So you want to be a wine connoisseur? - Here are a dozen top online fee-based wine journals

Reading about wine from the pros can be a pricey proposition. If you are in the trade or a serious amateur/collector, here are a dozen online publication options (in English). If you subscribe to all of them they will cost you a little more than $1,000.00 a year, no paltry sum. But then again that’s less than the going price for a bottle of 2010 Chateau Margaux. And when you drink it, it’s gone.

Would I spend over $1,000.00 a year for all of these publications? I don’t have time to read them all, so I probably wouldn’t. But $1,000.00 a year is a pretty small price to pay for some of the best and brightest in the wine world. And if you’re new to the sport, it would be a pretty inexpensive. A season ski pass to Chamonix will set one back $1,500.00 or so.

Why pay when there is all this free information on the internet and the blogs? Indeed. I’d say the reason to do so would be to have recognized sources of information on some highly selected subjects (Champagne, Burgundy, natural wines, etc.).

The dirty dozen listed with yearly subscription fees, from the most expensive to the least:
(after the break)

The Battle for Prosecco

“I’m a little upset with you over that blog post you wrote about Prosecco.” That was my introduction to Primo Franco, an iconic producer in Valdobbiadene, with years of history and dedication to the elevation of the simple sparkling wine of the Veneto that has become a world phenomenon. His disarming daughter Silvia had brought me here to their home for my last day in Valdobbiadene. Not sure where this afternoon was going, I replied, “I agree with you, I am upset as well, and you know why. So it seems we are fighting the same fight.”

Primo is a force, a “big tree,” one of a handful of men and women in landscape of the modern Italian wine revolution who, when you meet them, you know they're playing for keeps. They’re not in it for ego gratification. Primo has an intellectual and artistic side that is equally disarming. We share a love for architecture, both fans of Frank Lloyd Wright. Primo had even been to Scottsdale to Taliesin West. “So you know also of Paolo Soleri?” I asked. It seems we will need to be taking a trip together in the future to visit Arcosanti; Primo hasn't been there.

It's that time of the year - The Wine Blog Awards have announced their nominations.

On the Wine Trail in Italy has been nominated for two categories:

Blog Post of the Year: The Rape of the Veneto
and
Best Single Subject Wine Blog: On The Wine Trail in Italy

If you are so inclined, go HERE and click the “VOTE” button: Voting will continue through Friday May 24th at 11:59pm (PST?) when the polls will close.

Grazie

La Battaglia di Grandine - Severe Weather in Valdobbiadene

Crazy weather day here in Italy in a Cartizze vineyard in the Veneto. I got caught in a hailstorm and torrential rain. Nothing like what the poor folks just got in Moore, Oklahoma. Sharing this video - the hailstorm cannons made for an eery situation, considering the many real battles that took place in this area in the 20th century.

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Valdobbiadene

“Have you ever been to ‘osteria senza oste’ in Valdobbiadene?” my friend Paolo asked me by email last month. I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. Not a clue. And I proceeded to forget about it, like we do for so many things that pass by our way. But when I arrived in the Valdobbiadene area (The land of Prosecco) Paulo planned an afternoon. “I am taking you to see people and places the tourists don’t know about.”

Paolo is young, happy, a former winemaker and now working half in Italy and half in the United States representing several wineries. One of them, Cá dei Zago, we met the young winemaker Christian Zanatta at Vinitaly last year. I promised the next time I was in the Valdobbiadene area that I’d be glad to stop by.

Under threatening skies, after several days of heavy rain, we first went to Cá dei Zago. The young winemaker has been fortunate in that his vision of Prosecco and Valdobbiadene corresponds more to how his grandfather saw the land. When I mentioned his name to an enologist at the Conegliano school of enology, he looked at me, startled but pleased, “Ah yes, Christian,” inferring with his words and body language that the young man has tapped into the source of greatness in this area.

Italy is “Open for Business”

Ever since we touched down, this recent trip on the wine trail in Italy has been non-stop tasting and traveling. From three days in Piedmont and the Langhe to a day of travel in which we spent in the Veneto and Valpolicella, to our current base near Udine, we have been hitting it pretty hard.

Tasting everything from Moscato to Arneis, Pelaverga to Barbaresco, Barolo to Amarone and now in Friuli, Pinot Grigio to Tocai. Today is the last day in Friuli before heading back to the Veneto and Valdobbiadene for the Vino in Villa event. It’s a bit of a blur, and the beat goes on.

The Silence of the Alambic – The Spirit of Romano Levi

We were walking around Neive, looking for a bite to eat. One of our colleagues, Michele, started talking to this forlorn looking fellow. As it turned out this young man, Fabrizio Sobrero, had recently separated from his wife. To make matters worse, that morning he took a walk by the house he had once shared with his wife and on the patio was another man smoking a cigarette. Fabrizio said to Michele, “I cannot even go into the vineyards; my back is bent over with the pain of loss.” Fabrizio works at the historic Levi distillery in town, and Michele asked him if we could see it. “Why not,” Fabrizio answered, “it would be much better to show you the place than stand here in the street being sad.” So, on a Sunday, Mother’s Day, Fabrizio opened up the distillery made famous by Romano Levi.

“I don’t read wine blogs anymore”

One of the takeaways from this week in New York was the admission by a surprising number of industry folk and journalists I met with who said they just don’t read wine blogs like they used to. This comes on the heels of the breaking news in California from none other than the Hosemaster himself, Ron Washam, who commented on The Connoisseur’s Wine Blog, “I spent a day in a tasting room where I work occasionally asking everyone who entered if they read any wine blogs. Of the 200 or so ordinary folks I asked, not a single one, NOT A SINGLE ONE, had read one. An outcome I expected, but was still humbled to learn.”

My research this week has been confined to industry folks, so excuse me if I offend anyone with a little of my “inside baseball” analysis. The wind-up is many folks just aren’t finding relevant information on wine blogs these days.

An Italian Giant Passes

Deuteronomy 34:1

Excuse me for this diversion- I’ve been in New York all week for meetings and importer tastings. This seems to be wine week in NYC. I’ve seen everyone; New York has turned into a little wine town of friends and colleagues. But my mind is thousands of miles away, in the desert. Someone who influenced my life, not necessarily in wine, but in life, passed away. And I’ve been thinking about the impact his life and work had on my life and our planet.

Franciacorta vs. the World

Maybe it was the way he raised the glass when he toasted the group at our gathering. Perhaps it was the conversation we had about my next trip to Italy and where I was going. Or maybe he had grown used to it, after all these years. He was one of the most powerful men in Italy and he had chosen, when building his empire, to put his beloved Franciacorta on the map. He had accomplished a lot in his life on this earth, but Franciacorta wasn’t quite yet a household name.

Franciacorta, ah Franciacorta. If you were to ask most Americans they wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was, let alone where it came from. Perhaps in Denmark or Singapore the educated masses there know better how to distinguish this sparkling wine in a bottle, but most of the world is still painfully ignorant.

There are reasons, for sure.

Franciacorta is like the tall gangly middle child, nestled between her older sibling Champagne and the cute youngest child, Prosecco. While the eldest has had more experience and is wiser to the ways of the world, and the baby is cute and cuddly, Franciacorta's beauty often goes unnoticed.

Three Days in Trento: Wine, Food and Relaxation without the Tourists

Friends of mine in Austin have a restaurant, called Trento. They asked me to set some of their friends up in the Italian town of Trento for a three day wine visit. That is the impetus for this post. I thought it would also be fun to share my thoughts on visiting wine country in the Trentino-Alto-Adige with the rest of the world. This area doesn’t get visited as much as other areas in Italy but it’s a great place to explore wine and scenery.

Three days – five wineries (there are many more, but this isn’t a death march) -based out of Trento the town.Trento – from Milan, Venice or Verona fairly easily accessed by car. Historical town, very clean and quiet. Some of the most expensive real estate in Italy (New York City-like prices). Lots of wealth. It makes a good base to get to wineries and come back to for relaxing and dining/drinking wine.

Italia, Quo Vadis?

Post #1,000

This past trip to Italy, I had the chance to wander the streets of Milan with a camera. I’d been hitting it hard at Vinitaly and on the wine trail, but the country seeps with emotion. Ever since my first trip to Italy, I have looked at it through the eyes of a photo-journalist. And this time what did I see?

Something I saw, in Trento as well as in Milan, and also in the countryside, was a growing anger among the youth of Italy. I’ve seen it for some time in America, but Italy was always a little more restrained, more measured in that all-out, let’s-take-it-down kind of nihilistic attitude. With 38% unemployment among the youth of Italy, that restraint could be coming to an end.

Screaming Eagle for Breakfast

There once was a time when one hungered for knowledge of the great wines. If one couldn’t taste the old classics, one could always read about them in Michael Broadbent’s book, The Great Vintage Wine Book. Or one could work for a company specializing in the sale of those great old wines. I was lucky to work for one of those companies in the beginning of my career, and the wines that I was able to try were memorable, to say the least.

Now, with social media, though, it seems we can witness a barrage of historical wines being tasted. Everywhere you turn, someone is opening up a bottle of 1947 Cheval Blanc [“the ’47 showed! But I was torn – loved the ’45 (Mouton)"]. Or turn your twitter on and you find and endless barrage of young twits proclaiming their prodigious manhood while they slam a bottle of ’23 Krug, straight from the bottle. Everywhere you turn, there seems to be this need to flex and strut about their access to great wines.

But does having access to great wines make one a great wine taster? Or simply a taster of great wines?

Where was the Wine Advocate at Vinitaly?

I woke up this morning and didn’t know where I was or what day it was. I’ve been traveling a bit lately. Fortunately I was in West Texas and among friends. Which, considering my orientation, is no easy task. 

Something about Vinitaly has been bothering me. As much as this last Vinitaly was a blur, what with way too many obligatory meetings (and twice as many that I was unable to make), friends who I never got to see, and not enough time in the 15 minutes that was allotted to me. No, what is kind of bothering me was some of the missing press coverage. The Wine Spectator made a giant leap into the Italian pudding, they showed up. The Wine enthusiast folks were also there, although Monica Larner, their Italian reporter, reported that she was in France. Odd, huh?

Italy from a different perspective

Photos by Col. Chris Hadfield

Once I arrived back home from Italy and the Vinitaly show, I spent two days on my back in bed, exhausted from a most intense visit to Italy. It was a great trip, but too much crammed into it, so I paid the price. I spent the two days in bed mainly to get through the exhaustion time as soon as I could, as I had to get back on the road. This week I have been on an Italian blitz in Missouri and am just finishing it up so I can head back to Texas and go out to Abilene in West Texas for the Buffalo Gap Wine and Food Summit. In the meantime here are some random thoughts about Italy from notes I made over the past week or so.

Thoughts while watching a sheep being skinned in Tuscany

When we arrived to the place we would be staying after Vinitaly, we first stopped at the nearest neighbor’s house. They are shepherds from Sardegna who moved to this remote corner of Tuscany many years ago. I loitered around one of the feeding pens to look, listen and take in the aromas of sheep world. There were a few there who looked up from their feeding; they really are such wonderfully expressive creatures.

In the other room, Giovanni was calling to me. Crossing over a barrier, I eventually made it outside to where he was. I saw several cats that looked like they had dipped their heads in red paint. When I stepped outside I saw why.

Vinitaly XLVII round-up (w/news about #Vinitaly2014)

“One of the best Vinitaly in years” would probably be my way to say it. Along with all the hustle and confusion that this Italian wine fair comes with, there are also a lot of good things that come out of it.

Number one is that this is an amazing concentration of wine talent assembled all in one place. I daresay one would have to cast a wider net to find an event that has this amount of energy and hope, passion and quality.

For me, Vinitaly (#47) was also personally satisfying. My Italian peers have recognized the years that I have spent on the wine trail in Italy. I owe much of this focus to Stevie Kim in her non-linear and non-traditional way of looking at Italian wine in the world. Stevie, thank you and all your hard working staff (a special thanks to Susannah Gold for introducing me to Stevie and being my speech coach :) .

Aside from that presently I am deep in the Tuscan countryside and preparing to return home. Sunspot activity apparently has hindered internet and wireless transmissions, so I will post more when I get back.

Save the date: Vinitaly 2014 will be APRIL 6-9

Some pictures from the event (after the break) – more to come…

Vinitaly XLVII Notebook: Good times with good friends in 2013

Vinitaly, what can you say? Anything can happen.

While it is easy to make light of some things and zoom in on other things, what it all comes down to is one’s attitude. This evening we went to Montebello Vicentino for a group dinner of old and new friends. I encountered Dr. Science himself, Attilio Scienza and we chatted briefly about his work in Calabria. He has done amazing things down there with the Librandi in cataloguing in a living museum vineyard many of the ancient grapes of the region. A living legend resuscitated some very important patrimony for the history of wine and vines in Italy. How lucky to be living in these times with these people.

Trento Report: €3 Euro Muller-Thurgau, red wine with white fish (and green asparagus) and Summa XIII

A bad day in Italy can often be better than a good day in many other places. And a good day, well, let’s just say that’s off the charts. I haven’t been here long but the wine gods have been good to me.

I’m in Trento for Summa 13, a yearly wine event that Alois Lageder holds. While the Vini Veri and the Vin Natur folks are holding their Vinitaly-alternate events, up here in Alto Adige, Summa is the wine event I’d take Jerry Garcia to. It’s laid back, a little hippy-ish, good vibes, great food and no pressure. All this before I jump into the Vinitaly fair on Sunday.

Vinitaly XLVII - The Super Bowl of Italian Wine

Flashback: Vinitaly 14 - ICE president Luigi Deserti
welcomes Burton Anderson, John Mariani and Lou Iacucci

This’ll be quick, as it is late and I’m still packing for Vinitaly – I’ve been going to the Big Show for many years now. It all seems like yesterday. And some of the giants then are just memories now. That’s the way it is, isn’t it?

I’ll be there this year again, with a load of customers and colleagues and friends and a few surprises along the way. Bear with us, internet connections aren’t always so easy to get.

If you haven’t read it yet and you are coming to Vinitaly this year, print yourself a copy of this post:
First-Timer's Guide to finding the best bathrooms at Vinitaly along with a copy of the map I modified to show you where the best rest stops are – this post has generated massive traffic and it’s my way of honoring George Costanza, who had a fixation on the WC’s of NYC.

Quintarelli's New Importer in the US is Great News for Italian Wine Lovers

No, this is not an April Fool’s joke. This is the real deal. Busily preparing myself for Vinitaly, which starts this Sunday (Saturday for me, but that’s a whole ‘nother announcement) my inbox had this important news from the folks at Kermit Lynch. Quintarelli has found a new home! And that is great news on a number of level, which I won’t go into here.

Please read the following note from the new importer and let’s all raise a glass to the memory of Giuseppe Quintarelli with fond wishes for his family to have even more success in America. Truly great news and a great day for Italian wine lovers. The announcement below:

Dear Clients,

It is our pleasure and privilege to announce one of our most exciting collaborations since Kermit founded his company in 1972.

We are dedicating this brochure to the late, great Maestro del Veneto, Giuseppe Quintarelli. We have been honored by his family’s confidence in entrusting us with the importation and distribution of their wines in the United States. It is exciting to report that this formidable estate is in capable hands for the future, despite the tragic loss (in January of last year) of its spiritual leader for the past half century. All of the tradition, love, heart, and soul of crafting one of the world’s finest wines continue with the Quintarelli family. Giuseppe’s wife Franca, his daughter Fiorenza, his son-in-law Giampaolo, and his grandsons Francesco and Lorenzo are all keeping a close watch over the family’s legacy.

It is impossible to speak about Quintarelli without superlatives. The name itself stands for so much: the family, the wines, a style, a tradition, a way of doing things. After all the time, effort, patience, and care that go into the making of a bottle of Quintarelli, it truly does mean so much more than wine.

Nothing is ever hurried at Quintarelli. The wines take their time and are given the time they need. In the still, quiet calm of the family cellars on a hillside above the town of Negrar, along the winding via del Cerè, deep in the Valpolicella zone, the wine from the fruit of these hillsides ages patiently and gracefully in large casks until it is ready to meet the world. Every release is a masterpiece, a testament to time, tradition, skill, and passion, the creation of a master artisan. As you will see, virtually every wine released this year is at least ten years old already. You can’t really compare these wines to any other in the region, or anywhere else in the world. They are in a class all their own.

Many of you are, of course, very familiar with these wines. For those of you who are not, we hope that you will all have the opportunity to taste and experience at least one bottle in your lifetime. 

Sincerely,

Dixon Brooke

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Soldera revokes his irrevocable resignation, Parker drops his lawsuit against Galloni and the Hosemaster has an apoplectic accident

Wow – what a week it's been in the wine world!

I have to say, I never saw any of these coming – this has been a watershed week in the world of wine for resolution and retroverse reconciliation and inarticulate anomalies. Let’s dig in.

For the Love of Barbera

This week on a Twitter conference, #SommChat, one of the guest speakers, John Ragan recommended wines for Spring. Barbera was one of them. One of the listeners tweeted, “Barbera is new to me. What is it? Is it sweet? Fruity? Dry? EXPENSIVE?”

When I first read it, I thought to myself, what? This person doesn’t know Barbera? Where have they been? I was in wine snob mode.

Then I thought to myself, “Here we are a bunch of wine professionals, sommeliers, etc., doing our wine speak, and this person who doesn’t know simply asked the question.”

Of course, the group sent her ideas, suggestions, told her a little about what Barbera is supposed to be. They were very supportive.

But it really got me to thinking about some Italian wine varietals and how underexposed they are to a large part of the wine drinking public. And that’s a darn shame, because there so many, sometimes too many, to choose from.

Soldera to Parker to Galloni: Comets, Meteors and other Eclipses of 2013

"Ruthlessly pricking our gonfalon bubble"

If I have learned one thing on Planet Earth it is that every one, all 7 billion of us, consider ourselves the center of the universe. Because of that we go about our business like the others around us just don’t impact our life all that much. Until something runs into us.

This past week, in the rarified atmosphere of Planet Wine, there were some forceful encounters, some of which might affect Italy. No, I’m not talking about the election of the new pope or drawn out drama of Italy without a government. I’m talking about the really important stuff. The Wine Advocate vs. Galloni and Gianfranco Soldera vs. the Brunello Consortium.

Let’s start with the most important one, at least for one of the 7 billion centers of the universe.

What does one bring to a pot luck dinner when the host is a '60s folk music icon?

Dinner with Joanie

Sitting at the bar of a tiny restaurant in the fashionable SoCo zone of Austin last night, two ladies were hugging the corner of the bar. The room was crowded and loud and people were talking in three languages. The younger of the two ladies, she was in her early 30’s, was pouring her heart out at 90 decibels. Bless her heart; she was looking to make sense of her life in this world. She was intelligent, handsome and very fraught with making a meaningful life. Haven’t we all been there?

40 years ago at about this time, I was living in the SF Bay area, finishing up my university studies. The Vietnam War was winding down. The economy having been propped up by military spending was a year away from crashing. College graduates would find it difficult to secure much in the way of meaningful work. The society had been ripped apart into two camps. Those two camps are still wrestling for the soul of the country. It was a mess. In the meantime a friend invited me to a pot luck dinner.

I was 21 and the ability to legally buy wine was mine. I was broke, but wine was cheap. One could always find a bottle of decent Chianti in California. I lived in a house and could have probably brought a dish, but my friend said to just come, there was someone there he wanted me to meet.

Four Days in Ohio – The Woman Who Sought Salvation in Sangiovese

When Natalie Oliveros was a young girl she thought she might become a nun. Her Calabrese grandmother might have liked that. But life has many turns in the road.

As she became a young woman she was drawn to ballet and the world of dance. She moved to New York City at an early age in pursuit of a dream.

Somewhere along the way her dream of dancing led to a dancing job, albeit not the one she probably dreamt of as a girl. And as she progressed in that realm, she found herself in front of a camera. Again, nothing would have prepared her or her family for the career she would have.

Four Days in Ohio – The Man Who Loves Women More Than Wine

Michele Scamacca could have easily been invented by Italo Svevo or Alberto Moravia. Of Sicilian extract, born in Apulia and raised in Friuli, he’s as comfortable with Pasolini as he is with Tornatore. And his story pans across all those worlds.

He was one of the Italians I traveled with this week in Ohio. He is the agent, the broker, the finder of wines. And his specialty is wine of the Veneto, just to shred the lettuce even finer. Michele reflects a complex portrait; a subtle neuroticism that reflects Woody Allen and a head that stands in for Il Duce, a sexual appetite that rivals Mastroianni and a dollop of Uncle Fester. Michele struggles with an existential problem: He loves wine but he loves women even more.

Four Days in Ohio – The Barone

"Don't eat calamari in Columbus"

Ohio in the winter can be a sad and dismal place. Grey skies, flat in many areas, littered with factories and mills that once helped to build America but which now rest in the autumn of their years. How can one make the life there a better experience? None better than to invite a carload of Italian winemakers to tour the countryside city to city with wine tasting showcases. It seemed an improbable feat, but the past four days, that is what I have experienced. Crammed into cars from Cleveland to Columbus to Cincinnati with our crew of Italians and their distributor salespeople and managers.

Cleveland, I think I have already mentioned. Columbus I haven’t. One note of caution: Be very careful when ordering shellfish in a land locked zone. And be even more careful if you desire Calamari. You never know what you might get. You might be better off with hot dogs, apparently. That said, we steered clear of squid and their alternatives, and stayed on a tight regimen of wine, work and laughter. The people on the trip I had never met; once again Italy produces not only great wine but great characters. And if not Italy all the time, the wine business can also create their own players who are attracted to the Italian experience like metal shavings to a magnet.

These past few days could fill at least two books with stories of people. For now I’d like to profile one of them.

Sunday is the New Monday, in Cleveland

What was I thinking? Catch a 9AM flight to Cleveland on the Sunday right when Daylight Savings starts? Yup, that’s what I did. Got up at 5AM (which was 4AM to my brain and body) and got myself (eventually) to the airport. Thought I’d have a window seat. Oops, that once in a blue moon upgrade to 1st class. Not bad, I can sleep on the plane. Oops, turbulence.

Plane lands. Good thing. Cab it to an afternoon Spring Winery Showcase with 55 Degrees Wine Company. That’s right, working it on a Sunday, along with some new Italian friends and in a beautiful room with some of the best Classic Rock I've heard in a long time ( The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame was just down the street).

This has been a long-ass day – so y’all get the slide show. Good news is we all love what we do, exposing more people to Italian wine. So have a good luck, see if you recognize anyone. I’ll be in Ohio this week doing this over and over again. Monday in Columbus. Tuesday in Cincinnati. Come see us. Good times.

Tuscany Report: Brancaia

Over the period of several days last week I had full-immersion of the wines from Brancaia. I have to admit I knew very little about the wines other than the estate was somewhere in Tuscany.

What a pleasant surprise it was for me to spend time with the wines and then the winemaker, tasting the wines and getting the story. My friend Carmen Castorina runs the communications in the US for the winery, as it is an agency brand for E&J Gallo Winery. I’ll probably lose those of you who think nothing good comes from the big guys. I’m used to that. But what happened to me was nothing short of an epiphany.

A White Tree, a Red Wall and a Bottle of Blu

There is a period between seasons when things invisible suddenly appear. In this case, for several years I pass over a bridge on my way from home to somewhere important. Usually work, but also the doctor, the bank, the car wash, the hospital or the market. In the summer the forest is green and covers the creek and all the trees. In winter, the trees are settling in for their sleep, but still they seem the same. Then all of a sudden, a lone white trunk appears, by the creek, brighter than anything around it.

The Perfect Italian

I was sitting at the bar of a restaurant, don’t remember where. It could have been Columbus, Ohio or St. Louis, Missouri. Or Yountville, California. I travel alone most of the time, so often I sit at the bar of a restaurant and order from the food menu. It’s kind of like work, in that I see what is going out to the folks, libations and wine, and get an idea of where I am at.

This time another solitary traveler sat nearby. She started up a conversation, found out I was in the wine business. When I told her my area of concentration was Italy, she perked up. “Oh, I love Italians, the wine, the countryside, the men; it's all so gorgeous.” She was younger than me; I don't think she was coming on to me. Or at least I wasn’t picking up that vibe. No, she was just talkative and I am a good listener. So I listened.

Rating the Italian Natural Winemakers’ Websites

California - 1970's

After a couple of days back in my natural medium of California, I’ve been giving some thought to the natural winemaking movement in Italy and just how natural their web presence seems. Over the years I have railed against things like Flash, pop-ups and the myriad of ways the Italians prevent the rest of the world from getting simple, clear, natural information. Now is a good time to look over many of them and see how they are doing in that area.

Growing up in California and entering independence and adulthood in the 1970’s marked some of my habits for life. For six years I was a vegetarian when it was difficult to be one. We found fresh eggs under our neighbor’s chickens and ate raw cheese from the local dairy in our town. Organic vegetables were the norm, not the exception, in our house. And as far as wine went, well in those days I had little money for things, so I’d usually go down to my local Trader Joe’s (one of the originals) back in the day when they had bins and bins of inexpensive wines from France, Italy and Spain. And often those wines were simple, unpopular types (Loire whites, Spanish Sherries, Italian reds from Umbria or Piemonte) but they seemed to fit in the context of the life we were living. These days when folks make a big deal out of natural styled wines, I have to admit I am a bit embarrassed for them. On both side. The haters, well, they could just look away and go back to their In-n-Out double-double animal style ways. And the defenders, while I admire their spunk, methinks they wail and flail about in a manner that distracts from the original attraction these wines have. I won’t judge any further, I have no stake in it. I just came from a place where doing things naturally was just a little more, let’s say, natural?

Tasting Tuscany: Today’s Challenge for Chianti

Wed, Feb 20
Earlier this week, I sat on a panel. We were judging at the Dallas Morning News Wine Competition. Day one was California; Mendocino Zinfandel, Napa Chardonnay and a smattering of miscellaneous wines.

Day two was all about Italy. Midway through the morning flights we went through several flights of Tuscan reds, Chianti, Chianti Classico, Toscana IGT, Maremma, Vino Nobile and the unmentionable wine I have given up for Lent.

But it was plain vanilla Chianti that really woke me up. In all likelihood these were inexpensive wines, many hovering around the $10 mark. Our group, all of them fully vetted for Italian wine, tasted them blind. What we tasted quite literally reset my ideas about Chianti and more importantly Chianti Classico.

And while these wines we evaluated in no way represent the total spectrum of possibilities for Sangiovese in Tuscany, there were more than enough wines tasted to begin to think that there might be something up in this little throwaway wine we have come to regard as Chianti.

The last dress in the closet

I’ve been living in this house of mine for longer than I have ever lived in any one place. We moved here when the family got a little bigger, when my gal Liz and I decided to move in together and get married. We lived together there for about 3 ½ years before the disease she had, M.S., took her last breath. Most of her earthly belongings, her furniture, her writings, her computer, her car, her clothes, eventually went elsewhere. Her ashes were gently laid in a spot in Assisi; I mourned her loss.

Over the years, the darkness in the tunnel became less or I just became adjusted to living in the tunnel. I kept my home dark, a man cave. Over the years I moved furniture around, changed the carpet, painted here, added there. It wasn’t my dream home, but it is home. For now. And for the last 15 ½ years.

A few months ago, I was consolidating things in a closet and saw her wedding dress. I never had the heart to part with it; who could want it? Like her diamond ring and her pearl ear rings – they were hers.

But the dress, enshrouded in a shiny red garment bag, there it was peeking out from a corner, telling me, “It’s time.”

Why Galloni Matters

This week, when Antonio Galloni announced the launch of his independent site, www.antoniogalloni.com, it was a surprise. Many folks thought he was the heir apparent to Robert Parker. Well, he might just be. But now he's the driver, not a passenger.

I have long admired Antonio’s calm presence. He doesn’t get washed over by waves of attention or scrutiny. He plies his trade, goes about his business, does the work. And while it may appear to be a glamorous career, anyone who travels extensively knows there is more to it than dining and drinking.

I wish him well. He did it with class. He didn’t come out with a TMZ video declaring all that he touches gets 95 points. He is the introvert’s critic. A thinking man, not just hedonistically driven by fame and fortune.

The Italian Beachcomber

Happy St.Thomas, St.Croix, St.John and St. Valentine's Day

Work took me this week to the U.S. Virgin Islands, St. Thomas, St. Croix and St. John. My assignment was to evaluate the condition of the wines in the warehouses for the family I work for. They recently invested in a company down there.

The first day we flew from our base on St. Thomas to St. Croix. Balmy weather in February, around 80 degrees F. The warehouses were temperature controlled.

What Brunello Can Learn From Prosecco: A Tale of Two Consortiums

2013 is starting out to be one of those years in which tumult is the equilibrium. I have participated in the melee in what some people have noted to be a somewhat unfiltered and unchained assault upon Italian wine institutions. Those would be the regional consortiums, the political and marketing bodies of groups of producers formed to advance their goals and success.

In my case I have targeted the consortiums of Brunello and Prosecco in separate posts. They both know how I feel about what is wrong. But things evolve, so let me tell you what I think about their different responses to my lobbing a couple of eggs at them. Let’s start with the one that made an omelet.

How Lambrusco Started in America - Tom Abruzzini's North Beach Stories

From the "alta cacca chronicles"



You find the oddest things on You Tube. Noodling around for my next post I came across this video of Tom Abruzzini talking from North Beach in San Francisco. I first met Tom on the needle-ridden steps of a crumbling four-star hotel in Genoa in 1989. I spent a week with him and learned all manner of things historical about Italian wine. “On the first day”, as the saying goes, Tom was there. If you don’t believe me, take a load off and bear through his story on how Lambrusco won America’s heart. Videographer and "alta cacca historian" Cush Dehkordy has produced a number of clips of Tom (who loves to talk and tell stories about the early days of the wine business.) Something we don’t have a lot of in this here old wine business, the oral tradition, captured.

You may not think every thing Tom says rings with your version of things (Tom is passionate and polarizing at the same time), but it is a record. I'd love to hear him talk about Lou Iacucci on video some time. That'd be entertaining!

Enjoy...

More videos here if you are interested:

Tom Abruzzini Wine Tales Part One
Tom Abruzzini Wine Tales Part Two
Tom Abruzzini Wine Tales Part Three
Tom Abruzzini Wine Tales Part Four

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

wine blog +  Italian wine blog + Italy W

Everything I know about wine I learned from Catholic school - Part II

It seems that some friends in the wine business who read the first post, “Everything I know about wine I learned from Catholic school” had ideas about their experience in Catholic school. Over a bottle of unoaked Verdicchio followed by swigs of Chartreuse, we brainstormed and came up with a second part.

Freshly starched habits – When Sister Bernadette or Sister Claire came into the room, perhaps it was the start of spring. The days were getting longer, the air was still cool, but by mid-day the temperature would rise. When one of the sisters would walk into the room with a newly starched habit, one could feel the difference. Fresh, clean, crisp, slightly citric, an edge to it, with a faint perfume of lilacs and lavender. Not unlike the white wines from Italy. Take a fresh Verdicchio (unoaked) fermented in concrete and driven all the way out to dry-ville. No butter, no apples, no milk, no heaving breathing. These were no Portuguese nuns; these were by the book, old-school proper nuns.

Water from the Same Well

I’m sitting in a full capacity plane, with the passenger in front of me as fully reclined as he can be. I have turned the air vent on full blast and pointed it at his balding grey head. Behind me the passenger is a regular Ricky Riccardo, bongo-bongoing his tray table to some long forgotten beat of youth. I am a magnet for bad behavior on an airplane. But the most offensive gesture is coming from the seat to my left. The woman next to me has ordered a glass of red wine. She gazes at the label as she pours every last drop, every molecule of it, into her high density plastic tumbler. The red wine is death-star purple in color. The putrid stench emanating from it reminds me of a cheap balsamic vinegar which has been laced with ascorbic acid and Welch’s grape consecrate. It makes me want to puke. She caresses the bottle, reads every word on the label, decodes the UPC number. And then goes back to her romance novel.

Has Italian Wine Been Hijacked By Angry White Men?

As I dig deeper into the psyche and soul of what makes Italian wine tick, I keep running into this wall. The more the wines of Italy evolve, the more it seems there are people who want to control the progress. Hey, there’s a lot at stake. First there is the money. And then there is the pride. But power, that’s the theme I keep bucking up against. It’s all really an illusion, because those who fight to keep the power have already lost the control. But still there are those players who look into their magic mirrors and see no blemish, no gray, no error. Our father who art invincible. And these are the players who are preventing Italian wine from becoming greater than it is.

Free the Sheep!

For the past several years I have taken a vacation in Canada. During these times I have found the laws up there pertaining to wine and alcohol distribution and sales to reflect a neo-prohibitionist angle. Taxation, different laws in different provinces, and a general non-uniform approach to the process of selling, distributing and enforcing the laws around wine, beer and spirits. It made me think the laws in the lower 48 states weren’t as bad as some of my friends like to make it out to be. But I discovered an even more archaic practice in the area of distribution and sales. There was this product I wanted to buy real badly.

The 1st Best Italian Wine Tasting of the Year

January is traditionally a time I go to New York. The holidays are over, the year has been put to bed and then it is time to meet with suppliers and see where we have been and where we are going. My first trip this year started with something I have wanted to do for years – taste the Italian wine portfolio of Neal Rosenthal with the man himself.

One of my colleagues deals directly with Neal and so we had a half day in New York. The plan was for Neal to meet us at the airport and head straight to his warehouse.

I got in first to La Guardia where Neal was waiting by the curb with his venerable old Volvo. He flashed his famous smile; we spoke a few words of Italian and headed to work.

Giving up Brunello for Lent

Just when you thought Montalcino was settled down, they go and show everyone that this is the dysfunctional wine center of the earth. From the scandals of the early 21st century up to the singular assault on the stocks of the Soldera winery, it seems that things are just not right in that town.

I’m not really surprised. Montalcino isn’t different from many little towns in Italy. There is a lot of fear of change and a lot of entropy, make it hubris, which keeps them and the wine they make from really making it to the top. Let’s face it, Brunello can be great, but not with a small-minded approach. I’m not talking a slick Madison Avenue approach to marketing, but this small town, old fashioned mentality that refuses to look further than their own nose, well, let me be clear: it makes it easier for me to say the first thing I am giving up for Lent this year will be Brunello.

Bringing Home a Young One

Se campu e non peru non vojgghiu u vidu jcchiu' festa du celu.

© 1967, Avco Embassy Pictures Corp

We all want it, don’t we? It seems that way, from all the pounding we get from television, movies, music, and society. That rush from the hunt, finding it, and taking it home to explore the mysteries of yet another gem. We’re an “I want what I want when I want it” world now. And we want it fresh and young and pretty.

Doesn’t matter if you are man or woman, it’s in our nature, trying to beat Heaven at its own game, making it count while we’re here. All those old ones, left to rot and smolder in their cellars, freezing, dark, no music, no joy, those days are over. Out with the old and in with the new. It’s January after all.

Something about the way Matt Kramer said it in his Drinking Out Loud column on the Wine Spectator, “Is It Worth It To Age Wines Anymore?” resonated. I go into my little walk-in closet and look at all the things I thought would be important to drink in 10-20-30 years and I often find myself walking out and going to another rack of newer wines; fresher, lighter, unencumbered by the dust of time. Oops.

Breaking the Code of Silence on Italian Wine

From the “Om mani padme om-erta” dept.

The single most asked question I get, on a regular basis, is still “How do I figure out Italian wines?” I have to deal with it in work, on this blog, in educational situations, in sales, and in almost any situation I get into when the subject of Italian wines is brought up among normal people. I say normal, because in the wine geek world, those folks are more interested in how many DOCG’s there are or the difference between Cannubi and Bussia. But that’s rarified air for folks who are just trying to unlock the key to understanding Italian wine for their purposes, those being immediate drinking pleasure. So this isn’t an academic exercise, although many folks in that arena struggle with this as well. Maybe that’s why the book, Italian Wine for Dummies, is the one many of us recommend to folks who are trying to simply sort it out.

But there has to be an even simpler answer. Not everyone is going to read a book. Too bad we can’t go the route that Mimmo Siclari chose, selling cassettes of Calabrian crime songs from the rear of his car. And as risky as that was, and it was, much more of a risk than I am attempting, the stakes are even higher with regards to cracking the code on Italian wine.

Being the Best "Me" You Will Ever Be – Again and Again and Again

There exists in all of us, a certain wiring that whatever stage we are at, we seem to think the decisions we make are the best we have ever and quite possibly will ever make. It happens at 4, at 14, at 34, at 54 and appears to be a mechanism that affects our decisions, our choices, our attitudes and the things we think, make, love, hate and aspire to. We seem to think we always the best me we will ever be. A recent article in the NY Times, Why You Won’t Be the Person You Expect to Be, examines past being and memory, and was the catalyst for this post.

In Italy, in the world of wine, there have been some decisions made that knowing now the why, makes for interesting conjecture.

Why did Soave become so popular in America? Why did the wine marketers seek to produce a lighter, smoother, softer, fruitier wine than what had been and is now being made again? Why was that wine so much more popular then, than the “real thing” is now? Who in Italy aspired to make a wine (and lots of money to go with it) that would provide for an almost irreversible outcome? Soave from the 1970’s is like the tattoo a young person got one drunken Saturday night and it just won’t go away.

New Year's Miracle - 4 Years Strong

Some things are just too wonderful for words. Friends and colleagues, Giulo Galli and his wife Stacey, celebrated the fourth birthday of their son Leo in Italy. Leo is now a healthy little boy and and is embracing a world that four years ago he was fighting to stay in. He entered it a little soon (see the archived post after the break) but he is a fighter. And it looks like he is all boy. I hope all you wished come true Leo. And keep an eye on your dad, keep him off the motocross tracks for awhile, OK?

Happy New Years & Auguri Tutti!