from the "bringing Vinitaly to flyover country" dept.

Seven days in Italy. Seven wines. So it was my friend Paul diCarlo at Jimmy’s in Dallas asked me to put together a tasting for his little back room, his “circolo del vino” for 57 of his closest friends and clients. “Show me what we missed.” I thought about it. All the wines I sampled in Italy, how to reduce it down to seven? Not so easy. But when I was sitting outside my porch in the Langhe, looking out over a vineyard I got this idea. Why wines? Why not people? And then it got a little easier.

Vinitaly 2011 is a blur. I was only there three days, instead of the usual five. The UGG en primeurs in Bordeaux stole a day on the front side and the Summa 2 event in Trentino borrowed another day. In 2012 there will only be four days for Vinitaly and will start on a Sunday, March 25 and go through Wednesday March 28. Yes, those are the correct dates. It seems the earlier decision to run the show from April 1-4 got in the way of the UGC Bordeaux en primeurs and the WSWA show in Sin City in 2012.

Sifting Through the Fine Red Dust

So far, 2011 has become an extended road trip. Work related events have taken me on the road most of the year. Italy, New Orleans, New York, Dallas, Baton Rouge, Friuli, Austin, Aubrey, Berkeley, Napa, Veneto, Arkansas, Paris, Bordeaux, the Langhe, Buffalo Gap, Texas. It just keeps getting better.

I know there are those out there who tire of the constant barking of the poodles, the bloggers, whether it be about wine or the next great meal one just had. For me too, sometimes, it does seem like one long tome in self aggrandizement. Remember, it is a (b)log. And it is voluntary reading. But from the traffic spikes, it seems someone out there likes these on-the-road rants.

Buffalo Gap Wine and Food Summit - Fried Chicken, Sabered Champagne and Jaques Pepin

From the "I wonder what the rich folks are eating?" dept.

Right off the plane from France and Italy I was whisked through a veritable Inferno on a scale only Dante could aptly describe. It seems there have been some hellacious wind and fire storms in West Texas and we drove through them to get to Abilene, where Tom and Lisa Perini host the Buffalo Gap Wine and Food Summit, now in their 7th year.

The Meaning of Hospitality

From the Bolognese, Branzino and Grignolino files

Tonight. My last night. Two weeks away from home. France. Italy. Everyday, somewhere to be. Wine to be tasted. Ten hour days. Driving. Weak eyes. Sore feet. And then finally the last hotel. Near the airport. So close.

One more meal. Near the hotel. 50 feet away. Why not? After a wonderful day in Barolo, with Anna and Emanuela and nine wonderful wines going back to 1990. Dolcetto. Cortese. Barbera. Nebbiolo. Moscato. Great chef. Amazing lunch. Wonderful company.

And then the drive to the last hotel room. And the last meal.

Castiglione Falletto: What a difference 27 years makes

Luca Currado is very animated about this land. And with good cause. From a family heritage dating back before the unification of Italy, Luca's family was really out in front of the evolution of modern day Barolo. That's not to say modern Barolo, though. In fact, this second time around, the wines have steered forward in a timeless manner.

The last (and first) time I was here, in 1984, Luca's father, Alfredo, was at the helm. And it was heady times. All of Castiglione Falletto was this vibrating bee hive. Cavalotto, Scavino, any number of people I visited in those days, there was building and barriques. Rotating fermenters, technology gone wild, modernity in full swing.

Happily, my inner Rip Van Winkle, upon awakening and returning, has found that this land has found a few stewards to take the course back due North and maintain the ascendancy of these great wines and terroir.

Room With a View and the Best Pizzeria Wine List on Earth

from the Nebbiolo in Neive chronicles...

Finally, I can get into the vineyards! After nine straight days of tasting, usually from 9:00AM until 6:00PM, followed by lengthy dinners and a long drive back to a room, I am in the Langa. Two quick days to make a few rounds, visit some friends. I am staying with a long-time friend and man, if that isn't the sweetest view outside a window I don't know what is.

After visiting Lageder and the Summa alternate conference, where I tasted Giacosa, deGresy (in anticipation of today) and a whole range of Lageder, Marco Felluga, some amazing Rieslings and some wacky Austrian wines, I am calibrated. A four hour drive got me into Valdivilla just in time to catch the magic bus to Neive to have, what else, pizza and Nebbiolo in Neive.

"The Hottest Vinitaly in 40 Years"

A bit of a mixed bag regarding Vinitaly 2011. First off, there are a lot of amazing people here (see pictures after the post). Some of them I got to talk with and taste their wines. There never is enough time. Seems like next year there will be even less.

For those who care to know, Vinitaly 2012 will be held in Verona, again, but this time the wine fair will start on Sunday April 1 and go through Wednesday April 4. (Thank you, Luca Zaia). The thinking was that it needed to be open more during business days so that the restaurant owners could come on their off days. It means one less day of the fair.

However in 2012 Easter falls on that following Sunday, April 8. So it will be Holy Week in Italy. As well it will be the week of the en primeurs 2012 tastings in Bordeaux. Which makes it impossible for journalists and folks who try to cover both events.

Margaritas and Montecristos in the Medoc with Monsieur Lapin

Totally on the wine trail, albeit a ways from Italy. It has been three days non stop in Bordeaux with the 2010 en primeurs. And what a packed three days on the Left Bank in the Medoc it has been. From Lafite to Latour, Margaux, Mouton and many more, tasting the new vintage and assessing the pageant that emanates from one of the centers of the wine world.

Natty Wine and Nasty Cops: April in Paris

A short one day layover in Paris en route to Bordeaux for the annual En Primeurs pageant. In this case one day is enough. But more about that later.

After a very bumpy ride across the Atlantic, we finally arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport, CDG. I had a short text from a couple of buddies, Master Sommeliers Drew Hendricks and James Tidwell, both from Texas. So I hauled my stuff over to their terminal for a little coffee clatch. Drew and James were on their way to Lebanon, ostensibly to spend time with the Musar bunch. We made short work of it in the time it took to drink two espressos and a tea. And then it was time for us to go our separate ways.

About 10 minutes after I left them, I felt a lightness in my bags. Before I got on the train into Paris I checked for my coat. It had gone missing. I thought I had probably left it in the cafe when I had reached in a pack to get a camera for the photo of James and Drew. So I sprinted back to see if it were still there. You've heard stories of the city and how people don't care (more about that later). In this case I was in luck, my warm and needed coat was right where I left it. On to Paris.

Farewell, Marco

Vinu vecchiu ed ogghiu novu.

I never knew Marco DeBartoli. I loved his wines. In 2005 I visited his winery. But it was in 2001 on Pantelleria that I came across the magical place, Bukkuram, not far from where I was staying. And that was my introduction to DeBartoli and his wines.

He wasn’t but a few years older than me, but it seemed his time here on earth was done. I really felt his wines. Truth be told, I tried to sell them here in Texas and was unsuccessful. Not for any reason that the wines were lacking. But they are wines for a particular kind of person. Having Sicilian blood coursing through my veins, I fully understood. I drank more of them than I sold. They were liquid lust.

If you cant stand the the heat

More pix from a fabulous (and needed) dinner last night at Stephan Pyles. Yesterday was a challenging day; let’s just leave it at that. So when I was invited to sup @ Stephan Pyles, and a wine dinner that I didn’t have to talk at, I jumped! Hudson Ranch and Vineyards – Carneros, California – I knew nothing about them – they brought their own pork, which owner Lee Hudson had butchered a few days before and schlepped to Texas via American Airlines. Having just been to Friuli and watched a couple of brother pigs receive a similar fate; I knew this was food we should eat with reverence and slowly. The wine was fab, the crowd was lively. We sat next to the accomplished cardiologist, Harold Urschel (and his lovely wife Betsy) who worked on Gov. John Connolly on that fateful day in Dallas in 1963. He had many things to say about that day – history passing right before our eyes and ears.

Anyway, I have tons to do. Monday Sharon Hage, Tuesday Stephan Pyles, wonder how I can top that? Stay tuned. American Airlines, do ya feel me?

Palmento dinner with Robert Camuto and Sharon Hage at Jimmy's in Dallas

...with a little Sicilian photo lagniappe for dessert at the end

Palmento author, Robert Camuto with chef Sharon Hage under the Sicilian trinacria

Short and sweet. Last night in Dallas at Jimmy’s in old east Dallas, there was a confluence, lets say a trinacria, of wine and food. And we were all the richer and happier for it. Robert Camuto was in town to talk about his new book on Sicily, Palmento. Sharon Hage was in town back for a spell from New York. And Paul Di Carlo and the Jimmy’s family were in ‘da house. And the place was filled with book lovers, Sicilian romantics, great wine great words and the food – out of this world!

Pictures – captions – self-guided tour – with a little lagniappe, the Alfonso “way-back machine” going back to 1971 and Sicily when it really was feral. If you live long enough all these things become historical. Anyway, talk amongst yourselves: eat drink, love, write - breathe.

A huge thanks to Michael Sutton for pressing for this event – without you Michael it wouldn’t have happened

Thanks to everyone: Robert, Sharon, Matt, Paul Mike, Mary, Rebecca, Jeff, Joe, Tom and anyone else I have nor mentioned. Oh, and sorry again to the gent that I dropped that bottle of Delila on.

Rummaging Around the Wine Trail

I’m obsessed with cameras. I keep looking for the one that will help me solve the little puzzles that are put before me. With a camera, I can capture a moment, 1/100th of a second, take it home and give it a real long look. I can take memories into custody, run my fingers past them, go over them one more time- the Christmas dinner 30 years ago, the wine tasting 30 days ago, the meal 30 minutes ago. All to myself. No explaining to the skeptics, the all-inclusive faithful ones, truth be damned. Inside-out turned within, to gaze upon, to savor, to be free from the master and the misanthrope. My own little world, even if it is just rummaging around other folks debris.

Why the camera? For the moments we never seem to remember. So many of us are hustling about for the next great wine, the best little hilltop village in Southern Italy, the prettiest gal at the dance, that those little details escape our gaze. We are looking for something. And in the ensuing hunt, we miss out on the stuff of life.

Italian Wine DOCG News - Now up to "60"

...the latest news from "The Other Side"

Carnac the Magnificent. by Victor McCay

There is not enough coffee or amaro to make sense of the Byzantine arrangement that the Italian government has devised to anoint the latest DOCG wines in Italy. Back rooms, mind reading, herding cats, I have tried all techniques, and I know this will be an incomplete task. Someone will find something under a rock, in a river, inside a plastic bag at the bottom of the ocean. If you do, send it along and we will check it out, find a way to make sense of an ordering that has pretty must lost any significance. But like fantasy baseball, it does keep me off the streets in the darkest hours. So I guess one could say this quest to discern all the known DOCG wines of Italy has saved my life. That said, your guess is as good as mine, or Carnac the Magnificent’s. The envelope please:

The Newly Anointed "10"

CAMPANIA

*DOCG Aglianico del Taburno

MARCHE

*DOCG Offida

VENETO

DOCG “Piave Malanotte” o “Malanotte del Piave”

DOCG "Lison", (a name derived from the historical DOC Lison-Pramaggiore)

DOCG “Colli Euganei Fior d’Arancio”

PIEDMONT

DOCG- Erbaluce di Caluso

DOCG - Ruché di Castagnole Monferrato

DOCG – Alta Langa

DOCG - Dolcetto Diano d'Alba

PUGLIA

DOCG - Primitivo di Manduria Dolce Naturale

Still waiting at the altar
· Montepulciano d' Abruzzo Casauria (or “Terre di Casauria”)
· Prosecco di Prosecco (political appointment for the town of Prosecco in Friuli)

So with ten (10) cats a herded, that would make the magic number, at this point in time and space a total of 59 (*with the proviso that the two in asterisks have not yet been published in the Gazzetta Ufficiale, so they are awaiting their "official" notification, which is somewhere down in the "administrative" queue) ...listing after the break

Pour Decisions

I have looked at a lot of wine lists lately, in regards to Italian places, but not exclusively. One wine director recently bragged to folks at the bar, ”I tried to find things no one would recognize”. Really? Is that what I, as an owner, would like a beverage director to do to my wine program? Find things no one would recognize? What am I missing here?

If the consultant, director, whatever we call the person who designs a wine program, is at the restaurant all the working hours, it shouldn’t be a problem. But as it was, in the case of the place where the consultant put together a list of “unrecognizables”, two out of three times I was there, said consultant wasn’t there. So what good was this program?

A good friend recently told me, over lunch, "If you ain’t selling, you aren't here for long.”

Yιαγιά's Afghan

Last Monday I was at my computer at work and a message from my sister Tina popped up from Facebook. It was breviloquent. 10 words. 42 characters. “Just to let you know that Nick's mother passed away.” The funeral was to be the next day.

I later found out from my mother that Nick’s mother, Arianthi, passed away on the previous Thursday, before the earthquake in Japan. I probably would have gone if I had found out earlier, but as often happens, it was not to be. Just like when my wife Liz passed away, my mom came out. I told all the rest of the family to stay home; we’d have a memorial service for Liz in California. But as often happens, it was also not to be.

My brother in law, Nick, his family is Greek. His mother, Arianthi, whom we all called Yia-Yia (Yιαγιά), was a wonderful person. As was her husband, Demetri. But first, the afghan.

Thissur Pooram and Italy at 150 years: Something Worth Celebrating

My dear friends at Querciavalle celebrated the 150 years of Italian unity over a classic plate of pasta that mamma made. I have watched this winery pass from generation to generation (three now) in my short time knowing and loving these people.

Valeria writes, "Per celebrare i 150 anni, la famiglia Losi ha pranzato con delle belle tagliatelle fatte in casa,basilico, ricotta e pomodorini e ha brindato con un buon Chianti Classico Querciavalle 2007."

Valeria Losi sent me these pictures via Facebook. To me this is one of the triumphs of unity, something I would like to see more in America. Beautiful, traditional food, with beautiful, traditional wine made by beautiful, traditional people.

Blitzing with Barbaresco

What goes with BBQ besides Babaresco? How about a little 1990 Ridge Montebello for starters?

You’ve gotta love a guy like Aldo Vacca, who gets off a plane straight from Italy, and heads right into a situation that requires him to be “on”. Not that being at my home on a Sunday is exactly something you have to shine your wing tips for, but nonetheless, there he was, at the front door with bottles of his 2005 single vineyard Barbarescos, ready to get after some Texas BBQ, classic Caesar salad and King Ranch chicken casserole.

The idea for the week was for Aldo to come into Texas and swing his way from Dallas through Austin (right smack dab in the middle of SXSW) and ending up in Houston. By now he is readying to go to Colorado, but an intense few days it has been for one of the hardiest working men in the wine business.

Now is the time for YES!

My Sardinian friend Francesco, Cecio, showed up early Saturday morning for our yearly pruning of the fig tree ritual. Cecio learned from the old people in Sardegna how to prune and my fig tree wouldn’t let anyone else but him do the job.

The first time he did it the tree looked forlorn and hopeless. But I remembered seeing similar trees in Italy and offered up hope and trust that he was doing the right thing. He proved to be one who learned his lessons well from the old souls on that very ancient island. The fig tree has given back ten fold in fruit, much to the joy of the local mockingbird population.

But our morning together is more than a simple pruning. It is a way for me to connect with something old and ancient that I didn’t grow up with. Francesco came here twenty or so years ago, following his older brother who had established a successful Italian restaurant in town. They have since parted ways, gone on to do their own thing. I am not even sure they talk to one another anymore. They are both big trees and not subject to being pruned by one another. That seems to be the way of islanders. Fiercely independent, sometimes stubborn, but never unsure of where they are going. Sometimes it is over a cliff, but when they land at the bottom, it seems they brush themselves off and clamber back up to the top. Survivors.

Italy: Without a Doubt

When it all gets to be a little too much, when the heat of the day goes from tepid to searing, when all this running around and shuffling and commotion becomes just so much noise and distraction, I pull in. I want my own little vision of Italy to wield its power over me. I don’t want to worry about whether or not I speak or understand the language well enough. I never will. I’ll never be an insider in the language of words department. That’s for other people with those talents.

No, the little universe of Italy that’s wrapped around my heart and mind is a place somewhere in the middle, with rolling hills and a nearby beach with salty water and the setting for the happiness that Italy represents to me. My Italy isn’t perfect but it’s damn well near, and it works just fine for me.

Brunello Dunello:Words to Ponder in Times of Folly

Dune and Duner ~ further ruminations on the nature of Montalcino wine

He who controls the Spice controls the Brunello-verse!

He who can destroy a thing, can control a thing.
Frank Herbert

Authentic or Delicious: What’ll you have?

Two-steppin' between translation and interpretation

Maybe it’s that we are waiting for new releases. Maybe wine blogging is dead. I don’t read about how a wine tastes very often on line where it makes me want to go buy it and drink it. But then, I have plenty of wines that need to be tasted and hopefully, enjoyed.

Which leads me into what I really am thinking about. I think about it a lot. This whole genuine vs. innovative debate that appears on line and in person. I am really torn. I love, love, love real authentic Italian fare. I eat lots of it in Italy and 80-90% of it is also delicious.

The Call of the Wild

Recalling untamed dreams under a full moon

Italy, when are you going to let down your hair and get wild again?

How long has it been? What more of a signal do you need? The world is waiting on you; will you let it pass you by, one more time, again?

When I dream of Italy and the wine and the people and the politics, I just want to pack my bags and move to deep cover out West. I want to drift away from it all. I am talking of my dream of Italy now. Italy, what in the hell are you thinking? Get off your complacence and bring the wild back into your wines!

Adaptation

Was it a dream or did it really happen?

Outtakes from a storyboard imagining the direction a recent dinner might take in honor a member of a somewhat famous Italian winemaker family

The first course was a spinach salad, lightly dressed, and served family style. I am a shy person and know no one at the table save a few colleagues. Thankfully they were there. The winemaker was at another table. Really, really nice person.

Backing up first. I called the host and asked when the event would be over, as I wanted to stop by a friend’s restaurant and have a glass of wine with him. We talk food, he is on the cutting edge of Italian things in town, and I hadn’t seen him since December. The host said, wed be through about 9:30 tops. Great.

Pure and Simple

After two days of solid rain in the San Francisco bay area, I’m waiting. For the power to come back up. For the wireless to reappear. And for a better understanding of natural wines. Specifically, the Italian ones.

Before anyone thinks I’m about to take on the sacred cow, invoking the “N” word with unabashed acceptance and reverence, turn away. While I am a devotee of many natural things in life, I know things aren’t always what they seem. In essence, the words I heard uttered by one of the Renaissance men of the 20th century, Bucky Fuller, who told me to my face, “Anything that nature lets you do is natural.”

So, given a wide berth, I’ll dig in.

It started on the drive over the Bay Bridge from Berkeley to the City, on my way to Biondiviono to see a friend who brought in some winemakers for the Gambero Rosso tasting earlier in the week. A small reception for the winemakers and their wines in a convivial neighborhood setting in only the way one finds in San Francisco and other cities who have devoted their urban spaces to a accommodate the human scale. With dogs. My kind of place. The pump is primed.

Deep Dishin' and Dolcetto in da 'burbs- Ain't Life Sweet?

Just a quickie, ‘cause we’re on the run, with the family and hanging out in the East Bay. Last night we opted for Deep Dish Pizza and Dolcetto. With a Trader Joe’s a block away and a downpour, I headed into one of my old haunts. Wow, has TJ’s changed since I first went into the place back in the '70's. Lots of private labels and a generally dismal wine selection. Thank God Ceri @ Biondivino left us with a killer bottle of Rosso from Montalcino.

But there was a little bottle of Dolcetto begging me to take it home. Ok, not great, but @ 6.99, not bad either. Better than the mystery bastardo Nerello the wine guy was trying to sell me on. “These use indigenous grapes that we can’t put on the label” Yeah, right. A quick glance on the back label told me the importer ( whom we call the "wine criminals" back home, because nobody can import an Amarone to sell in the US for $17, unless it ain’t the real deal).

Elegia di Nera

I pulled out the bottle of 2000. Around this time it was being born, right about that time we were watching her last sunrise, she was breathing her last breaths. The appassimento was only ten years old, I shouldn’t have opened it. It was too soon. But things happen.

What can one say about the last ten years that this wine cannot? In ten years I have lived everyday without her, thinking about her, losing her everyday I wake up. She is now younger than me, than all of us. She doesn’t age, unlike this wine. But like this wine, neither had the time to grow old, really age. And so, once again, something is in front of me, dying.

The wine from the Veneto. I was just there. I should have gone down to Umbria and visited her site. I’ll go in the spring, when the lilies are covering her spot on the hill. Now, I am relegated to the gloomy skies of winter, and this bottle of wine and my memories of a love lost to the ages.

Colli Orientali del Friuli 2011: A Few of My Favorite Things

Fire and friendship on cold winter mornings

Farmers who work in their fields without stopping

Doors that are opened to reveal new mysteries

These are a few of my favorite things

The nail I hang my purpose on

Driving back to the airport in a fog. After a week with my compadres it’s time to go back home. Leave Italy. Again.

I have this thing I do when I am getting ready to leave Italy. I get nostalgic. Must be something I inherited from my immigrant grandfather. I look at the ledges of windows in a bathroom and imagine all the people who will come in and use this space when I am gone. Or looking down a walkway in a town, when on Saturday night, in the summer, people will walk, arm in arm, doing their little passegiata through their time on earth. I won’t be there, but Italy will be just fine.

A week in Friuli, one place, Colli Orientali, how valuable is that for one to get an idea of this Italianita? Who really knows? Traveling with folks who have such a command of the language, who confirm to me that I have no idea what the Italians are talking about, it has been like a forty year walk along the Italian landscape as a deaf man. I know nothing. Thank God I took my camera with me all those times.

So, what? Nothing. Just that I will continue to walk in my own way and see, if not hear, what it is that Italy is now.

Gli American wine bloggers conquer Italy? How about Italians try to conquer Italy first?

And so my fellow Italians,ask not what America can do for Italy; ask what Italy can do for Italy"

The flash on my camera is not working. It's stuck. So is Italy. As much as there is talk of wines being natural, we even go so far as to walk in the vineyards, pull up a stone and look under it, or tear out a piece of soil and see the live snails tearing up the matter, still there are elements in Italy that rip it out only to throw it up in the air. For what? To see where it will go? To see if it will fly?

Italy has their barking poodles too, Ron. Maybe the television shows are not as entertaining as American ones, Starsky and Hutch, CSI, Dexter. Maybe there is a need for blood. Or controversy.

Man cannot live by bread alone...

17 °F in Dallas and 17 °C here in Friuli

My neighborhood back home in Dallas today - Photo: Jessica Meyers/DMN

It is so hard to believe back home it is 17 °F in Dallas and yesterday in Friuli it was 17 °C ! They had ice, snow, sleet, and the coldest night of the past 15 years. Meanwhile, here we were walking around in shirts, even after the sun set.

All the better to get after it here with the COF 2011 crew. And also a little work with wineries I represent back home. Yesterday, an early morning meeting with my Friuli friend Stefano, who makes wine here, where we are staying at Il Roncal, and also the winery in Emilia, Campodelsole, which I represent in Texas. We had a short strategy meeting before setting off to taste 40 Schioppettino and Pignolo wines.

Colli Orientali del Friuli: Field Report

The field at Miani in Buttrio. I nearly tripped on the stones that covered the yard and the fields. The wines are immense, like the winemaker. The cellar, only 79 barrels (a little more than Chateau Le Pin), is colder than the outdoors. When garagiste Enzo Pontoni tells me the wines are more about the place (Buttrio) I think back almost a year when a winemaker took me out from his winery in Abruzzo and tasted the Montepulciano in the vineyard. Here, as well, I would like to do that. Out of the garage and back into the fields

Mother of winemaker Pontoni with Christian Patat of Ronco del Gnemiz chatting in Friulan

His mother is animated, very direct in her Friulian language and her naturalness with expressing herself simply and clearly. The wines too are very direct though not too simple. They are big wines; I am transported back 20+ years when Colli Orientali was asserting itself on the world stage. Now Colli Orientali is no longer a child, but a young person, full of energy and spunk. There are a few wine lovers in Dallas who would love these wines with their hearty Western fare.

Sunsets and Revelation in Friuli

Earlier in the week, back home in Texas, I was lying in bed late at night. The wind was howling. A huge winter storm was bearing down over my roof. Snow, ice, winds, tornado sirens going off, alarms. Another winter surge, another whiteout. And so my mind raced, thinking about Friuli.

I don’t really know that much about the area. It isn’t exactly in the center of things. And for me, it isn’t one of my go-to regions. Alto-Adige has more draw in my business life, as does the Veneto. In fact, as I think more about it, I have spent an inordinate amount of time talking about wines from Friuli without the requisite sales volume. That’s a real shame, because these are good wines. But there are problems. And after tasting through a series of wines from Friuli last week at the Vino2011 events in New York, some of the same problems exist that I initially observed when I first got interested in these wines back in the early 1980’s.

Seeing as I am on my way with the COF2011 blog crew to Friuli, and specifically the Colli Orientali, I thought it would be illustrative to make some notes and see if the following week addresses concerns I have for these wines as they pertain to the American market.

Marea with the Maestro

That's right Marea - not Marfa - not yet

There ain’t too many people I would get out of a warm, dry taxi and go hunt down a shovel to clear a path for, in a snowfall, but Filippo De Belardino is one of them. And to do it, to make a way to one of the best meals I will have this year, let’s say it was worth it. Oh yeah! Man if I was a gambling man, after SD26 and Marea, I should just go home. First the disclaimer and then the details.

I know some folks just don’t like reading these kinds of posts. It could come off like a nah-nah-nah-nah-nah kind of brag-fest. But I promise to interject love and life and good times about friends and the most important thing in the wine business – the relationships. If I remember. Or I might just brag.

It’s hard not to love a guy like Filippo. Even when I get mad at him (rarely) I still love the cat. He is warm and generous and he gives me room to be myself. I think of him as a brother-in-arms. Thankfully, not a brother-in-law.

My Dinner with Carmen: The Sequel

People love stories. And I’m no exception. I adore a good story, especially from a master storyteller, like my pal Carmen Castorina. I love his energy, his sense of wonder in things, his early adopter mentality. In fact Carmen is one of the few people I can talk to about things as diverse as politics, wine, photography, technology and talk and talk for hours. We don’t argue, we talk. And talk. And I love to listen. Who can resist when the stories being told are so damn entertaining?

So when we met again for the second year in New York for Vino2011 I knew we were going to have dinner together. Anyone who read the entry from last year, My Dinner with Carmen, might already know a little about the guy. But this year, we aimed to blow it out. And blow 2010 away. And we did.

The Great Whiteoutpocalypse of 2011

Despite the foul weather (after all, it is January and winter!) this week in NY has been another great week of networking and celebrating all things Italian. The Italian Trade Commission took it “over the top” this week, with a stellar lineup of seminars and superstars to present. Their web site is "fully socialized” and the young (and young at heart) who ran that part of the event really get social media and all the new stuff that very few people get. But like breathing or blood pumping, it comes pretty naturally for them and for all the early adopters of all ages. Great wines more than make up for foul weather, non e’ vero?

How to sell your wine to America

This week in New York during the Italian Trade Commission event, Vino 2011, there will be many folks, from Italy and the USA, converging for several days of intensive Italian wine learning, tasting, and hopefully, selling. In the spirit of this event, this piece is posted in the hopes that I will be able to send folks to a place to answer the question, “How do I get into the American market?”

I keep getting emails from Italian wineries and their agents who seem to think that just having good wine is enough. Once again, I am going to lay out the roadmap for them with how I think they should approach selling wine in America. In this post, in no way am I attempting to disrespect anyone in Italy. Actually I am attempting to give you a million dollars’ worth of advice from one who deals with this on a daily basis and has done so for many years. The main fault with this advice is that is it unsolicited and it is free. And as everyone knows, volunteered advice at no cost carried with it is of no value. But I am an idealist and, if for no other reason, I can direct the hundreds of people who knock on my door (or blast me with email) if the conversation should go beyond the delete button.

You have a beautiful wine. It has hundreds of years of tradition. It embodies innovation. It belongs to a wealthy or powerfully connected family in Italy that has influence in its society. In other words, it is a bulletproof formula for success. Right?

3 Days, 2 Towns and a "Biblical Commute"

On and on and on and on and on the Italian trail again - Photo by Teresa Rafidi

My barking poodle buddy, Ron, likes to lampoon my blog name. I know it’s all in good spirit. If I didn’t feel that way I would have called my cousin Calogero in Sacramento to pay old Hostradamus a visit. But fortunately, for all of us, we didn’t have to go there.

No instead, I headed back onto the road this week, this time to Arkansas. I’ve been working my way up to New York and Friuli with forays into New Orleans and Little Rock, La Place and Fayetteville. This week was a great week, but cold, and snowy, and lots and lots of ice on the wine trail. That part wasn’t so fun.

Three Glasses

"Spill the wine ~ take that pearl"

The holidays have barely ended. It was a long work up from August until Dec 37th. And then back onto the road. This was the first week of many more to come, to work on growing the Italian wine business so many more folks may sleep well at night knowing there are those of us who are working long hours to keep the world safe for Italian wine. No matter how the Italians will manage to change direction in the next year or so.

Right now the Euro is relatively stable. People are coming out and eating and drinking and spending a little more, even in economically depressed areas. This past week I spent time in and around New Orleans. The smell of oil from the spill has gone, but the sting of the event lingers. People in this region are hurt. And they are emotional. You can tell by driving on the streets, if you are a cipher to those emotions, which, for better or worse, I am. But the spirit of the folk in this region is indomitable. Lots of resilience here. And a joy for life, even as we are on this little orb hurtling as some unimaginable speed through space as we are scattered in another direction at another totally unbelievable speed, by the galaxy whose teat we suckle at. And this, with the faint hint that in 5 billion or so years all will be nothing, not a grain of sand, not a speck of pepper. Wow, how’s that for an upbeat intro with a side of nihilism?

Aristocrat Sauce, Ubiquitous Alfredo & Pleonastic Paradoxes

"First introduced" in America ~Photo by Teresa Rafidi

During the holidays, many of us take to the country, to visit grandfathers and other relatives. One of the odd things about living in America is that wherever you go you will usually find a Chinese, a Mexican and an Italian restaurant. And last weekend, we did indeed find an Eye-talian restaurant in the unlikeliest of places.

Krugerville (population 903) is a bedroom community of Aubrey, which is a suburb of Denton, which is a little north of Dallas. We were invited to a birthday party for lunch and made the 45 minute trek from town.

One of the best meals I had in Dallas in 2010

...wasn't Italian

At the end of the year, a small group of wine and food lovers gathered at one of the hottest scenes in town. Nosh? Close, but no cigar. La Fiorentina? I wouldn’t stake my bet on that guess. Lucia? Nice try, but that’s a half-baked guess.

No, this was an adventure into the French countryside, compete with oysters and Champagne, a duo of roasted ducks with winter root vegetables, a bevy of cheese and desserts and French wines, starting with Champagne. And while I love all the aforementioned restaurants that made their debut in 2010, this meal made a serious stab at five-star dining.

But they still lead me back...

...To the long and winding road.

In the real world, New Years day was almost a week ago. In the world of making numbers and getting everything taken care of, yesterday was the end of the year, December 37th.

This has been a long, long O-N-D. It started in August and finally ended, days into January. We are tired, but happy. Happy to see it over. But knowing it will start all over again. In fact I am packing my bags and will be on the move for the next few months.

Resilience

What is it about a person, or a wine, that makes them weather all kinds of adverse conditions? Why do some bounce back? Why do some fold? What makes one survive, while another, with possible lesser challenges, gives up, backs down, goes away?

I saw it yesterday with a friend. He is a little older than me, and his life hasn’t been the one people dream of. But it hasn’t been a total disaster either. He had a bad marriage, always working, away from the wife and kids. They didn’t know him as well as his clients. And one by one they drifted away from him. But it wasn’t an incurable situation.

I was steeped in incurable, ten years ago. My wife was days away from death, years had passed where she underwent all manner of disappointments. And then she was taken away. My life hasn’t been one people dream of either. Unless they were having a nightmare. But somehow, through that and other tests, here I am. Not bitter. Not spent. Not yet.