Palermo ~ The Persistence of Memory

It’s 4:30 in the morning and I’m awake. Done with sleep. My rattled skeleton is still trying to pull itself together. Coughing is painful at times. And that darn left leg is still swollen. But all I can think about is Palermo.

I’m not necessarily an urban lover. When I go to Italy I usually avoid cities. Yes, I still manage to get in and out of Rome and Milan when a flight calls for me to be there. But I can’t wait to get out into the country, with the vines and the wind and the silence. Palermo, that’s a different story.

Drinking My Way Through Sicily (and Rome)

Every day during this last trip to Sicily there were wines to be tasted. Fortunately most of the wines were tasted with food, although there were some official-like tastings as well. The following recaps some of the best wines I had while in Sicily and in Rome.

Eating My Way Through Sicily (and Rome)

Gioacchino Campanella ~ Buon “quarumaru”
- photo by Manuela Laiacona

This last trip, first through France and then Italy, was one of the most challenging journey’s I have ever had on the wine trail. The little mishap in France set me back more than I knew. Upon returning home, the docs shook their head in amazement that I would carry on through the trip to Sicily, not the easiest part of the world in terms of convenience. But I saw it another way. Many years ago when I got sick in Greece, I had only one thought, and that was to get to Italy as soon as possible and get healed, which I did. So I set my course for Sicily in hope of a healing journey.

Sicily 2013: Escaping the Hellish Roads to Nowhere

The drive from Etna to Chiaramonte Gulfi was one for the books. After saying goodbye to Salvo Foti and his family I headed out. He had recommended a restaurant in Catania to try for lunch if I had time. Reticent about going into another large Sicilian town with a car (still shaky from the Bordeaux mishap a week earlier and having survived Palermo by car) I made a note to see. First I would have to get off the mountain.

Sicily 2013: The Dark Side of the Island – Etna with Salvo Foti & Co.

I was running late to the town of Passopisciaro on Sunday. Somewhere between Palermo and Catania when I tried to get onto the highway, the road was blocked and I had to backtrack 15 miles. Sicilian roads are famous for their quirky dysfunctional aspect.

Sicily 2013: The Timeless Fountain that is Regaleali

How many times have I opened a bottle of wine from this estate in the last 25 years, never knowing this place? How often has a newer, brighter, younger winery from Sicily appeared in the headlines, while this winery was put back on the second or third page? Is it not a story about life in these times, to take something so important and dismiss it because it is older? Does that make it less significant? Does that decrease the relevance? Is it diminished somehow, because it is not young and pretty anymore?

Sicily 2013: Palermo Street Scenes

Parental Advisory: Some of these images might make you hungry

We're far from the dog days of summer but that was no consolation
for this poor little  abandoned dog near the train station

I’m deep in the heart of Sicily now and the Wi-Fi is irregular. I thought to put this post up, shots of street scene in Palermo on the one day I was there, which was the first day of summer and the longest day of the year. Palermo is an epicenter for street food and many of the vendors have disappeared into history. Two that remain are Zio Toto and Giochinno Campanella, near the al Capo neighborhood, where there is also a famous outdoor market. Feast your eyes on the food and the scenes. It was a hot day in Palermo.

Sicily 2013: Palermo "Full Immersion"

Il Genio di Palermo

If you are reading this then you know I made it to Sicily from France. From the dark, rainy cold of Bordeaux to the sunny, warmth of Sicily. An immersion of sorts, starting in Palermo.

The plan was to meet up with Manuela Laiacona, native Palermitan and a wine journalist and editor at Cronachedigusto.it and the girlfriend of my Calabrese friend Giovanni Gagliardi. Manuela agreed to meet up and show me her Palermo. Manuela is my spirit guide incarnate. I really feel she has taken a life form to usher me though this time and place and I am very grateful for this. Her companion Giovanni is a wonderful fellow - this is all because of the internet and the blog- who cares about monetizing your blog when you can have the possibility to make deep and meaningful friendships?

#Vinexpo 2013: Crashing the Party

Scanning the Twitterverse this week I ran across this tweet: ‏@jamescwilmore “Among opinions I've heard: #vinexpo now just for PR and parties; @ProWein more professional & where more business gets done.”

That might be so, but the event is important in that it is held in the modern epicenter of the wine business. You might not agree, but thousands of producers and winemakers are here, to pervert ZZ Top’s famous lyrics, “just looking for some touch.”

From the Archives: Palermo: It’s now or never

I'm in transit this weekend, heading over to Vinexpo in Bordeaux and then Sicily to visit winemakers. Not sure if there will be WiFi anywhere before posting time, so just in case, I'm posting something from the archives (June 9, 2011). Once I get settled I'll continue to post from the wine trail ( in Bordeaux and Sicily) in the coming days. Buon weekend!

Messages in a Bottle: Vacuum Sealed

Letters from the void*

Dear Italian Wine Guy,
"I recently visited a long-established Italian place in my town. The owners are good friends and honest hard working people. The owner said his business was spotty. “Some days are good. Some days it’s like a mausoleum in here. What can I do?” I sat down for lunch and the waiter took forever to bring me a glass of water. Before that he asked me if I wanted anything from the bar. I asked him what kind of wine he had. “Pinot Grigio, Chardonnay, Chianti, Cabernet.” His heart clearly wasn’t in it. I asked for the wine list. The water eventually showed up as did the menu and wine list.

The place was empty, maybe three tables. It was blisteringly hot outside.

Eventually I settled on a glass of Frascati. The wine was fine enough, but they served it in one of those wine glasses from the 1960’s, you know the ones that are thick like jelly glasses. The wine was cold though, so I overlooked the stemware.

I ordered a mixed antipasto, really more of a vegetable salad. The waiter brought me that along with cruets of oil and vinegar. The oil was rancid and the vinegar was that faceless industrial balsamic stuff that you see around these days. I ate the vegetables dry, sprinkled a little oil on them and tried not to notice its fetid nature.

My question to you is: What do I tell these owners, friends. They clearly are fine people but the world outside their restaurant has moved on, in some cases light years beyond where they are stuck. I just got back from Italy and this is not what Italian food and wine (and service) is like in Italy."

Signed,
Bewildered.

A week on (and on and on) the wine trail in California

 A fantastic blogger/judge

Admittedly, not all roads lead to Rome. But eventually they lead to something Italian, at least in my case. This week I spent in California, first in Sacramento at the California State Fair Wine Competition. Three days of heavy spitting ensued. Along the way we had a caper or two.

Firenza, Sienna and Sorento (Parental Advisory: Cacographic Content)

Recently I was in the market for a car. Somehow when I was on the internet, they’d know that I was looking for a car (cookies) and so I would get solicitations to come test drive this or that. I’d even get a few offers via email, but they usually went into the spam file. I tried to figure out why that was, and I quasi-scientifically deduced it was because there were misspellings that triggered either a “bot” or a person for whom English wasn’t their first (or their second) language.

These were for cars, though, not to bail someone out of jail in Indonesia or help a nephew scurry his uncle’s multi-millions out of Nigeria. Just a car. But for some reason, my internet email saw it as a security risk.

I used to do spelling bees as a kid. Studied Latin all through high school. Love words and love spelling them correctly. Now my grammar, that needs work. I can never get the its and the it’s straight. And so on. But place names in Italy, that’s a no-brainer.

Yep, if you haven’t guessed already, this is a bit of a rant. But it’s like a mild infection. It will pass quickly.

Three Outstanding Prosecco Producers to Seek Out

On this last trip to Italy I spent a week in the Conegliano/Valdobbiadene area, where the Prosecco Superiore DOCG comes from. Over a period of two days, the Conegliano/Valdobbiadene Consorzio arranged for many of us to see wineries and winemakers. I saw eight in two days. It was the equivalent of speed dating, with appointments starting at 9:00 AM and scheduled at 11-11:30 AM, 2:30 PM and 5:00 PM. Twelve hour days, but a really good way to get quick-start and full-immersion towards understanding many of the different realities on the ground in the most prestigious producing area for Prosecco wines.

Three of the wineries are showcased here. Hopefully I will get time to write about the others, but in any event, these three made an impression and I’d like to spend some time noting what it is they do well. These wineries are not in the extremely hilly areas like Cartizze by Valdobbiadene, but they have great exposures and their wines are notable.

And the wind, it cries Mary

After all the jacks are in their boxes

And the clowns have all gone to bed

You can hear happiness staggering on down the street

Footprints dressed in red

And the wind whispers Mary

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

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

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?