Italian Traveller

2012-07-16T04:04:00.002-07:00

A sojourn in Sicily

I love Italy. I love the history, the wonderful architecture, the glorious food, the amazing wines and I love the people, especially the people. I have met princes and principessas and I have met farmers and factory workers. Of all the people I have met, there would be just a handful of men and women who I would not like to meet again and that’s saying something when I have been there over 80 times. I have made lifelong friends and every time I get back home I am already thinking of when I can go back.

Palermo

During my trips I have made several journeys to Sicily where I have seen Palermo and its beautiful baroque buildings and lively markets, the towering Erice that overlooks the land and sea, Monreale - which surely must be in the ‘Top Ten’ of the most beautiful churches in the world and the Greek ruins at Selinunte. I have been to the centre of the island where the land is a golden yellow carpet of wheat and the slopes are a vibrant green with vines and the rocky outcrops that offer protection for the wild sheep and goats. I’ve been to the Straits of Messina, where the mainland can be seen on a clear day. However, I am not going to tell you about all those things, rather I am going to tell you about another comical tale of woe, my trip to ‘Wine Sicily’ where things as normal, went completely wrong. It was about ten years ago but I remember it as if it was yesterday.

I was chosen to be part of a group of six of picked by the Italian Trade Commission as representatives from Australia. This time I was the only journalist, the rest of the group were retailers and importers from Sydney, Melbourne and South Australia. I left for Italy a couple of days earlier than the group accompanied by a representative, Luana, from the Italian Trade Commission in Sydney. We arrived in Sicily and headed straight for the town of Marsala where for two days until the rest of the group arrived. We went sightseeing, ate in a few restaurants and went shopping. It was lovely to be able to enjoy ourselves and relax before the work began.

Erice

Looking down Erice

Our accommodation was in a hotel on the edge of town. It was ‘four star’ without a restaurant (common in Italy) and without much service either. We basically came and went as we pleased and made sure we were home by 11.00pm when they locked the doors. Asking the reception anything meant huge sighs and dirty looks. Our outlook was bleak, we were both given rooms at the back of the hotel which looked out onto a building site (someone had started building a massive building but there was never anybody there while we were) and several industrial units. The hotel, which had been booked out for the whole event by the organisers, had views of the beach and ocean at the front and these rooms were given to the Italian guests of Wine Sicily. This was the perfect opportunity for encouraging international tourism by giving these rooms to the non-Italian guests but this obviously had not crossed their minds.

Saltpans of Marsala

At last everyone arrived. The group, which consisted of 40 importers and large retailers, had all been bussed to Marsala from Palermo and we had just that night together to get to know one another. Our little group of Australians decided to go to a pizzeria called ‘Detroit’, which Luana and I had discovered while waiting for their arrival. It was a memorial to everything Elvis, the decorations, the music and even the pizzas, which were named after Elvis hits. A group of four Canadians attending the wine show waled in and we invited them to sit with us. We had a great time swapping stories and just relaxing. The lone female in their group whose name shall remain silent to protect the innocent (hello Paula), had never been to Italy before and decided to try a shot of Sambuca after our pizzas. We warned her after the second glass that it was quite potent, she said she often had shots of tequila like this and drank several more. She appeared to be coping okay and managed to walk back to the hotel unaided. The next morning however, she looked like death warmed up and had a terrible hangover. She wore dark glasses all day and I don’t think she drank again - except for the tastings - for the rest of the trip.

A church in the distance - Erice

We were up bright and early and had breakfast in the hotel. Hotels in Italy always offer breakfast in a breakfast room but the room remains empty for the rest of the day. It seems a pity not to be able to have meals in the hotel but the cost of having the extra staff and possibly not filling the room prevents this. There are so many inexpensive trattorie, osterie and ristorante that it simply isn’t worth their while.

We were loaded onto buses and taken out to a tiny place called Palavetro. We were never quite sure whether Palavetro was the name of a town or the name of the old aircraft hangar that the wine show was in as we couldn’t see any houses nearby. It was located next to an air force landing strip and planes would come and take off and land every five minutes. It was obviously somewhere they trained the pilots of these military jets. The noise of them taking off and then the sonic boom was horrendous.

We were dropped off at the front doors and the buses left. There was no one to greet us, to tell us where to go, there had been no instructions apart from ‘get on the bus at 8.30’. We were in the middle of nowhere, even the Italians who been on the bus with us were confused. Finally we saw some cars in the distance - or rather we saw the dust of the unsealed road being thrown up as they drew closer. They finally reached us and without further ado opened the doors. They had started the previous day to set things up and the exhibition was nearly ready.

We were herded to an area and told to wait. Again, no one was there telling us what was going to happen. You can imagine every one was feeling a little frazzled by this point - the Italian guests included. We had been there nearly an hour when finally someone came over and directed us to another area with seating and tables and we were told the tasting would begin. We would be tasting 36 wines and after that we would be allowed to talk to the producers. That sounded great as we could see the producers had stands set up on the other side of the building. For the importers, they could talk to new producers, for the journalists we could talk to those already exporting. It sounded great.

However, and there’s always a ‘however’ when it comes to things like this, there was a catch. We would not find that out until later!

Planting new vineyards at Planeta

Before the tasting a gentleman got up and introduced himself and the relevant people standing around watching us. There was the president of the Consorzio, an ‘assessore’ (from the local department of agriculture), the local mayor, Signore this and Signore that and by the time he had finished we had all lost the will to live. He then continued with his welcome for another ten minutes - which was lovely to think we were important enough to have this speech written especially for us but it was done in Italian and I would say that 80% of the visitors did not speak Italian. They were lost during the introductions.

Temples at Selinunte

An interpreter appeared for the tastings. We were all set or so we thought, famous last words. Apparently we were going to taste all 36 white wines without a break (the reds we would taste after lunch). I have done this before as a judge at Vinitaly. It really doesn’t help you evaluate the wines but at least you get to pick out the volatile or the badly made wines and we were there just to try the wines with a view to import. One of the group piped up and asked that maybe we could have a five minute break after half the wines had been tasted. Not necessarily for us but it would help us with the wines as some people had never tried some of the varieties and it would help us recover our palates. This was agreed upon and we started tasting.

Each wine was poured and then the producer came out and spoke about his wine. They obviously spoke in Italian so we had to sit through that and then the interpreter would get up and speak to us in English. Being able to understand the Italian, I started writing notes as soon as the winemaker began. The others couldn’t start until the interpreter translated everything. The translator didn’t take notes and relied on his memory so the English version was extremely truncated and often incorrect and it got worse as more and more people got up and spoke.

We had our break as promised and I mentioned it to the others. They said I should say something to the organisers. As I approached the organisers they were already discussing this with another member of the group who was complaining about the translator. When we started again they had solved the problem: for the second half we had the whole thing in Italian and no interpreter at all. There were no technical notes or handouts which meant that any wine in the second group of 16 was missed out by non-Italian speaking people. Many of the producers looked very unsettled and a few refused to stand up at all.

By this time a number of people (about 400) had slowly been making there way in. The whole pavilion (sounds better than air craft hangar) was full. The entire town had been invited to attend and have lunch (which town?). We were told that lunch was now served. We got up and headed in the general direction and found platters with little or no food on them, just a lot of lettuce leaves. The townspeople, local Fuoco (fire brigade), Carabineiri (Police) and producers had been served while we were sitting tasting the wines. This was going to be a long day........

The official opening of the event was done after lunch and we were entertained by a dance group of folkloric dancers in Sicilian national costume. They were quite good and we all cheered up. They were the most professional thing we had seen by this stage. We were then seated for the second sessions - the red wines.

Once again it was entirely in Italian and the non-Italian speakers were bored. They started talking amongst themselves and the whole thing just disintegrated. The producers were embarrassed and again some of them would not get up to talk. The torture finally ended when the convenor got up and spoke for another ten minutes about how proud he was that we had all come and they had been able to show their wines etc etc, etc.... The we had to wait until the official photographs were taken of us sitting at our tables like school children and the VIPs all had their photos taken for the local newspaper.

We all got up and stretched our legs, we were told that there was going to be a special ‘rice dinner’ prepared for us. Several of the group attempted to leave but were told they could not. We waited for this special rice dinner, and we waited, and we waited - with nothing to do!

By 9.00pm this special rice dinner hadn’t appeared and a flurry of phone calls were made. I don’t know what happened but we were put back on the buses having had no lunch or dinner. We were absolutely ravenous. The drive back to town was extremely quiet, all of us lost in our own thoughts - of food mostly!

Spadafora Winery

We arrived back in town at 9.45pm hungry and tired. Some went straight to their room and others went to find sustenance. I was in the second group with the other Aussies. We went back to Detroit and had pizzas, again.

Day two seemed to be a repeat of Day one. We got up, had breakfast and headed out. We were to be tasting another batch of red wines and then some sweet wines. Sicily produces some of the best sweet wines in the world: wonderful Ben Rye from Donnafugata, Marsala (which isn’t really that sweet if you have a good one) from Cantine Rallo and a plethora of similar products from companies such as Pellegrino, Marco di Bartolo and Florio.

The tasting went off without a hitch - as long as you spoke Italian. This time we had lunch as there were no guests crowding around the tables, only us and the producers.

Verzi, in the centre of the island

We began the sweet wine tasting with different presenters, many of whom spoke English but a number of people in the group had no idea how Marsala was made (using a Solera System). A trip to a winery or some materials with photographs would have been handy as the speakers couldn’t explain it properly without the visual aids. The same thing happened with passito wines. When the tastings were over, many people were still unsure of the processes but they loved the wines.

After the tasting we were told that workshops had been organised with the producers. In actual fact they were one to one meetings which they had set up without bothering to consult either the importer or producer. As a journalist I was keen to talk to the producers that exported to Australia. There were about seven in attendance. I asked if I could see them and was told by an extremely officious lady that ‘We didn’t bring you to the event for a holiday’. I explained that talking to people who didn’t export tWhat could they do, make me pack my things and see me onto a plane, by this time I would have welcomed it.

She took out her mobile phone and spoke to someone somewhere, she then turned and told me I was exempt from seeing the producers, I could talk to them at their stands if I wished. I thanked her and moved off to the stands as quickly as possible just in case she changed her mind. What she didn’t tell me was that the producers were not at their stands as they had ‘workshops’ with the importers. Many were very small producers who had brought no assistants with them so their stands were empty. I slipped out a doorway and into the sun. Several others were already out there. They were refusing to see producers.

The organisers had set up the meetings with absolutely no regard for either party. Importers were looking for specific wines that would fill a gap in their portfolios. The producers were looking for people who needed their wine, people who didn’t already have similar products. It would have been an easy task to send everyone a sheet before we got there asking what their requirements were. We had had information about the event sent to us by the organisers, a form could have been tacked on the end. It would have saved a lot of grief if a little bit of thought had gone into it.

I waited with other journalists as there was no transport back to the hotel. We were soon joined by a number of importers who had turned up for ‘workshops’ but the producers hadn’t.

Day three started with arguments. Many people made their own plans to go and see producers and revolted when they were told they had to get on the bus. The woman who chastised me earlier was once again on the warpath. The bus was only half full and she was threatening people by saying their hotel bill would not be paid and once again, we were not on a holiday.

All in all we had wasted a lot of time over the three days. We could have done all the work on one day and made visits to the wineries on the second and third days. But hey, we were in Sicily!

Next: We visit some wineries

Italian Traveller: A crowd pleaser in Montepulciano

2012-06-13T23:42:00.001-07:00

Italian Traveller: A crowd pleaser in Montepulciano: Weekly market in Montepulciano My travels around Italy (In the guise of work) continued unabated for several years and I have been ve...

A crowd pleaser in Montepulciano

2012-06-13T23:28:00.000-07:00

Weekly market in Montepulciano

My travels around Italy (In the guise of work) continued unabated for several years and I have been very fortunate to have travelled to every region except one - Valle D'Aosta. This time I was back in Tuscany to visit wineries around Montepulciano.

Church of San Biageo which lies below the town

Montepulciano is everything you want a small town in Italy to be: picturesque with views over valleys below and of course, good food and wine. I have now been to Montepulciano about 20 times and every time I go I find something I haven’t seen before.

My first experience of the town was thoroughly enjoyable though it had a touch of comedy to it as well. As usual I was on a bus with half a dozen other journalists and we were going to see Cantine Redi, a historical winery in the heart of Montepulciano.

The town hall and the main piazza

Now Montepulciano is a hilltop town, you have to go up a long and winding road to get to the town which levels out for 100 metres and then goes downhill again. The central piazza is bordered by the Town Hall (Municipio) a church and several other historical buildings. All the citizens live in apartments in the buildings, that could have been built up to 500 years ago, surrounding the piazza and also facing the valleys surrounding the town. The buildings are very attractive and you realise why the tourists love it so much (I kid myself that I am not a tourist as I am working.....).

Cantine Redi was situated part of the way down on the other side of town, the road basically the reverse of the way we had come in. We started downhill and the bus driver was being very careful as the road was only one lane, fortunately there wasn’t any other traffic coming the other way. We got down to a hairpin bend when some German tourists stepped out in front of us. Giulio the driver reacted as he was so shocked and he turned the wheel but he forgot to brake!

The bus ended up brushing a building opposite and losing traction as the road dipped and the road surface sloped away from the tyres on the bend. We were alright as this had all happened in slow motion. We all got off the bus to see how badly the bus was damaged.

Some of the people coming to have a look

Giulio was lucky because the bus had some paint scrapped off (it already had another couple of scrapes anyway)but that wasn’t our biggest problem, our biggest problem was the bus was stuck. Because the bus couldn’t get traction from the two wheels on the right hand side he couldn’t move it at all. People started to gather and hang out of windows, we became the afternoon’s entertainment. Several people gave Giulio suggestions of how to ‘unstick’ the bus as the crowd got larger and larger.

Checking to see we didn't leave a mark on the building

With most of the population of Montepulciano watching, Giulio tried to find a solution. A light bulb went on in his head and he rushed around the back of the bus and found a rope. He said if he tied it to the bumper bar at the back, we could all pull while he got the bus back on four wheels. After we had all stopped laughing, after all there were two women and a man in his seventies and the rest weren’t extremely fit, he realised that it might be a problem especially as all we would achieve would be to remove the bumper bar from the bus in an inappropriate manner.

The tow truck arrives

Someone in the crowd suggested calling the town’s tow truck and he thought that would be a good idea. So he called and we waited. The tow truck, because it belonged to the community, came in about five minutes. The young man got out and had a look at where we were stuck, went to the back of the tow truck and emerged with an older style car bench seat and stuck it under the tyre that had no traction. We thought he was equally as silly as Giulio but when Giulio got back in the bus he found he had traction again and was able to drive the bus several meters so that all four wheels were on the road again.

The tow truck river checking the traction of the wheels

There was a roar from the crowd and the tow truck driver took a bow. He then said for us to accompany him to the office as the tow of 800,000 lire ($800.00 ) had to be paid.

We're on the road again

Our guide Paola then started to panic, where was she going to get $800. She only had $100 on her so she phoned her office. We were all asked if we could contribute $100 and we would be reimbursed sometime over the next couple of days when we got to an ATM. Paola started collecting the money, apologising as she went. We arrived at the office about five minutes away downhill and disembarked. Giulio went in holding our money. We waited and waited, surely it couldn’t take that long to fill in a report and sign a receipt. At last Giulio emerged with a great big smile on his face and our money in his hands.

Waiting for the bill

When he had gone into the office he had been talking to the young tow truck driver. They discovered that Giulio’s boss was the young man’s previous employer and that he also had several mutual aquaintances – who would have known, it’s a small world. Because of this Giulio became an honorary resident and he only had to pay what a resident paid, 20,000 lire ($20). We left the office very quickly in case he changed his mind and made our way, very carefully this time, to Cantine Redi, which turned out to be a fantastic visit.

Next : A trip to Sicily turns sour

A little Mafioso gets in trouble

2012-06-13T01:08:00.003-07:00

The Coast Road

Our trip to Calabria was planned for October when the weather was supposed to be slightly cooler, but it turned out to be an ‘indian summer’ with long hot days. It was great if you intended to visit one of the beachside resorts for which Calabria is famous but not for visiting vineyards.

We were in the vineyards of Nicodemi Librandi and we were melting. Our interest was starting to wane, we were being shown gaglioppo vines and there wasn’t a cloud in the blue, blue sky. Our host, sensing our lack of attention said we would go into the winery and you could feel everyone's relief. The difference between the hot vineyards and the cool winery was fantastic and we soon got our concentration back.

Nicodemi Librandi

Librandi was a lovely host and a few years later I had a chance to meet him again and this time I was on my own. He took me for lunch at a restaurant called Ficcadindia. When we had finished lunch he asked me if I wanted dolce (dessert). It was another hot day so I declined but then I spotted a waiter walking past with watermelon that looked really refreshing and I asked whether I could have some. At the time, I only spoke my family's small town dialect as I hadn’t learnt to speak ‘real’ Italian ,so I asked for ‘zupangolo’ - watermelon. He roared with laughter and said he hadn’t heard it called that for 30 years. It was now commonly known as anguria and where was my family from that they still used this old dialect. Needless to say I started studying proper Italian when I got home.

On this trip we also visited the wineries of Lento and Statti, both of which were interesting and well run. At Statti we met some of the workers, a bunch of happy ladies who allowed us to take photos of them. The winery also had a menagerie of farm animals and one of the Statti brothers picked out one donkey who wouldn't stop braying and he said they even had their own politician pointing at the donkey.

The house at Fattoria San Francesco

We were staying at the agriturismo of San Francesco, a fairly modern winery situated on the land of a former abbey. The agriturismo had actually been redeveloped from the cloisters of the abbey. There was also a very picturesque house on the property where I stayed along with the only other female journalist. Everywhere we went in Italy we were always given separate accommodation - I don’t know why. Would we get up to naughty things at night if we shared the accommodation with men?

The winery was built on a plateau half way up a hill and had spectacular views all the way to the sea. It was one of the most beautiful places I had seen in Calabria, unfortunately the town nearby wasn’t so beautiful. It was under the control of a local mafia. On the morning after our arrival I went for an early morning walk, I hadn’t said anything to anybody and I spent about an hour before breakfast investigating the area. I walked up to the town further up the hill and discovered a place where everything was grey, even the people who were out and about that early. It was depressing, no one smiled, the people looked old before their time and I am not exaggerating when I say the monotone colour of the place was off-putting. It was very depressing.

I decided to go back to the winery and have breakfast and started making my way back down the hill. I spotted some stairs going downhill so I decided to go that way. The staircase took me down to a children’s playground. Everything in the playground was brand new - new swings, a roundabout, several climbing toys and two street lamps. The two street lamps were smashed and around the equipment there was a carpet of smashed glass - so much that I could tell this wasn’t the work of kids. It had been put there on purpose.

A church in the town of Ciro Marina

I made my way back to the winery quite unsettled by the devastation and why had no one cleared up the mess. At the winery there were people running around and calling my name. As I approached, Phillip our guide, came up to me and asked me was I alright. I answered yes and why had everyone been running around and calling my name. I was told I wasn’t to go out on my own again for my own safety, there had been a number of kidnappings in the past year and I would be safer if I stayed with the group. After hearing that I had no problem staying with the group.

After everything had calmed down we had breakfast. I asked about the playground. The housekeeper then told me something very sobering, the local mafia had placed the glass there and had given warnings that anyone who removed it would be dealt with - how, I don’t know but I understand why they didn’t.

Apparently the local mayor had applied for and received money from Rome to build the playground. The local mafia don had waited for his normal cut of the money and was disappointed when he received nothing so he had some men break hundreds of bottles the night before the playground was officially opened and warnings were sent around by word of mouth. I felt very sad for the people in the town - I won’t mention the name of the town, you can find it easily enough if you look for the winery.

A second incident occurred involving the local mafia when a visit to a winery (which I won’t name) was cancelled. We were waiting one afternoon for someone to come from the winery to show us how to get there. A car with two men came down the driveway very slowly. The two men had a look at us waiting and then turned around and took off. We all looked at one another and said “what was that about?” Five minutes later the car came back and did the same thing. When Phillip approached the car to ask if it was looking for us, it took off. A couple of minutes later Fattoria San Francesco received a call that the visit was called off.

Phillip was very angry and called the winery back, after five minutes he managed to convince them that we were indeed journalists and we were intending to visit the winery whether they wanted us or not. They agreed and said they would come back and lead us to the winery. At this stage we weren’t so sure we wanted to go anymore, there was obviously something going on and would we end up being caught up in it?

A few minutes later the car with the two men returned and we all piled in the minibus and off we went. We followed the car to a vineyard that was close to the ocean and we were told to wait. Another car soon arrived and a young man got out, he was wearing sunglasses which seemed a bit strange as it was getting dark. He was dressed all in black and looked like a character for a poster for a gangster movie.

The Saracen market at sunset

It turned out he was the son of the owner and he spoke English well enough to talk to us. He showed us the vineyards and talked about the grapes and the thousands of Indian Figs that dotted the surrounding area but no mention of the winery or offer to take us there was given, instead we were told to get back on the minibus and we were going to have dinner at a lovely resort a short distance away.

Sure enough, a couple of kilometres down the road was a restaurant - I would hardly call it a resort - and we all got out of the minibus. We went in and met the owner, then we were shown to a table outside and the young man from the winery sat down at the table first, making sure he was able to get away fast and had a clear view of anyone entering the restaurant. It was quite chilly but obviously he wanted to make sure no one could sneak up on us. We felt uncomfortable because his companions didn’t sit down, instead they prowled around. It was the fastest meal I had ever eaten and we were soon on our way back to Fattoria San Francesco.

The next day we discovered through some other people that the young man had been beaten up - hence the glasses - and the winery was a mess. Personally I was glad to get out of Calabria although my two sisters-in-law go back occasionally for holidays. There are some lovely spots, beautiful resorts and beaches but I’m not particularly enthusiastic about returning anytime soon!

Next: We have fun in Montepulciano

Is it Ground Hog Day?

2012-05-25T18:43:00.002-07:00

Travelling from Bari north to Pescara was a boring journey. It takes a couple of hours and while the train travels up the coast, the view never changes. It’s the ocean on one side an olive groves on the other. However, we had to get to Pescara for a series of tastings so off we went.

We left Bari in the middle of Carnevale. Hundreds of children were dressed up in beautiful costumes – no simple superman suits here, there were children in fancy silk and satins, a number of Disney characters like Snow White and Cinderella and of course ‘Topolino’, the Italian equivalent to Mickey Mouse. We watched the children for a while, all in the firm grip of their parents, before we moved onto the station.

We arrive in Pescara to find our accommodation is a masseria (a fortified house – a throw back to earlier times when people would need protection) Many masserie have been turned into B&B’s and small hotels. This one was quite interesting, the rooms all had one wall painted with abstract art, the bathrooms were a sort of extension to the room, situated behind a curved wall and without doors. They were quite beautiful in their own way. The staff however, were perhaps not so brilliant. Each morning we were there, breakfast was supposed to start at 8.00am so we could finish and get on the bus for our visits by 9am, but the staff would take their time and it might be 9am by the time they got their act together so we frequently went out with nothing, not even a cup of coffee. This was not good considering we were tasting so much wine!

Anyway, we made the best of it often stopping somewhere along the way to the wineries and picking something up. We had spremuta (fruit juice) instead of coffee and cornetti (Croissants) instead of a full breakfast.

Our first stop was at Casa Vinicola Roxan, a cooperative with over 700 members and 1000 hectares of vines. Cooperatives were quite common in Italy for many years as it meant you could have as little as half a hectare of vines and that was sufficient for you to sell them to the local cooperative as a second income. To some families this was vital. As the wine industry has improved in quality over the last 40 years, number of cooperatives is declining as they find it hard compete in the modern market. The ones still around produce very good wines as they have learnt to adapt often employing consultants and getting the growers to follow guidelines when growing there grapes. They are no longer obliged to take grapes so if the quality isn’t there, they don’t purchase them.

At Roxan we were told the three most important producers in the area were Valentini (the ‘King’ of wine in Abruzzo who passed away last year), Passetti and of course Roxan. Over 80% of producers in the area sell their grapes to the cooperative. Most of the vines grown locally were between 15-18 years old, making them fairly young.

The tasting was being held at the home of a Baron and Baroness. They were an elderly couple, very aristocratic but so nice. Their home was quite opulent with lots of golden fabrics and furnishings. We almost felt like we were intruding but they were lovely and very anxious to please.

The home had been built in the 1700’s. During the height of World War ll the property had been bombed daily as it was used as German headquarters for the area, fortunately it escaped damage. Recent winds however,had taken the tops off a couple of 200 year old pine trees and their nuts were like ammunition as they were hurled at the front door.

The cellar was fascinating, A huge cauldron sat in the middle of the floor and at certain times of the year it was used to cook vin cotto which is used as an ingredient in Puglian dishes. It is also added to wines occasionally to increase the strength.

At the end of the tasting there was a delicious brunch laid out for us, lots of pastries,pizza and locally made Caciocavallo cheese and bread – fortunately none of us were gluten intolerant.

Puglia use to be the doorway to east and also the earliest presence of man can be found there. The It was also the starting point for the Crusades. Most of the olive trees were originally from Israel and the their pips were use as Rosary beads. The pips are always the same size and they used to be used to measure gold – 24 pips = 24 carats = 1 ounce of gold.

We gradually worked our way through another ten wineries over the next couple of days, none of them as interesting as Roxan. On our final day the twins from the wine tourism board told us ‘today you will have a special tasting, ten wineries will get together and you can try all of their wines in one spot. Then, tonight you will have dinner at a special restaurant where they will prepare for you a special meal’. We all thought hooray, we can see all the wineries in one place which should make it a little easier.

We went to the tasting which was held in another stunning Masseria – painted white and very contemporary, and we saw the wineries showing wine at the tasting. They were the same wineries we had just visited over the last three days. Their wines couldn’t have improved in the short space of time so we were very disappointed. Have you ever heard of the film ‘Ground Hog Day’ starring Bill Murray? That’s how we felt – repeating the same thing everyday until we got it right. The twins had not found anybody new. We did taste the wines but an argument with the twins ensued and we left. We didn’t go to the dinner either, we went and had pizzas in Bari. We discovered it was a 15 course meal and we just couldn’t take it anymore. The tourism twins were using us to make themselves look good. We packed up and headed back to Bari where we were to spend a couple of days in yet another Masseria.

We arrived just as the sun was setting, the Masseria appearing out of the evening mist after a long drive up a private road. It looked like a set for a horror movie. It might have been deserted and was one of the few we had seen that actually looked like a fortress. It was not the most welcoming place. The lights were off and we knocked on the door and called out for about ten minutes. We were just about to give up when a man came from the back of the building, coming towards us looking as if we had just dropped in from out of space. We explained we were a group of wine journalists and we had booked in. He asked us to wait and he went back in the Masseria. Then, the front door opened and a large woman said to come in. She told the man to get our bags and take them to a group of outbuildings nearby. Apparently we were to stay there and not the house.

We were all processed – passports photocopied and forms filled in – and were given keys to our ‘rooms’. The Masseria must be very popular in summer as there was all sorts of sports equipment lying around. The rooms were very thoroughly depressing, obviously the sports-people that came in summer must have been at the cheaper end of the market. The shower was over the toilet and the basin next to it. The water was freezing, about the same temperature as the rooms. The one lonely light bulb shone bravely but created spooky shadows. They were not the most comfortable rooms.

We met in a kind of pergola in the grounds and discussed our rooms, everybody had experienced the same thing. We went into dinner glad that we only had to stay there the one night.

When we went into the house we were taken to the dining room. Once again it was freezing but there was a fireplace set up for a fire, maybe that would be lit and we would be nice and toasty. Both the man and the woman kept coming into the room but the fire remained a heap of sticks so finally I asked in my best Italian if it could be lit. Bad move! I got a mouthful of moaning and groaning about the cost but a few minutes later they lit the fire.

We were sitting there freezing and feeling a little trapped while the tiny fire flickered in the corner. The woman came in from the kitchen and said there was a telephone call for one of my colleagues. (We had all been sent a list of properties and phone numbers in case our families had an emergency.) It turned out to be Michael’s wife, their 18 year old cat was very ill an she wanted to take it to the vet and have it put down but she wanted to ask him first as he was very fond of the cat.

Michael came back and told us, we were all upset but it turned out to be good luck as it formed the basis of our escape plan. We would say that the call was about a relative who was very sick and we had to leave because Michael had to fly back to the States. So while we waited we went back to our rooms, one at a time, and placed our suitcases back on the bus, the driver then brought the bus close to the front door and then our guide told the lady that we had to leave because of Michaels’s sad story.

The owner agreed and you have never seen people leave a table so quickly. We piled on the bus and drove off straight away to the cries from the woman ‘I still need to be paid!’

Relief! And, you don’t have to worry about the payment, the organiser ended up sending money through to the woman.

Once we were on the bus again, our guide phoned the hotel in Bari where we had stayed at the beginning of the trip and secured new rooms. Unfortunately for us, Bari was now in the middle of a large medical conference and we had to take what rooms they had. I ended up in a room used by the staff next to the kitchens, I heard pots and pans as well as yelling for several hours but at least I was nice and cosy and it was only one night.

The next day we left the hotel for Bari airport for the trip back to Rome and then home. We arrived around 7.00am. Our connecting flights took off from Rome at various times so I was left until last as I was staying on in Rome. One of my colleagues had borrowed a walking stick in Rome and as he was getting a connecting flight to Hong Kong asked me to take the stick back to where it could be shipped back to the owner. My turn to board came and I attempted to take the walking stick. I wasn’t allowed on board because the stick wasn’t mine. I said could it be put in with the baggage and was told no. I then said where would I put it, it had to be taken back to Rome. They capitulated and agreed I could put it with the baggage but they couldn’t guarantee it would make it to Rome, they were right, it had disappeared.

Next: The mafia are getting very close

Italian Traveller: Where's the bus when you need it.

2012-05-07T02:44:00.001-07:00

Italian Traveller: Where's the bus when you need it.: So we’re still at the Palace Hotel in Bari and today we have to take a drive into the countryside to see various wineries and the histo...

Where's the bus when you need it.

2012-05-07T02:22:00.000-07:00

So we’re still at the Palace Hotel in Bari and today we have to take a drive into the countryside to see various wineries and the historical Castel Del Monte - Castle on the Mount.

Our departure time is 9.00am and we are to assemble at the front of the hotel and wait for the bus. I walk down, it’s about 8.45 am and I am soon joined by two others from the group. The bus comes and we get on board. I put my camera bag, which contains all my money and passport on a seat. I see a news-stand across the road and say to the guys on the bus “I’m just going to pop over and get a magazine, I’ll be right back.” I took some money out of my wallet and got off the bus.

I walk over the the news-stand and buy my magazine and walk back. The bus has gone, it’s nowhere to be found. I am alone in Bari with a magazine and no money.

For the first time on this trip the whole group was ready on time and even stranger, the bus driver decided to leave early as everyone was on board - except me! While I had walked across the road and purchased my magazine everybody had come downstairs and in the space of a couple of minutes had got on the bus, including a gentleman from some tourist board who was to give us a talk on Castel del Monte on the way. He gave them each a map and told them to open it which they did and so nobody noticed I wasn’t there, the loudest person on the trip, the only female and they didn’t notice.

I looked for the bus thinking that they had moved it just to trick me and I had wandered up several lane ways and streets to no avail, the bus was not there. I was left wondering what to do: (a) I could spend the entire day wandering about Bari but I didn’t have my camera or any money or (b) I could go back to my room and read my magazine and catch up on some rest. I decided to go back to my room and read my magazine and decide later whether I wanted to have a look around or sleep.

So I walked back into the hotel just as the receptionist came looking for me. Apparently they had got out of the city and realised I wasn’t on the bus, my camera bag was there but I was not. Where had I disappeared to?

Everybody on the bus had opened their maps as the man from the tourist board requested. They were big maps and had to be held with both arms outstretched. When he asked them to put their maps down they realised I was not there.

Frank, my Dutch friend who is totally oblivious to anything except food and wine said he had seen me back at the hotel and then Bill, the New Yorker, said I had got off to buy a magazine. Livia, our guide, then phoned the hotel just as I was walking back in and asked if I was there. The receptionist had seen me come back inside and gave me the phone. Livia asked me if I could catch a taxi and they would wait. I said I couldn’t catch a taxi and they would have to come back and pick me up or leave me at the hotel, I didn’t mind but as I had no money on me and wherever they were was a 20 minute ride away and I could get lost I wasn’t prepared to take the chance or I could stay at the hotel and they could see me when I got back. Fortunately the guys voted to come back and pick me up.

The man from the tourist board had been boring them to death about the ‘golden number’. I never really found out what this was but apparently it was the measurement by which everything in the world can be measured. It is the same distance between your hand and elbow and it is the perfect number. As everybody’s hand to elbow measurement is different I was never able to work it out.

When they arrived back at the hotel I was very angry and asked how could they go off without me. Each one had a different excuse and they were all very solicitous for the rest of the day. But, the guy from the tourist board who had been talking since they left was still going so I had to listen to the end of his speech which made absolutely no sense to me.

Our first stop was the wonderful Castel Del Monte, high on a hill its octagonal walls of blond stone give off the colour of the sun. As sunset draws in the castle turns pink, reflecting the colours of the dying sun. It is a huge edifice, dwarfing everything around it and it has an extremely long path to get up to the small front door, at least it looks small from a distance, as you get up closer it towers above your head.

The castle proved to be very interesting. They didn’t sell any literature at the castle which I felt was a lost opportunity but nevertheless, it was a marvellous experience.

It was originally built in the 13th century and for many years it was thought it had been used as a hunting lodge because it doesn’t have a moat or drawbridge but that is not the case now. There is no proof that Emperor Frederick ever visited the castle let along used it for hunting. It was used at one stage as a prison and after that as a place of refuge during the plague.

It was once highly decorated but over the centuries everything has been removed either by design or theft. It is now bare but this offers a stunning view of the building. Some of the marble was taken to Caserta to be used in the royal palace there and the rest by brigands (as it was explained to us). There are still some traces of the rare red marble on some of the columns and you can still see the outlines of architraves which sit above some of the doors. Legend has it that once in the castle you could only walk in a clockwise direction and that is why the doors are only decorated on one side.

The inner courtyard of this unique castle has long windows which look out on a central courtyard. Having conversations must have been fun because you voice carries as you lean out the windows and speak.

The views are spectacular as you are above everything, this part of Puglia is very flat and the fact that this was built on the only hill in the area makes it even more imposing.

Finally we have had our fill of the castle and we head off to visit the wineries we had on our agenda.

Next: We get on a revolving wheel (metaphorically speaking)

Italian Traveller: A magnificent hotel, pity about the restaurant!

2012-05-02T21:46:00.001-07:00

Italian Traveller: A magnificent hotel, pity about the restaurant!: Part of the University of Bari Sunday February 27 in 2000 is a date forever etched into my memory. I was back in Puglia and for the ne...

A magnificent hotel, pity about the restaurant!

2012-05-02T21:32:00.000-07:00

Part of the University of Bari

Sunday February 27 in 2000 is a date forever etched into my memory. I was back in Puglia and for the next seven days my life was one comedy act after another – even though I didn’t think so at the time.

We arrived at the Hotel Palace in Bari. We had caught a domestic flight from Rome and the ubiquitous mini bus had picked us up. We all checked in and found we were in one of the better hotels in Bari, the rooms were quite palatial compared to other hotels we had stayed in.

The buildings are absolutely amazing

We were all ready to hit the road and taste some wine at Cantine Coppi. At 5.00pm we left the hotel and headed out. At Cantine Coppi we were met by two young girls, the daughters of the owner – we thought, we never really discovered. They were obviously chosen because of their language skills, the spoke English well enough to be understood and we had an enjoyable tasting with them although back then I wouldn’t have said the wine was the best. In fact we started saying that any wine that didn’t come up to scratch was a ‘coppi-cat’. We confused several people by saying this. These days I can assure you that Cantine Coppi is producing lovely wines that frequently win awards.

We went back to the hotel and got changed for dinner. Oh what fun awaited us as we were lambs going to the slaughter!

Piazza Ferrarese

A restaurant bordering the piazza

The restaurant was at the top of the hotel and we got out of the elevator to a large foyer. There was a room to one side made up for about a dozen people and we thought maybe that was for us. There were seven journalists, Livia our guide, twin sisters from the tourism board and the mayor of Bari had promised to dine with us - for a scruffy bunch of journos, we felt very important.

We soon found out that we were not seated in this nicely decorated room when we were shooed out by an overly enthusiastic waiter who kept yelling at us to leave. Those of us who understood Italian left immediately but the others didn’t understand what was going on and this infuriated the waiter whose pitch got even louder (if you speak louder they will understand). We had to go back and herd the remaining people out before the guy had apoplexy.

While we were wandering around like lost sheep Livia arrived and following close on her heels the mayor. He spoke to Livia and then shook hands with us all and basically said or inferred that an important person had arrived from Argentina and we were no longer important enough for him and he would be dining with this other person. We were very surprised, not that he wouldn’t dine with us – that we understood – but it was what he said, very, very odd.

At this stage we were all laughing at what had happened and with Livia leading the way walked into the restaurant. There we were introduced the two ladies from the tourism board. Although they were twins, they were not identical so it was quite easy to tell them apart. They sat next to one another and were very friendly.

We were seated and then the menu came out, joy of joys, that night they were having a special degustation of donkey meat. We declined and asked for the normal menus to the utter disgust of the Maitre D. We chose our meals along with Frank, the Dutchman, who went for the degustation. We then saw the wine menu and ordered the wine, specific products that we were all keen to try.

We sat talking until the meals came out, it was an extremely long conversation. Finally they started coming, unfortunately not all of them and in the wrong order. The entrees and mains came out together. Some people got an entree, some people got a main and one person got both at the one time. Some people got entrees they had ordered and some people got completely different meals. One of the waiters was on his mobile phone and just plonked the plate down and walked away so he could finish his conversation.

We tried to call the waiters back but they were successfully ignoring us so we looked for the Maitre D. We saw him on the other side of the room with a mobile phone fixed to each ear. We thought we had entered the filming of some comedy TV show like Candid Camera. It was totally crazy. The Maitre D finally put down one phone and came over. By the time he had got to our table he had finished his conversation and said could he help.

He said the entrees were very similar to what we had ordered an the kitchen must have substituted them for some reason and he was sure we would enjoy them. Franks first course of his degustation arrived at this point and he started eating. We decide to keep the entrees because it was less trouble and we were hungry by this stage. However, the mains had to go back and entrees serve to those people.

Frank’s next course came out and he kept on eating.

We asked where our wine was and a bottle came out and was poured, then the bottle disappeared again. We were suspicious and asked for the bottle. It was returned and it turned out not to be the wine we had ordered. Once again the ‘kitchen’ had substituted the wine thinking that we wouldn’t notice – they picked the wrong crowd, we knew our wines and we had expected a good wine and we got a terrible wine.

Franks next course came and he continue eating.

By this stage the guys were getting a little touchy, it was no longer fun. Bill, a New Yorker with a short fuse decided he’d had enough and got up and left. He said he had seen a pizzeria near the hotel and if anybody felt like it they could join him.

Franks continued his Donkey degustation without comment.

By this time Bill had disappeared, Aaron was next to follow. Michael then left and Jim joined him. Livia got up and left Frank, the twin sisters from the tourist board and me.

The seafront in Bari

Frank continued to munch away.

I finally said my apologies and left.

Frank kept on eating.

Next: I get left behind

Italian Traveller: A mass of Marinas - Part 2

2012-05-01T21:21:00.001-07:00

Italian Traveller: A mass of Marinas - Part 2: As we travelled further into the Abruzzo countryside we enjoyed the ever-changing scenery, the limestone hills, the hilltop towns and th...

A mass of Marinas - Part 2

2012-05-01T21:18:00.002-07:00

As we travelled further into the Abruzzo countryside we enjoyed the ever-changing scenery, the limestone hills, the hilltop towns and the vast area of vineyards along the eastern side of the region.

Our first stop was at the Hotel Villa Majella, a gorgeous four star hotel with views all the way to the Gran Sasso (Big Rock) which appeared quite close it was so large. The Gran Sasso is the highest mountain in the region and it was covered all the way down into the foothills with snow. It was amazing to see the snow on the mountains and then the green of the countryside. The view went on forever.

The hotel was in the town of Guardiagrele in the province of Chieti. It had recently been snowing and it was bitterly cold. After sitting on the bus for more than two hours we wanted to stretch our legs so those of us brave enough to take on the cold weather walked from one end of the town to the other. This took all of about ten minutes. Most of the buildings were quite old but there were some modernish (1950s) apartment blocks. I can’t remember much about the town except the steep drop down from the road into a valley, this allowed great views of the area. The town had a population of around 10,000 and took its name from the watchtower - Guardia. We were lucky to have a hotel with such a high standard in the area which was it seemed entirely rural.

After our arrival and before dinner we fitted in a visit to Azienda Agricola Santoleri owned by Umani Ronchi in Marche. It was their first foray into Abruzzo Part and they had only just taken over. The manager had set out a ‘few’ pastries for us to try with the wines - in other words in typical Italian fashion the table was loaded. As I said in the previous post, I think we must have been pigs in our last lifetime as we set about demolishing the plates of food but even we could not finish them. I would give you all my tasting notes on the wines but there really isn’t any point because the wines would be long gone by now.

Our return to the hotel saw the evening closing in and the weather turn nasty. After our magnificent evening meal (yes, we were ready to eat again!) we all went to our beds very satisfied and looking forward to the next day. It was one of the best night's sleep I have ever had in Italy - in the countryside with no traffic and pouring with rain and a terrific amount of food in our stomachs .

The next morning saw a very quiet group turn up for breakfast. The rain had cleared overnight and the morning was fresh, some of us had even got up a little early and gone for a walk to clear our heads. The sun was shining and the air was so crisp. I managed to take some photos before we left to go to Fattoria Bruno Nicodemi Dei Colli Venia in the winemaking zone of Teramo or Colline Teramane.

Bruno Nicodemi is now known for making superb Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, a wine often discounted by wine experts - the grape not the brand - but I feel is one of Italy’s best products. Montepulciano is a flavourful red wine that can be enjoyed with a simple pizza, pasta or roasted meats. It is a success story as it is one of the few wines made in Italy where you can’t make a mistake, it’s generally good stuff. Of course there will always be badly made stuff, made with a price in mind but you can still buy Montepulciano d’Abruzzo at a reasonable price.

Montepulciano has little to do with the town of the same name in Tuscany. The grape has been grown in Abruzzo for centuries and it is related to Sangiovese. It is thought that originally someone from Tuscany brought the vine with them to plant in Abruzzo and they may have come from the town of Montepulciano. However, over the centuries the grape has changed finding a new ‘terroir’ and its flavour profile has changed along with it. It is a little more full-bodied than sangiovese, a little less acidic and the colour is richer as well. I think that is why it has done so well in Australia.

Arriving at Bruno Nicodemi we drove through a dramatic path of trees which teased us with glipses of the winery the closer we got.The mag The trimmed pines partnered by olive trees were well looked after and the driveway was more reminiscent of Tuscany rather than Abruzzo. They guided us all the way past the vineyards and a small lake until we reached the end where the whole family came out to meet us.

The winery is famous for its Trebbiano ‘Bacco’ which contains 15% Chardonnay. A lot of Trebbiano is grown in Abruzzo and most of it is very average wine but Bruno Nicodemi seems to have worked out just exactly what the wine needs. With good acidity and a floral nose with good fruit, it is very enjoyable. It has a persistent green apple finish which goes on and on - pity the wine isn’t available in Australia.They also make a beautiful Cerasuolo Montepulciano d’Abruzzo. This soft rose wine has a subtle flavour that is perfect for in-between seasons and summer dining.

We left Bruno Nicodemi for Illuminati, another family winery where the family came out to meet us. Illuminati is sold in Australia exclusively through Woolworth’s Dan Murphy stores and selected stores under their other brands BWS and Woolworth’s Liquor. The wines are very good value for money and my personal favourite is Ripparosso, an excellent easy drinking wine made from Montepulciano - the name kind of grabs me - its a ripper rosso!

We were staying for dinner at the winery and so we spent a great deal of time there which was very good for me. When they came out to Australia a few years ago I was a special guest at a lunch for some journalists. The father Dino remembered me and asked that I attend and keep him company. It was wonderful even after all that time.

The property is in Contraguerra and covers 80 hectares with 75 planted with vines. The panoramic views were exceptional and we couldn’t have felt more at home because the family were so nice. This was one visit that I will remember for a long time.

Another visit I will remember because it was so odd was Orlando Contucci. My interest in Italian wines began when I met Robert Gavagna. I was working for an Italian Publication in Sydney and I wrote a story on Gavagan Brothers, a wine importing company run by Robert. He had inherited the company from his father and had run it successfully since the death of his elder brother. I went to work for Robert and his nephew John, who took over when Robert retired, and they were both terrific to work for.

But getting back to Orlando Contucci, our visit turned out to be very awkward. Marina Orlando Contucci (yes, another Marina) was very abrasive with us. I don’t know whether she was nervous or it was just her manner. She talked about her winery and the history of the company and then she said to us she had lots of importers around the world and then proceeded to list them. When she came to Australia she named Gavagna Brothers as her importer which was news to me, I knew the Gavagna portfolio inside out and in fact, knew all the owners and sales managers of the wineries as well due to my frequent trips with both Gavagna men and on my own.

When I asked when had she dealt with Gavagna Brothers - it might have been before my time - she said she was exporting at that time. I said politely that she must have the name wrong, it must be another importer but she was adamant. I dropped the matter but when I got home I found she had sent some samples to Gavagna Brothers which had been rejected. It seemed she was right, she had exported 6 whole bottles!

Her property was a great deal larger than Illuminati, it was 850 hectares and her claim to fame was interesting: her father Corrado Orlando Contucci established the first Italian Embassy in the USA after WWII.

With our last day coming quickly we finally had a free night so what did we do - we went out and tried some more wine!

We had an 8.30 start on our last day. It was a Saturday and we had three wineries to go to. Casa Vinicola Roxan Soc. Coop. A.r.l., Az Agr Passetti and Az Agr Masciarelli. Of the three, I can only remember Roxan and Masciarelli, I have no notes on Passetti which must mean something.

Our visit to Roxan was surprising as they had decided to host us at the home of one of the co-op members. It was a magnificent house belonging to a barone (baron) and his wife. The rooms were very opulent and the elderly couple were extremely friendly although slightly confused about what was going on. It was a thoroughly enjoyable visit.

By the time we got to Masciarelli it was getting dark so we had a quick look in the cantina (wine cellars) and then we went into the house for dinner where we met his wife Marina - Marina Cvetic. It seemed we could not escape the name.

The wines of Masciarelli were excellent and for quite some time afterward I tried to interest a number of importers to no avail. They still remain without an importer but if you go to Italy or anywhere else where you seem the name, they are worth trying. Gianni Mascerelli passed away several years ago, he was a still a relatively young man (about 45) and his wife now runs the wine business.

Sunday arrived and most people left for Rome, I on the other hand being a glutton for punishment went to to meet several other journalists arriving in Bari where we had a really entertaining trip which involved eating donkey, the bus leaving without me and a strange castle in the countryside. This is where things went from bad to worse!

Next: Unforgetable Puglia - again!

To Abruzzo with love

2012-04-27T22:45:00.001-07:00

Travelling on a mini bus complete with a mink coat, my friend Marina decided to join us on our visit to Abruzzo. She figured as she had organised the trip she would accompany us. Looking glamorous in her fur (still common in Italy) she looked slightly incongruous, obviously not one of the group as we all looked very casual and crumpled in our jeans and jackets.

We arrived at our first winery (which I won’t name as it will embarrass them) and were welcomed by our guide, the director of IRMUS, an agricultural department of the local government. ‘Lino’ was obviously a ‘ladies man’ and gravitated immediately to Marina, who I must admit looked fabulous. He took her by the arm and spoke to her as if she was the only person in the world. This was quite remarkable considering he was supposed to be guiding us through the company’s winery and products. The guys were getting fed up while my friend Patricia (who lives in Italy) and myself were laughing at the obviousness of his attention. Marina was terribly embarrassed and tried to evade his attentions.

As it turned out, he didn’t really know a lot about wine and said a lot of stupid things that put everyone offside, things like the winery’s spumante was better than the finest quality Champagne when we as a group couldn’t even finish it. There was only one wine that was universally liked, an inexpensive Novello.

We finished our tour of the winery and thought we would get rid of Lino here but no, he accompanied us back all the way to the agriturismo where we were staying the night. I must say we all behaved ourselves very well and waited until he finally left before we all had a good laugh.

On te top of the hill, a farmer's cottage for inclement weather

It was late autumn and getting very cold so the next morning we all rugged up for our next foray into the wilds of Abruzzo. Again I will not name the winery as I wouldn’t want to give them bad publicity even though they deserve it.

We found Colle S after a long drive on the highway which travelled over the water – half road half bridge. When we finally arrived we saw a winery which had seen better days but still produced over a million bottles a year and with an enormous market in Miami of all places. We were taken to the director’s office and provided with a motley assortment of chairs. As the winery wasn’t in production at that time there wasn’t anyone else around except for two men who never introduced themselves. We were welcome but no names or positions were mentioned.

We were told all about the winery and the new vineyards that had been planted, how far they were above sea level they were (300 metres) and the fact that they produced 100% organic wines. We also learnt about a 400 year old cottage that was going to be renovated and made into a tasting room. It felt that the room we were in was around about the same age, as it had become dramatically colder while we were sitting there.

They asked us if we would like to taste the wines, of course we said yes and out came a lot of tumblers which you would use for beer or soft drink. Now tumblers do have their place but a wine tasting isn’t it, especially when there is a shelf of Riedel wine glasses just sitting there. We asked if we could use the Reidel glassware and we were told no, they were only used at Vinitaly. I would have thought that if you had a number of wine writers from all over the world you would want them to get the best impression of your wines but obviously not, we simply weren’t good enough for the good glasses!

Marina picks some olives

Our next stop was much more pleasant and was where I learnt how to judge olive oil. Marina Colonna is a Principessa (princess) who runs an olive farm in Abruzzo and produces amazing olive oils. Her extra virgin olive oil and infused oils are available in several shops around Australia and I would advise anyone who cooks fish to try her lemon infused oil.

Picking the olives

We strolled through the olive groves as they were picking the olives, Marina stooping occasionally to tell us something or to scoop up a collection of olives. Unlike most of the producers in the area, Marina picks her olives when they are barely ripe and she presses them straight away at her own Frantoio (The quicker you press them the better the oil. You don’t want to let them oxidise at all). Many local producers leave their olives on the trees and harvest them by machine. It grabs the tree and shakes the trunk leaving the ripe olives to fall off onto mats on the ground, cheaper but it produces a slightly poorer oil as the olives can be damaged and are often over ripe.

Sheep in a shed

Marina Colonna also has 800 sheep on her farm. These are milked daily and the milk goes to a local cheesemaker. The sheep were kept in two enormous brick barns and although not tethered , they never saw the outside world except through the doors of the barn. There were over 100 lambs when we were there and this way of keeping them was absolutely normal. The lambs were very cute but I don’t know how long that lasts as the older sheep were the ugliest sheep I have ever seen with long narrow faces like look more like goats.

An olive grove on Marina Colonna's land

We then went into the house (a magnificent 200 year old villa) and we sat down and learnt the principles of olive oil tasting which is very similar to wine tasting. You just do it back to front. You smell the oil, taste it and then look at the colour. The tasting is one with blue coloured glasses so that the colour doesn’t influence you at all. However, even though the aroma is pleasant you can feel quite queasy after the tasting as you can’t spit. The oil has to be swirled around the mouth and then swallowed to get the full effect of the oil in the throat. After about ten oils you start to feel sick but I am told that the more experience you get the more oils you can taste.

Lunch was presented next and we were served a lovely meal of lobster with pasta or lamb and pasta. We must have appeared to be pigs in disguise as we all had both. We then had a main meal of Salmon or baked lamb. Again we all stuffed ourselves with both. The food was ‘stupendous!’ We finished off with a simple crostata which was the only thing to serve as anything richer would have made us ill after the olive oil tasting and the hearty meal.

We rose from the table, all of us feeling the inevitable effects of too much food and said our goodbyes and made our way to the bus. We still had another two wineries to visit that day, the last one included dinner. Our last thoughts on getting back on the bus were ‘Would we ever eat again?

Apruntino - wonderful ceramics museum

Next: Our journey continues in Abruzzo

Molise, small and perfectly formed

2012-04-07T01:07:00.001-07:00

Molise is one of the smallest regions in all of Italy, covered by mountain ranges and hills, it is also one of the most beautiful landscapes – especially in winter.

Molise used to be part of Abruzzo but in 1963 the region seceded and became master of its own destiny. In the year 2000 I was invited to visit the region which has only a few wineries. Our host for the three day stay was Alessio De Majo Norante, who with his father Luigi, opened their house to us.

Their estate is probably the largest and more commercially viable than most of the others. It covers 180 hectares and has 65 under vine. At the time of my trip there were only 5 producers and 3 cantine sociale in the region. Today there are several more and the region is producing quite good wine although it hasn’t quite reached great wine status.

Alessio, who drove an eight seater car/van, picked us up in Rome and drove back to Molise, a trip of about two hours along the freeway. We arrived at the farm, freshened up and then went straight out to have lunch. We drove about ten minutes and arrived at a tiny restaurant called Ristorante Ribo, a fish restaurant up a hill and a fair way from the sea.

We were met by the three-in-one owner and chef and on that day, the waiter. He showed us a magnificent collection of salamis he had just made and were hanging to dry in the back of the restaurant. We then say down quite impressed and looking forward to a great lunch. Here was his opportunity to show what he could do, four willing food and wine writers ready to compliment each dish.........

As a starter, he brought out a plate of what he called Italian Sushi. It was raw fish but not what you would expect, small raw prawns in their shell and raw squid. It was awful, especially as he sat and showed us how to eat it – shells and all! We then a piece of fried fish, crispy and dark golden brown, cooked so much it was like a piece of wood. We managed to eat some of them while we discussed how he managed to stay in business. According to our host, he did a roaring trade in meat dishes!

The next day we were taken to yet another fish restaurant that was owned by another colourful character, this time a flashback to the 60’s. The owner, who was also the maitre’d, dressed in a black velvet suit and had long ringlets like one of the ‘new romantics’. The fish at this restaurant was a revelation, it was out of this world. After bringing out a great big bass to show us what we were going to eat, we started eating. The fish broth we had as a starter was terrific, the pasta was even better and the main meal was so tasty – I didn’t know fish could be that good! We asked our host why he had taken us to see the first restaurant when he knew it was second rate and he said ‘so we could really appreciate the second’.

When we arrived back at the winery, we were just in time to see them cleaning up after they had made mozzarella. Thick beautiful braids called trecce were sitting on the table, one of them cut for us. Even though we had had a big lunch, we enjoyed the mozzarella, fresh and tasty, perfect with tomatoes.

Millie

The next day we had a proper tasting of the De Majo wines and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves with our host who couldn’t do enough for us. We walked through the vineyards and played with his dogs, one of which took a liking to me – the only problem was I am only 150cms tall and Mollie the dog was a great big mountain dog and whenever she stood up to reach my shoulders she was taller than I was, and a great deal heavier!

The town of Lupara

We ended the visit the next morning and Alessio drove us to Guardiagrelle in Abruzzo where we were to meet another couple of journalists and continue on with our trip. It was sad seeing him go as we had spent three lovely days with him.

Next time we continue with our trip to Abruzzo where we meet some winemakers with strange ideas

Forward to Friuli

2012-02-14T01:54:00.000-08:00

In May 1999 I was invited to Friuli on a press trip. I hadn’t been to Friuli but I knew several winemakers from this beautiful region of Italy so I was quite excited. I landed in Venice and met the rest of the group, which for a change contained more women than men, before we hopped on the proverbial mini-bus and began our journey. It was a short trip, just a couple of hours past some of the prettiest landscape I had seen in Italy. In the distance there were snow capped mountains and in the foreground green fields and vineyards. It felt crisp and fresh as we made our way north-west to close to Udine.

Fantinel Vineyards at Spilimbergo

We travelled to the Hotel Weiner located in San Giovanne al Natisone, a picturesque part of Friuli – it was a pity the hotel wasn’t as picturesque. It was right next to a railway line and at the time the war was a war going on in Bosnia. The freight trains loaded with equipment used to go past every night, I don’t know why as Italy wasn’t involved with the war. All you would hear was the heavy loads shifting from side to side and the squealing of the brakes which seemed to stop and start. The hotel was as basic as it could be, iron beds and blankets, the sort of thing you would stay in if you were a commercial traveller in some backward eastern-bloc country. The female owner was very stern and very demanding. She took our passports when we checked in and wouldn’t give them back until we left.

At that stage Friuli was without the infrastructure for tourism and many towns didn’t have a hotel let alone a good one. That changed within a very short time and I have since been back and stayed at some lovely hotels that have been converted from large houses.

I had met some of my companions on earlier trips but there was also a new journalist joining us on the trip, one that would prove to haunt me a little later that year.

Belltower at Ca Ronesca

We visited several wineries over the next two days: Azienda Borgo Conventi in Farra d’Isonzo , Azienda Fantinel in Dolegna del Collio, Azienda Ca’ Ronesca, Azienda Venica e Venica also in Dologna (and where we first experienced Prosciutto di San Daniele and Fricco made from Montasio cheese). At one stage we crossed the border to Slovenia to meet Renato Keber in Cormons. Our last call before we left the Hotel Weiner was Russiz Superiore in Capriva del Friuli which for some reason, had a tunnel all the way from the vineyard to the house. I can’t remember why but it was a long, long tunnel. At Russiz Superiore, the owner, Marco Felluga, had organised for a local chef to come in and cook a meal for us. Apparently our visit was so special that several wineries had done the same thing. The chef prepared a wonderful meal of pasta then guanciale (pigs cheeks) slow roasted with a selection of vegetables and a crostata of forest fruits. It was fantastic, we all left complimenting the chef and thanking Marco, who sadly has sinced passed away.

The next day we had some free time so we travelled to Aquilea, an ancient Roman city that sits on the edge of the lagoons. At one time a thriving port, today it is landlocked with many of the canals empty and the sea wall running across land but was at one time the edge of the sea. It was a starting point for many nationalities including Celts, Greeks, Jews and Syrians who helped establish a thriving commercial city. One of the most interesting things in the whole of Aquilea is the floor of the cathedral which was completed in the 11^th century. The floor is covered in beautiful mosaics, most of them protected by walkways if my memory serves me correctly. Some of them are complete while others have parts missing, whether stolen or just lost. These are completed with big gaps covered with cement but the whole thing when it was first built must have been stupendous.

A statue in the garden of Ca Bolani

We left Aquilea at lunch time to visit a winery with the delightful name Ca Vescovo – the Bishops House. We followed this by a visit to Molin Di Ponte – the mill of the bridge, owned by Ca Bolani. The Bolani family were very wealthy in Roman times with Count Domenico, the Procurator of the Venetian Republic in Friuli. This whole area had a very strong connection with ancient Rome and Julius Caesar kept several battalions of Roman soldiers here. It was regarded as the Rome of the north and a statue of Caesar still stands in the piazza of Cividale, a major town in the area.

We headed to a most unusual winery next, that of Walter Filiputti. A barbecue and evening of entertainment had been planned for us and the welcome we received was very effusive. The winery and vineyards were in the grounds of the Abbazia di Rosazza. The abbey is owned by the archdiocese of Udine and the vineyards, well I’m not too sure. Walter was a guy who could sell snow to eskimos and we weren’t quite sure what he said was truthful – there would be a grain of truth and then a lot of BS.

Surrounding the abbey, which was high on a hill, were thousands of rose plants, every type of rose in every hue, they were spectacular. We arrived when they had just come into bloom and the smell of the flowers was intoxicating and the bees death defying!

Walter told us that he had recently resurrected a grape from extinction. The red pignolo grape makes a lovely smooth wine that is quite complex in its structure. He said it had been found in a vineyard longing to one of their contract growers and he had rescued it. It had since been grafted onto a number of vines and now they were going to make a commercial amount of wine from it – it was the next big thing. Unfortunately for Walter I have since heard several stories similar to this with different people in the role of the hero.

The entertainment at the barbecue was wonderful, several friends of Walters turned up, one of them with a guitar and we ate and danced till late before we were taken back to our beds at the agriturismo where we were staying. By this stage we had split into two group with one half staying at the agriturismo of Zamo & Zamo and the other at the agriturismo of Livio Felluga. (Walter has since left the wine industry)

The next morning we were on the road again with plans to see several wineries, there were only two days left and we had reached halfway. The first was Ronco delle Betulle where we met a nice woman who didn’t export her wines so basically she was of little interest to us. The next stop however proved to be very interesting especially for the men!

Castello Di Spessa

Castello di Spessa is a privately owned resort but 15 years ago they were still in the throes of organising it. The castle itself is large and quite beautiful, surrounded by wonderful gardens. We were met by a beautiful young lady called Patrizia, who we thought was married to the owner. Patrizia had on a simple white linen dress which is some light seemed to turn translucent so that her underwear could be seen. She had a beautiful figure as everybody could see and she had the males in the group lusting after her.

She showed us around the castle telling us what a wonderful time she had had redecorating the place, she had personally chosen every roll of Laura Ashley paper. She had done Laura Ashley no favours as she had chosen so many designs above and below the dado rails that it looked like some horrid psychedelic dream gone wrong. Thousands of tiny blossoms covered the walls in pale pinks and reds clashing with brown paintwork that looked as if it had come from a discount sale of end of colours. The only thing I could equate this to would be someone being violently ill.

Castello di Spessa does not have a winery on-site however they do have a property down the road a way called La Boatina. Patrizia was gracious in showing us ‘her’ winery.

We later discovered that the owner was going through a nasty divorce and Patrizia had met him at a party in Rome. He had taken a fancy to her (I wonder why?)and let her loose on the castle. She had become very proprietorial about the castle using ‘I’ a lot. However, the relationship wasn’t too last and Patrizia was soon back on the party circuit looking for someone new.

We also were soon back on the road, our next stop the winery of Girolamo Dorigo. This eccentric winemaker had a gruff manner and hated being questioned. However, there wasn’t much that he didn’t know about grapes and winemaking. We got a lesson that afternoon about density that was going against the grain on everything we thought we knew but Girolamo was before his time. He told us about things that are now common practice. No wonder he has been so successful in Italy.

Our next visit didn’t have anything to do with wine although we did go to a winery. This time we were going to a balsameria. Traditional balsamic can only be called traditional balsamic if it comes from a small zone around Modena in Emilia Romagna. There are only 46 makers of ‘balsamico tradizionale’ left and the product is extremely good although extremely expensive. There are however, many makers of balsamic vinegars around Italy and they produce an aged vinegar but quite often it is coloured with caramel and artificially aged and thickened. Azienda Midolini make a traditional balsamic but can’t call it traditional balsamic because of their location in Friuli.

A balsameria is a special space, the aroma is unbelievable. The vinegar sits maturing in casks of different sizes and woods: acacia, chestnut, juniper, cherry, oak, mulberry and ash. As the balsamic ages it evaporates and when the vinegar in one barrel evaporates enough the vinegar is poured into the next smaller barrel – it’s very similar to a solera system but with different sized barrels. Most of the balsamic tradizionale is aged for about 12 years +.

At Azienda Midolini the balsamic is called Asperum and it is described as a condiment balsamico. We were given bottles of it to bring home that were 22 years old, the vinegar inside was as thick as molasses and it was wonderful. Asperum was on sale at Simon Johnson at the time and sold for $300 for 100 mls.

After we had had the lesson about balsamic vinegar we then drove into town where we sat ‘al fresco’ for dinner at La Di Moret, one of the few good hotels in Udine. We hadn’t realised that the UEFA cup was on that night and at 10.30 the street erupted with a number of young men blowing horns and riding up and down on Vespas, the more the merrier it seemed. Udine had won. We were sat right in the middle of all the excitement because the hotel had got a large screen TV of the event. We went back to the agriturismo rather late and slept soundly.

Azienda Roberto Scubla

Next day we were to visit four wineries: Azienda Roberto Scubla, Azienda Collavini, Azienda Giovanni Dri and Azienda Le Vigne di Zamo. Roberto Scubla was a shy man and his winery was beautifully positioned for photography but we didn’t learn much about the winery. Collavini was great fun. Learning about how they decided to name the wines was interesting and gave longevity to their dogs – the dogs were named after grape varieties and then the dog was put on the label of the wine. My favourite was a little dog called Ribolla. He still features on their Ribolla Giallo wine today. Giovanni Dri was a surprise, totally modernist in design his wines were also very interesting. Although, his notes on the wines were very strange. Our last visit of the day was actually held at the winery where I was staying at the agriturismo, Azienda Le Vigne Di Zamo.

Owned by two brothers and their wives Zamo e Zamo as they were commonly known, had also hired a chef for the night. We started off with pasta the same as two nights ago. We all said how remarkable that the chef had chosen the same thing. We then had our main meal, surprise, surprise, it was guanciale again. We then had dessert and we all had a bet that it would be crostata. What a pity it wasn’t a lotto night because we would have won big time. The chef turned out to be the same chef who had cooked dinner two nights previously. You would think he would have checked, journalists didn’t visit the area every day of the week. The family were mortified but we all thought it was funny. Our adventure with food didn’t end there, we were to meet another chef the next day who far, far worse!

We left the agriturismo at nine am the next day to go to the Consorzio Colli Orientale in Cividale. We had a presentation from the publicity officer which our guide translated for us. It was quite handy that two of us other than the guide spoke Italian as the guide kept making mistakes. She had been with us all week and we hadn’t noticed her Italian wasn’t as good as it should be as everyone we had visited managed to speak to us in English.

From the Devil's Bridge

Julius Caesar

While we were there, we did a little exploring of Cividale. It is a pretty little town. At one end of the town you enter by way of a bridge. There is an old tale about the bridge falling down and the devil offering to fix it. All he asked for was the first live soul to cross the bridge. He waited and waited but none of the townspeople would cross until a little dog crossed the bridge. The devil had to take the little dog as the first live soul and he wasn’t very happy but he kept his word and the bridge stands today. It is called The Devils Bridge.

The Apothecary

Medieval House

Another couple of visits during the day and we went back to the agriturismo to clean up for dinner. This time we were to eat at the agriturismo of Livio Felluga. Livio had passed away some years previously and the winery was run by his children. His daughter Ella, who was extremely glamorous, was our host. We had some antipasto, which was really delicious and then we had rabbit. Unfortunately the chef, a great big hulking woman, hadn’t cleaned the rabbit before cooking it and then to add insult to injury she had cut it up with a meat cleaver. The rabbit smelt terrible from the organs that had been cooked inside. The meat had tiny slivers of bone all the way through it. We left it on the plates which was a pity because Ella wanted it to be perfect.

The next morning we made our way to Rome, a six hour drive and another trip was over. Roll on the next......

www.italiantraveller.com

A delightful time in Campania

2012-02-05T00:46:00.000-08:00

I’m on the road again, this time I am flying into Rome with KLM – Royal Dutch Airlines. It’s a pity they don’t fly into Australia anymore, they were great. By now I am a fully fledged long distance flyer moving between Australia and Italy so often that my friends ask me where I am when they call me on the mobile. I get invited to a lot of wine events in Italy as an Australian representative, I judge wine shows and go to tastings so regularly that I am seriously thinking of leaving my job and living in Italy. However, I realise that by doing that I will no longer be asked to all these events as they want someone from Australia not someone from Australia who now lives in Italy.

I land in Rome and have a day all to myself as the other journalists won’t be landing for 24 hours. It’s something I’ve learnt on my trips, always arrive and give yourself time to get your bearings. I don’t suffer from jetlag going to Italy but I do need a few hours sleep to make up for sleep missed on the plane. A couple of hours and I am ready to hit the road. Australia is a long way when most of the other journalists are coming from around Europe and only have a two hour trip.

I act as a tourist wandering around Rome seeing the sights and not really caring what I do. I walk for kilometres, sometimes backtracking over places I have already seen. I don’t have a map but it doesn’t matter as I have nowhere to go and no one to meet. I am on my own and loving it.

Around 2.00pm I decide to have lunch near Piazza Venezia and I enter a little trattoria. The waiter says he can’t serve me. It appears they don’t do ones, only twos and above – ‘ones’ don’t spend enough money! I begin to wonder whether I will get the same reception from everyone and hesitate several times at different establishments. It’s the first time in Italy that I have been refused entry anywhere. Finally I find a restaurant in a little alley, it’s crowded but I find a table and sit down. The waiter comes and brings me basket of bread and he speaks English. I ask if one person on their own is okay and he has no problem saying that the other restaurant was foolish to throw away the custom.

After lunch I walk until my feet and legs are so sore I have to go back to the hotel to rest. It’s about 6pm and people don’t eat until 8pm when I’m to meet my friend Marina so I go back and lie down. At 8.15 I am woken by the telephone, Marina is downstairs, am I ready? As much as I want to go back to sleep, I can’t. I won’t have much time with Marina as it is so I have a quick wash and rush downstairs. I get back to the hotel at about 1.30am and have to be ready to leave at 7am, so much for my getting there early and resting up before the trip!

I head back to the airport, this time in luxury as Marina has organised a car to pick me up. I have to wait until everybody lands and gets through customs – I drink so much espresso with our guide as we wait the three hours to assemble the group which arrives in dribs and drabs. Thank goodness the toilets aren’t far. The last person doesn’t get to have a cup of coffee as we are now running late.

This time we head south to Campania and several wineries making wine from ‘ancient’ varieties. Most of them you can only get in Campania. Our guide on this trip will take us to a number of wineries around the town of Avellino but first we stop in Mondragone, a small town in the province of Caserta and a couple of hours north west of Naples. We have to be there at a certain time because the winery is in the very heart of the town and there’s to be a festival that night. Streets will be blocked off and we will get stuck if we don’t leave by 3.pm.

When the winery was established in 1880, it was surrounded by countryside but slowly the town has built itself around the winery. Not only does this make life difficult for us but also for the winery.

Cantine di Moio is built on land that was once part of the nearby sea. At some stage the land under the sea rose up and now four metres below the earth, the land is rich in fossils. Going down into the cellar you can see the walls which have been dug into the earth are full of shells and fossilised sea creatures.

We are met by the lovely Michele Moio and his son Luigi. Luigi, who is a professor at Naples University speaks wonderful English, Michele unfortunately doesn’t but hand signals and gestures can sometimes say as much as words. He is excited to see us and is constantly saying ‘looka, looka’ one of the few words he knows.

After we have been through a tasting of his wines and looked at the many awards, some dating back to the 20s and 30s, we are asked to have lunch with them. ‘It’s only a snack but you must join us’. We sit in the yard and they bring out Burrata, tennis-ball sized pieces of white, white mozzarella that oozes cream when cut. They had been made locally that morning. This is my first experience with Burrata and one which I repeat as often as can. Olives, tomatoes and home-made bread were brought out and we were all given a never-ending glass of Falanghina. We could have been sitting at the best table in the world, the meal was so good.

It was sad to have to get up and go as we were enjoying ourselves so much but we knew that soon the streets would be closed and we had to make a move. We said our goodbyes and left just as the ‘municipio’ came with barricades, we got out just in the nick of time.

We headed for Avellino with full bellys and sleepy heads from the wine, some of us even had a little nap, dreaming I’m sure of the wonderful Burrata. Avellino was at least a two hour drive and we settled in, comfortable in the knowledge that if we missed dinner that night, no one really cared.

Because we had to leave the winery early, our guide told us that we would stop at Vietri for a few minutes on the way to Avellino. Vietri is a town famous for its ceramics - the only problem was we had to get through Naples first. If you think peak hour traffic is crazy here, you should see Naples! I think all drivers who manage to navigate their way through Naples deserve a medal.
Seatbelts had just become compulsory in Italy - but only in the front seat, presumably no one gets hurt in the back. We spotted a man wearing a t-shirt that had a printed seat belt on the front of it - he was waging his one man war against wearing any form of safety harness, but he wasn't the only one. Soon we found lots of people wearing them, it appeared that they didn't like the new law in Naples.

We soon left the highway and the scenery along the way was of small towns and secondary roads, nothing of any real interest. However, when we got to our hotel in Avellino it was in front of a funicular railway, one that rose up all the way to the Sanctuary of Montevergine some 1480 metres above sea level. The funicular (really a cable car) would take pilgrims up to the top and bring them back. You can drive up the mountain but you don’t get the views.

The cellar door at Terre di Paolo

We arrived at the hotel, Hotel De La Villa , and with no appointments ahead that night, we all went to our rooms, unpacked and then met downstairs to go sightseeing. Free time on these trips is rare and so whenever there’s a possibility of even half an hour, it’s taken. Looking at the area around you is just as important as trying the wines. As it turned out, there wasn’t much to see except a whole lot of buildings built in 50s and 60s – not old enough to be of interest and yet not modern either. We went back to the hotel and had dinner.

Next morning we headed out of town to Montefusco and to the Cantina Terre Di Paolo owned by Walter Mastroberadino, cousin of the famous Antonio Mastroberardino, the so-called archaeologist of wine. Walter and Antonio didn’t get on during that time and we were pre-warned not to mention Antonio’s name. I have no idea of the current situation but it seemed odd to be going to a winery and not mentioning the most influential person in the wine industry at the time.

We were shown around the winery by Luigi Mastroberardino, Walter’s son. Walter never made an appearance. The winery was fairly new, it was built at the end of a dirt road and it looked like a big yellow box. There was still a bit of work to do but I imagine it’s been done by now and probably looks spectacular.

Casa Dell'Orco - a fairytale

We left Montefusco and travelled a short distance to Pratola Serra, the home of Cantina Casa dell’Orco. Owned by exhuberant solicitor, Pellegrino Musto, the vineyards are full of vines and stories which with Pellegrino – you don’t know whether to believe him or not. It was the first time I tried Torte della Nonna which we ate with a glass of wine. The torte has been a firm favourite ever since.

The Di Meo winery

Vines at Cantine di Meo

From there we travelled to Salza Irpinia and met Roberto Di Meo. The winery, which is in the old hunting lodge of Caracciolo, Prince of Avellino, was established by his father and today is run by Roberto, his sister Erminia, and brother Generoso Di Meo. Roberto invited us in and offered us lunch in a rather rustic kitchen with a huge log fire. Homemade salami, home-cured olives, fresh tomatoes and cheese were brought out and we felt like relatives who had just dropped by we were so relaxed. Roberto took us out to the vineyards which were full of yellow flowers making the vineyards look very pretty in winter. Di Meo is famous for his Fiano di Avellino, which has a mild and toasty nutty flavour, and he makes several other indigenous varieties.

Too soon we had to leave as this had been one of the nicest visits so far but we had to go and see the most talked about winery of the region, the fairly new Feudi di San Gregorio. Everybody was talking about them, they were big news. They were expected to win a number of prizes at Vinitaly so we were anxious not to miss out.

Earlier in the day when we left the hotel, we had a new bus driver. He introduced himself as Luciano and he was very good ferrying us to all the different wineries and answering our questions as his English was quite good. He took us to Feudi and joined in taking us around. The winery wasn’t as complete as it is today so he explained all the work they were doing. After we had seen the winery it was decided that we would have the wines with our lunch (yes, a second lunch) at a local restaurant in Altripalda, a nearby town. The lunch was fantastic and the wines superb, I loved Serpico in particular. Luciano had lunch with us and we thought how nice it was as the drivers don’t normally eat with us.

During lunch we had all decided to put a collection together as Luciano had done a sterling job and in Italy it is customary on these sorts of trips to tip the driver. Most drivers really appreciated it because they aren’t exactly well paid. Luciano was very knowledgeable about all the wineries and this was exceptionally helpful. We were finishing lunch when he said ‘how did you like my winery?’. We asked him had we gone past it or something because he would surely know whether we had seen it. He answered, ‘You’ve just been there and you’ve already forgotten. Feudi di San Gregorio, I own it with my brothers’.

We all burst out laughing because we were going to give him a tip when he could probably pay for our flights home from his pocket change. When we explained why we were laughing he accepted our mistake, he thought we had all been told who he was. Luciano then drove us back to the hotel.

Next: A chef makes a mistake and we enjoy ourselves in Friuli

A typical cake from Campania. Make sure cake cools completely before serving.

Torta Caprese

· 300 gm chopped Almonds

· 200 gm chopped cooking chocolate

· 200 gm butter

· 200 gm sugar

· 6 eggs

· 1 ½ level tspns baking powder

· 2 tbspn liqueur (a flavour that will go with chocolate)

· Icing sugar to dust cake

1. Chop butter into small pieces and cream with sugar.

2. Beat the eggs separately and add slowly to the butter cream

3. Add almonds, chocolate, then baking powder and finally the liqueur

4. Pour mix into a 28cm spring form cake tin and bake for 50 minutes at 180 degrees.

5. Let the cake cool on a wire rack and dredge with icing sugar

Oltrepo Pavese - Trouble is following us.

2012-01-28T16:55:00.000-08:00

(Oltrepo Pavese is a small zone in the southern part of Lombardy. It is very agricultural.)

The Frecciarossa Estate

We arrived in Oltrepo Pavese without incident and we checked into the Hotel Italia, in the small town of Stradella. Because of the unusual way Italians rank hotels, this was a purported to be a four star – it would barely make three star anywhere else. Totally bland and uninteresting, it’s not the type of hotel that you would recommend to anybody. It was clean but also small and dark with limited street appeal. The lobby was small and furnished with old fashioned lounge chairs and cluttered with lots of dried flower arrangements and nic nacs.Their bedrooms however, were clean and passable.

Our first appointment was at the local ‘Universita’ for a tasting with Marco Sabellico, a wine journalist with Gambero Rosso. In those days Marco was just starting out and had been at Italy’s most important wine magazine for a couple of years.

We turned up at the University in extreme heat, it must have been 100 degrees outside. The room where the tasting was being held had no air-conditioning and very few windows. Marco began his tasting of local wines and spoke knowledgeably about the area and grape varieties. He found his confidence as we all began to perspire. Slowly people began to leave the room, some even hopping out of the low windows. It was like an oven. Marco just kept on going and going, who knew that there were so any things to say about Oltrepo. As special guests we had to sit it out. Finally when the heat became intolerable and we were all parched as if we had been on a trek in the dessert, we got up and left. We never got to hear the end of his presentation but I doubt that we could have concentrated on it anyway.

Marco Sabellico

We went back to the hotel, most of us had showers to cool us down and then we went outside to a bar where we drank beer and spritzers until it was time to get changed for dinner. What had been a difficult afternoon turned out to be one of the best days of our trip.

One of the group had elected to have a sleep instead of coming out for drinks. He had slept for several hours by the time we had all gathered in the lobby waiting to go out. I won’t mention Bill’s surname suffice to say he is one of the nicest guys.

We gathered in the lobby and realised that Bill wasn’t with us. Someone went up to his room and called him, he was still asleep, probably jet lagged as he had arrived late. He said it would just take a minute to get ready. As he promised he came downstairs soon after. However, he looked a complete mess, his curly hair needed a cut and hadn’t been combed so it he looked like ‘Little Orphan Annie’, he wore a pair of old jeans and a crumpled t-shirt and the outfit was completed by sandals.

We explained that we were going to a rather swish sort of place and didn’t he think he should change. “Oh, yes, maybe I should”. He went back up stairs and was down again immediately. He had exchanged the crumpled t-shirt for a crumpled denim shirt but apart from that nothing else had changed and we left the hotel in fits of giggles. This was Bill’s version of formal attire.

Le Fracce

The next day we visited Le Fracce, a winery that was once owned by a relation of the famous Branca family. Fratelli Branca are famous because of their famous digestive Fernet Branca. We were told the winery was now owned by an institute but it was all very hush hush and we were never told what the institute was. It had beautifully landscaped gardens with a number of statues artfully placed but we didn’t try any wines and we never got to the bottom of the story. It was a very odd visit.
Following our visit to Le Fracce, we headed to a smaller winery where we would have a tasting and they would put on a home-cooked lunch for us. Once again I won’t mention the name as the visit ended up as a battle field with us, seven journalists, in the firing line.

What started as a very pleasant visit with the owner of the winery turned out to be rather nerve-wracking. The young man showed us around the winery which was particularly old but he was trying to rebuild and renovate with modern equipment. It was obvious that he was certain he could make it into the dream winery he wanted. He had finished winemaking school and had come back to the family farm. His father had tried winemaking in his youth and had given up as he couldn’t make it work, he never found it worth the effort. However the son had asked him if he could take over the winery and he said yes.

The son came back at a time when the Italian wine industry was going through a boom period with new technology and ideas, these he took on board and surprisingly the winery had started to make reasonable wines that were selling well within Lombardy – or at least in Oltrepo.

What we didn’t know was that the old man was extremely jealous of his son’s success. While we were having lunch and talking to the son, the old man kept on interrupting and saying it was his winery and the son shouldn’t forget that. He knew how to make wine and it wasn’t that difficult. We were in the middle of the two men as we tried to keep things below boiling point and it was obvious the old man thought he could take the son on in a fight and win. The mother could see the old man getting upset and tried to placate him with plates of different foods she had prepared for lunch.

All of a sudden the table erupted and it was on for young and old. Food and plates went flying while we hopped out the back door very quickly. In a surreal moment, the mother thanked us for coming as if this was all normal. We quickly got back into our mini bus and waved goodbye and sped off down the driveway.

I don’t know why but trouble seemed to be following us no matter where we went. Was it us?

Part of the Certosa of Pavia - The Cloisters, a magnificent Abbey in the area worth visiting

Thank goodness our next visit was to Frecciarossa where normality reigned. I am very fortunate because I have been able to maintain my relationship with the family Odero for many years and each time I see them it’s as if I haven’t been away.

Frecciarossa means Red Arrow. It was so named by Margarite Odero’s grandfather who established the winery before WW1. It was passed on his death to Margarite’s father, Giorgio and now she runs the business. She is well inot her 70s but you wouldn’t know it, she is so energetic I can’t see the business moving to her daughter yet.

The magnificent villa at Frecciarossa

Frecciarossa produces a number of wines, one of the most unusual is a pinot noir fermented as a white wine. They also produce Sillery (named after a race horse) and Le Praielle, their most popular and well know throughout Italy.
The winery and Villa are surrounded by vineyards and farmland, it is truly a little piece of visual beauty. When I have stayed at the Villla, I have slept in a room at the top of the house with sweeping views of the countryside.

Although by this stage we expected trouble, after all it had been following us, but a visit to Frecciarossa was cool and calm and probably just what we needed.

After leaving Frecciarossa it was still early enough for us to catch the Soccer world cup on TV. We were invited to watch it on a ‘big screen TV’ at the villa of Vercesi dei Castellazzo. The Vercesi family were very nice and allowed us the use of their big lounge room and TV. Obviously they don’t watch much TV because large to them meant portable TV to us. We had to sit rather close to it to recognise any of the players. But we were in Italy, in a villa above a village named for the family and we were fed and watered very well. I don’t think any of us will forget that day when we were lords and lady of the manor!

I have included a recipe for Malfatti, a traditional recipe of Lombardy. We were served this dish several times, each time slightly different from the last. These little dumplings are also made in Tuscany where they are known as Gnudi – both claim to have invented them.

Malfatti.

This is one of Italy’s oldest recipes first mentioned in the 1300’s. Originally a plain meal eaten by the poor, it has been changed over time to become quite sophisticated with the addition of ricotta, spinach and parmigiana.

Makes enough for 4

1 lge bunch         spinach or Swiss chard (or 1 packet of frozen spinach with the water squeezed out)
250 gm                ricotta cheese
125 gm                Parmigiana, finely grated
1                           egg
200 gm                plain four
                             salt and pepper to taste
½ tspn                 nutmeg

1. Boil the spinach, drain and dry with paper towel so that there is no excess water. Chop finely.

2.          Mix all the ingredients together.
3.          When all ingredients are combined well take teaspoon-sized bits of dough and roll them into balls. To make it easier to ball the dough, wet your hands. Make sure the balls are small and tight because if they are loosely packed they will come apart when boiled.
4.          Have a saucepan of water boiling on the stove and place the balls, a few at a time, in the water. When they come back to the top they are cooked. Take them out and replace them with more. The cooked malfatti can now be added to sauce or butter and sage.

Do Not handle the malfatti too much or they will fall apart. When adding them to the sauce

(tomato or gorgonzola) drop them in gently. If using butter and sage, roll them over gently to coat

them. If you want to, you can bake them in the oven covered in sauce.

Frecciarossa Wine notes :

Sillery - Harvested by hand and gathered in small crates to prevent damage. Grape selection is done by vine and by vineyard according to the ripening. Made from 100%Pinot Noir.
Fruity, richly intense, long lasting with hints of white flowers, citrus and balsamic notes.

Giorgio Odero - The grapes are harvested by hand in small crates to prevent damage. They are picked with a careful grape selection so that only the best grapes are used. The wine is warm, intense and very well balanced, very elegant with a long lasting fruity flavour and good ripe tannins.

Giorgio Odero is considered by Gambero Rosso, Italy's leading wine and food magazine one of the best Italian Pinot Nero and has been awarded the top award of 3 bicchieri twice.

Flying into trouble

2012-01-24T15:39:00.000-08:00

Flying into trouble

The Collosseum in Rome

Back in the 90s, before I found Emirates (lovely airline, recommend them to anyone), Alitalia still flew to Australia. I had been on Alitalia planes within Italy and I thought I would try them internationally. It was my one and only flight.

Smoking had been banned at this stage by most airlines but it was still allowed on Alitalia. I booked a non-smoking seat, not worried about how they separated non-smoking from smoking. I figured they would put all the smokers in a separate section, how, I wasn’t sure.

I boarded the flight and discovered that they had made the last four rows smoking, of course, I was in the fifth row from the back and might as well have been in one of those smoking rooms you see at Asian airports where people desperate for a smoke are puffing for all their life is worth. We had a cloud of smoke above our heads and a cacophony of coughing for most of the flight.

I was seated next to a girl from British Airways and an elderly lady from Calabria on her first trip home for 40 years. We started a conversation and apart from the smoke we had a pleasant first leg of the flight.

When we arrived in Bangkok we had the normal turn around as people left the flight and people got on. I lost my companion from BA as she was catching a connecting flight to the UK. A man got on to take her place and we took off. Conversation had slowed as we were getting tired and basically run out of conversation.

A young lady in the same row but across the aisle, who was still in holiday mode – she was wearing very little and what she was wearing was more suited to the beach – got up to have a cigarette. She went to the back of the plane (a whole three metres!) and joined a group of young Italian men who had got on in Bangkok. She stayed with them for about 20 minutes but they must have said something she didn’t like as she came and sat down again. One of the young men followed her and tried to convince her to rejoin the group. Unfortunately he was holding a cigarette and found it necessary to hold on to my seat. His cigarette kept dancing in front of my face as he puffed away and then relaxed. His hand was pulling my hair every time he held on to the seat again. I complained but he was concentrating on the girl. He kept looking around and saying sorry and then the cigarette and hand would come back. The flight attendants were no where in sight so I was stuck. He finally got the message and removed himself to the rear of the plane and I thought, great, we will have some peace now.

But I was wrong, the fun had only just begun!

There were six or seven guys standing at the rear of the plane and they were all drinking. They had boarded in Bangkok and must have been well on the way to being drunk there. The flight attendant kept bring them two and three drinks at a time (illegal but this was Alitalia) and then disappearing to have a cigarette himself presumably.

They got through all the beer and then all the scotch on board, finally draining the drinks pool to gin and coca cola (yuk!), they got rowdy and stated moving around the back of the plane. The little old lady sitting next to me started getting nervous and several other people started complaining to the group as well. Me, being a busybody, went to the galley and asked the flight attendant to have a word with them and to stop bringing them alcohol because they had obviously had too much. I was told that he was serving them alcohol in the hope that they would soon fall asleep and not to worry.

I got back to my seat just in time to see the ringleader trying to open the back door of the plane. I am presuming that he was so drunk that he didn’t know what he was doing because no one in their right mind would try and get some fresh air that way. I have found out since from a friend who is a Qantas pilot, that it is impossible to open the doors mid-flight.

A number of people saw this and we all pressed the buzzer for the flight attendant. The ceiling lit up with little red lights as we were all very nervous by this stage. The flight attendant came back to see what was wrong and managed to get most of the group to sit down. They managed to stay in their seats for about five minutes, just long enough for the flight attendant to disappear...again!

The rowdy behaviour started again and an older female flight attendant (about 50 – Alitalia aren’t ageist, it’s their only good point) came down the back and yelled at them. This seemed to have a settling effect, rather like mum screaming at you. Again they sat down. They did fall asleep or kept quiet for about 20 minutes. The rest of the passengers at the back of the plane, who seemed to have been forgotten by the rest of the flight staff, finally had some peace. It didn’t last long.

Sure enough they woke up and started get active again. This time the poor old toilets at the back of the plane caught their attention. They started to rip out the paper holders and spray the soap around making an awful mess. Toilet paper was thrown as they seemed to relish this new game.

This time everybody started yelling for the flight attendant and he came quickly. He realised he would not be able to control this on his own so he called for reinforcements. We presume they were from the flight deck because they were in full uniform including caps but several men came and restrained the ringleader and one other male and put them in their seats and handcuffed them to the arms. The others got a stern warning and were told to sit down in no uncertain terms. All of this was going on in Italian so heaven help the passengers who didn’t understand.

The journey continued and soon we were landing at Rome airport. We landed and taxied to a spot, miles away it seemed, from the terminal. Soon buses appeared and we all disembarked and got on. However, the buses didn’t leave and we stayed there for about ten minutes, all crowded together, hot and sleep deprived. We wondered what was going on, we didn’t have to wait for long. Soon we heard police sirens racing to the plane. The police ran up the stairs of the plane and about five minutes later came down with the two handcuffed passengers and the other four young men. The staff on board had prevented them from disembarking. The passengers from the rear of the flight had all got on the one bus and we let out an enormous roar as they were placed in police cars and then swiftly driven off. My only regret was not being there when they went to court and telling them how terrified people actually were.

I had a flight to catch for Linate ( Milan’s second airport) so I hurried through the airport to the domestic terminal. I had about 50 minutes to wait but was dreading another flight on Alitalia. I knew it couldn’t be as bad as the flight I had just got off but I had already decided I would never fly with them again – when and if I got home.

The Duomo in Milan

After an uneventful flight I arrived at Linate and after finding the rest of the group, travelled to our hotel in Oltrepo Pavese.

Next: A family argument and beautiful villas.

Adventures in Trentino

2012-01-16T23:43:00.000-08:00

Trip to Trentino Part 2

As we started our little trip around the city of Bolzano, me in my polo neck jumpers in paradoxically Italy’s summer hot spot. (You have to go to Siciliy to find warmer weather in summer). Tempers simmered below the surface for Aaron and Alex and they sat as far away from each other as they could on the bus.

This was a pity because I got on with both men and it was a genuine mistake on Alex’s behalf but Aaron didn’t see it like that – maybe if someone else and not a German, there wouldn’t been as much bad feeling.

An alpine road bordered with vineyards

Our visit to Trentino included visits to Viticoldori Caldaro, Cantina Produttori Cortaccia,Kastelaz Elena Walch, Josef Niedermayer, Hofstatter, Cantina Produttori San Michel Appiano, Produttori Colterenzio, Cason Hirschprunn, Cantina Vini Peter Zemmer and Alois Lageder. As you can see from the list, not a lot of help for me because only one brand was available in Australia at that time and my employer wanted me to do a write up of my trip.

Viticaldora Caldora

The only thing about Viticoldori Caldoro (Kallerei Kaltern) that I remember was Lagrein, a rustic red wine that grows prolifically in the area due to the hot summer temperatures that I was sweating through. At that time the grapes were trellised using the pergola system which was very pretty but these days nearly all vineyards have been swapped over the guyot, a more modern style. There are approximately 350 hectares of Lagrein grown around Bolzano.

I believe you can now buy one or two brands of Lagrein in Australia, is very dark in colour yet it is unsettling because the palate doesn’t live up to the expectations of your eyes. It is a light wine with aromas of raspberries and plums and is slightly spicy with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg. It is strangely a good food wine.

Elena Walch Barrel

Lago Caldaro

Next came Elena Walch, where we met the lovely Elena and her husband. We saw their vineyards rising nearly vertically behind the winery and we were taken on a little excursion to Lago Caldaro, a beautiful wetland and filled with popular holiday resorts. On returning to the winery, we were taken on one of the first of many interminable barrel stores. If you want to bore a wine journo quickly, take them on the tour and see how quickly they switch off. Their eyes glaze over and they start to lose concentration. But if you definitely want to kill the moment, follow the barrel store with a bottling line. A bottling line is a bottling line, they all do the same thing but because the winery has outlaid so much money they want to show you – believe me they all work in the same way!

Elena Walch’s barrel store was nice one, it had several large carved and painted botte (large barrels) at the entrance. It had been there for many generations so for once it wasn’t the same boring tour, at least the beginning wasn’t. Of course, as it was my first trip I was still excited about everything and barrel stores and bottling lines still enthralled me.

Our little bus took us to our next destination up mountain trails and along roads where we had magnificent views and you really do feel as if you are on the top of the world.

Neidemeyer

We travelled to Neidermayr for which I cannot remember a thing and then Hofstatter where we met the most arrogant and unpleasant young man. I won’t mention his name. This young man, supposedly the owner, whether it was an act or he was just immature showed us around the winery and the house on the property all the time with a superior attitude of look what I have and you don’t. I hope he has become a lot more humble these days.

Later we saw San Michele Appiano (very nice but nothing to report) and Colterenzio, which was located in the most perfect alpine setting. Colterenzio was where we really noticed the confusion of having two different names in two languages, Colterenzio was also known as Shreckbicle (German) Both names were up on the wall outside and we asked what the Shreckbicle meant and we were told by the director that it was the real name of the winery – he was German.

Colterenzio - Shrekbicle

All the other wineries have disappeared from my memory except for Alois Lageder and the town of Magré.

The town of Magre

Alois Lageder is an unusual person. He is very affable and gentle and he think before he does anything to make sure he doesn’t affect the environment. His winery is built on the side of a hil so that the rock it stands on keeps it cool. The winery is constructed in such a way that the wine always travels down using gravity instead of motors. It uses a motor only once when it is pumped up to be bottled. The winery is made of wood and uses wooden nails and non toxic natural glues, the windows are louvered in a certain way so that the offices in the winery do not need air conditioning. It is the most amazing winery.

In the vineyards he grows grapes bio-dynamically, he puts cows horns full of sulphur in the corner of each vineyard and has work done in the vineyard by the phases of the moon. He also uses the Kaballah to name the various vineyards – the Kaballah uses no vowels so he has some weird names – he adds vowels if the letters need it.

Alois Lageder

But, it must work as he has delicious wines.

After the visit to the winery, he walked us back to his house through the town of Magre. It was quite strange, most people knew him and treated him like royalty, men took their hats off and women bowed their heads.

We went back to his house where we found out his wife was a ballerina (what else could she be, she’d have to be in the arts field somewhere) and that he had organised for one of the best chefs from Switzerland to cook dinner for us. Being only a few kilometres from the border, the chef had driven down that day and spent all day preparing a wonderful feast for us and had also matched the wines with a variety of recipes which were given to us. Conversation at the table saw me ask Alois a straight question. All the guys knew where I was going and tried to stop me but they wanted to know as much as I did. I asked him if he was worried that some people would think he was whacko with all this mumbo jumbo. His reply was that it didn’t matter what other people thought and that he had to be happy in his own mind.

We had a wonderful night, one which I will never forget because our host was so generous with his time, the meal was superb and he didn’t mind me asking him if he was whacko!

I have had emails and Christmas Cards from him since so at least I know there are no hard feelings from my terrible faux pas many years ago.

Next Installment: An interesting flight then Oltrepo Pavese

Trip to Trentino

2012-01-10T21:46:00.000-08:00

Trip to Trentino

My next trip came about by a fortuitous meeting while waiting in the rain for a taxi in Verona. One day after the fair I was with two importers and we were trying to catch a taxi back to our hotel. It was bucketing down and the queue was rather long. We started talking to a young girl in the queue ahead of us. She was from California and worked for a woman who had a PR company in Rome. The woman had an idea of doing press trips around Italy and would I be interested. Of course I had to say yes, wouldn’t you? Since then I have been to Italy many times on one of Marina’s trips or under my own steam and we have become firm friends. These days, more often than not, I go for other reasons but no matter when I go to Italy I always try to fit in a visit to Rome to visit Marina.

The mountains rise up above vineyards

I arrived at Milan airport ready to travel up to Trentino Alto Adige, a region known for its beauty and rugged landscape. I was so excited. I met the others in my group, journalists from all over the world: a couple of guys from the USA, a German who had lived in Canada for many years, a Frenchman, an Englishman, a Dutchman. Each of them with a different personality and this was the time when I learnt that not all personalities travel well together.

I spent all of my teen years growing up in Australia and the chance to see real mountains were few and far between. A trip to the Snowy Mountains doesn’t compete with the magnificence of the Dolomites. Towering above the road with the added charm of old stone churches built hundreds of feet up just doesn’t compare. Australia has many beautiful sights but the mountains now look like big hills when put next to these big boys.

A house amongst the vineyards

On the way from Milan to Bolzano we found out about the region from our driver, a young Italian guy who lived in Bolzano and who was extremely open. He told us that in the area in which he lived (Bolzano) they spoke three languages: Italian, German and Ladin – a local language. This was because the Austrians felt more of an alliance with Austria and wanted the Sud-Tirol ( the name of the area as far as the Austrians were concerned) to become part of Austria again - after all it only became part of Italy in 1919.

The Italians were very relaxed about it because it was part of Italy and they felt it was their natural right to be there. So the Sud -Tyroleans speak German and the people of Trentino speak Italian with some cross over. In a number of provinces on both sides Ladin is the official language.

You really notice this problem because everywhere you go, the street signs are in both languages and most companies have two names, it is very confusing.

Castle Toblino on Lago di Garda

It took us about five hours on the bus to get to our destination but getting there was half the fun. The mountains appeared to be so tall (about 3000+ metres) and for part of the trip we drove through a valley carved out by a prehistoric glacier, the road was so flat but the area was only a few hundred metres wide. The landscape remained the same until we reached the upper end of the Adige river and we found ourselves in Alto Adige (High Adige). The it softened, we left the mountains behind and we passed through Bolzano. Fortunately I have since learnt that Bolzano is a beautiful city, back then we were only driven through the industrial sector.

We finally got to our destination, the Hotel Rungghof. It was a lovely hotel, a large building built in the fashion of houses in the area but larger. It was built near the top of the hill and the views were spectacular – on a clear day. When I learnt we were going to the alps I went prepared, turtle necks and thick jumpers, trousers and boots. It was 33 degrees celcius and they had a swimming pool – which everybody was able to take advantage of except me! I learnt to research all my trips after that.

The beginning of the private road leading to Hotel Rungghop

We were invited by the wife of the owner to come and have a snack after we had checked in. She said we must be tired and hungry and she would put out a buffet for us. We all went up to our rooms and freshened up and then came down to the buffet – after all we had missed lunch and wouldn’t be eating until 9pm.

I came downstairs and our German companion came down before me. There was a spread of cold meats, cheese, bread, all sort of accompaniments, it looked delightful. However, Alex the German, who had sussed out one of our companion’s, Aaron, a guy from the USA was Jewish, got very upset. He demanded that they take away all the salami because Aaron couldn’t eat it. He thought he was doing the right thing but Aaron didn’t see it that way. He had just entered the room when Alex was making the request. Aaron got very hot under the collar and told them to leave it, he would eat it. Alex then said he couldn’t eat it because he was Jewish and it kicked off. It seemed that WW3 had started!

Moving on to Vinitaly

2012-01-04T16:14:00.000-08:00

Vinitaly here we come but first...

In my last post we had arrived in Sirmione ready to get to work at Vinitaly. I was writing for a national liquor magazine for the trade at the time and I was going to do a three or four page report. I ended up writing 12 pages. What I expected and what I finally saw were at opposite ends of the spectrum. I defy anyone to come back from Vinitaly for the first time and not be impressed, but before we get to Vinitaly I want to mention a little bit about Sirmione.

Sirmione

Sirmione is a town on the shores of Lake Garda, the largest lake in Italy and I also think in Europe – though I could be wrong about that. It is a really popular place because it has something for everyone: water sports, Gardaland for kids (though this isn’t really in Sirmione but in another town down the road), restaurants, thermal spas, accommodation of all types, tourist attractions and historical sites – it’s also 40 minutes away from the romantic city of Verona. During the season several outdoor musical spectaculars are held in the outdoor are close to the lake. It is an ideal place to go for a holiday due to its proximity to several others towns and it’s in a wine making area for those who love a drop of vino.

Sirmione is a town of thermal spas so for quite a large part of the year there is a smell of sulphur. Thermal spas reached their peak in the 1960s with a number of holiday towns reaching capacity. These extend down to Tuscany where a number of places have literally hundreds of hotels which are now being turned into apartments as the popularity for sulphur baths wanes.

We stayed at the Albergo Sirmione, one side of which is right next to the water. I had a lovely room on the lake side and each evening I could watch the swans as the floated close to shore looking for food in amongst the rushes. It was extremely peaceful.

When we arrived at the hotel I decided to get some laundry done as I would be there another seven days. Ed McCarthy, a well-known wine journalist in the USA was in the next room. He asked that when they came to pick mine up could they call on him and get his as well.

The housemaid duly came and took mine while Ed had decided to take a shower. The housemaid knocked on his door and he quickly wrapped himself in a towel and handed her the bag and said wash and iron.

The next day when the bag came back they had washed and ironed everything –his underpants and socks included for which he received an enormous bill. He expected them to wash and then iron the things that required ironing. Of course, being a hotel and willing to charge for everything, they took the opportunity and ironed everything. Ed is now much more careful about sending his laundry out.

Villa Giusti, Verona

Vinitaly

ICE had put on a coach for us everyday which took us directly to the event. It took about an hour each morning because of the traffic but it did allow time for sightseeing out of the coach’s windows each day.

We would arrive at the gates to the exhibition centre and wait at the gates until we were let in. It was like going to a concert or football match, there were thousands of people all wanting to get in the turnstiles first, pushing and shoving and then finally popping out the other side. The exhibition was made up of about 8 padiglione (Pavilions) – it has grown over time and now covers an area of 95,000 sq metres, it has over 4000 exhibitors and receives more than 150,000 visitors.

I was very fortunate as I had planned to accompany two Italian-born importers around the fair. What a wonderful time we had, each day we would have appointments to meet their clients and each night we would be taken out for dinner to different places and then driven home to Sirmione.

It was exhausting but fun and I learnt a lot about Italian wine. I made friends on that trip who I still regard as friends today, I often visit them when I am in Italy.

One importer in particular brought in some big names whereas the other had an assortment including some bargain basement lines but it didn’t matter where we went we were treated as old friends.

The largest Mortadella I have ever seen

We saw people in medieval costumes wandering around the fair, the largest Mortadella you have ever seen, minstrels and other strolling musicians. Lunchtime the food outlets were crowded with thousands of people trying to get served and the way the Italians have the Cassa – where you order and pay – and then go on to the serving people making you line up twice, make it doubly annoying.

People in Medieval costume

The toilets were another bone of contention, being in the media meant I could use the bathrooms in the press office but my companions would have to line up and we would waste about half an hour a day while they went to the loo.

Wandering Minstrels

I didn’t take as many photos as I should have and the whole thing is now a distant memory but it was the birth of my love of travelling around Italy.

Sampling wine

Heading to Umbria

2011-12-31T14:09:00.000-08:00

Leaving Montespertoli with no regrets the next day, we headed further south to Montefalco in Umbria, a town that was starting to build a name for itself with a local wine called Sagrantino. We were looking forward to the visit as this was an exciting old wine that had recently been 'discovered' and we were to visit the company mostly responsible for introducing it to the market – Arnaldo Caprai.

Arnaldo Caprai was a name well known in the silk industry. They manufactured predominantly silk ties and other silk items. Arnaldo had started the winery many years ago as a hobby and it had now passed down to his son, who I must admit was doing a very good job.

Marco Caprai

The winery was very interesting, there was an experimental vineyard where they trialled all sorts of training methods for the vines and had rows of many different grape varieties, a wonderful tasting of their range of wines and when we had finished, a visit to the barrel store underground.

We walked around the vineyard and learnt about different clones and what grows well where, we had the tasting – lots of different vintages and various experimental blends and finally we were to see the barrel store underground. Great.

Young vineyards

Acres of vines

One of our group, a gentleman well known in the wine industry, had a problem walking around. He used a stick to assist him when he walked around and said he would stay upstairs while we saw the cellars, he would be too much trouble. A very generous act by a kindly old man or was it?

We looked around the cellars for about 15 minutes and came back up stairs. We noticed there wasn’t a skerrick of wine left in any of the glasses or bottles, someone had gone round and emptied every glass, we thought of the obvious – the staff had been around and cleaned up but why leave the empty glasses? Apparently they hadn’t as we soon realised, ‘John’ had helped himself to the leftover wine in the bottles and glasses and was fast asleep all on his own. We discovered later that he was an old soak. (I have since seen him several times and he has given up drinking and he's actually a nice guy).

We continued our magical mystery tour the next day. ICE (Instituto Commerciale Estero) had promised us a truffle hunt unfortunately they hadn’t confirmed with the owners of the company that it would take place. Apparently it was the wrong time of year for truffles and instead the company, Urbani Truffles, had organised a lunch for us. This five course extravaganza was a fantastic feast of dishes all made with aromatic truffles, each plate more delicious than the last – even the dessert was truffled gelato with 'fruita delle bosco' (fruit of the forest). None of us missed the truffle hunt or complained about the hospitality and it is a meal I will always remember because of the generosity of the people involved and the food.

That night was to be our last in Umbria and we had been invited to a dinner starring Italy’s famous Castellucio Lentils. The dinner, which was attended by the Italian Minister for Agriculture and other big wigs, was to be prepared by a world famous chef (who nobody had ever heard of) and like the truffle dinner, every course would contain lentils. I felt sorry for the chef having to come up with five different dishes with this pulse which is really quite boring.

He succeeded for the first three dishes but faded quickly on the fourth, but his dishes were not the only thing creating excitement.

We had a female journalist from Phoenix, Arizona on the trip. She had never travelled before and we had to stop the coach every couple of hours because she got car-sick. Dressed like Holly Hobby, the cartoon character, in her denim dresses and flat shoes and big straw hat, she had been the target of jokes the whole way through. She seemed to ask silly questions at inappropriate times and she was a real ‘innocent-at-large’.

Her column in a regional Tuscon paper was used as a filler and we wondered why she had been invited as there were a lot of better-value journalists who have jumped at the opportunity to fill her place. She had never left the state of Arizona before so this was a really big adventure for her.

But let me set the scene: The dinner was held at a large restaurant with a large outside area where we were served cocktails. We were sat in several groups, my group contained six men, our friend from Arzona and myself. At some stage during the meal my friend got up to go to the bathroom. In Italy there are some older places where the bathrooms serve both males and females and in this instant this was the case. It was quite large with eight cubicles and a large area with vanity units but both men and women used the toilets.

One of our colleagues in the group, a lecherous Frenchman who had been sitting at another table, was already in there washing his hands when she entered. He started to speak to her in French and to be polite, she kept nodding and smiling, unclear of what he was saying. She claimed that the next thing she knew he was all over her kissing and pawing her. She ran out of the bathroom and straight back to the table. She looked awful and her hair was in disarray when she sat down and I asked her ‘what happened'? She started telling me when she realised that all the men at the table were listening as well. She stopped and told me she would tell me when we got back to the hotel. She sat through the rest of the meal in complete silence. It must have been a big, big shock. That night when we finally arrived at the hotel in Sirmione (near Verona) we went to bed while she called her husband in the USA. The next morning she was on a flight home where she believed she would be safe. I’ve often thought of her and wondered what is she doing now, I guarantee she has never left home again.

Next post: More about Sirmione and we go to Vinitaly

Exploring Montespertoli

2011-12-30T12:55:00.000-08:00

Exploring Montespertoli

The second day of ‘exploring’ Montespertoli saw us visit several places that weren’t what they seemed. We were to be taken to an alternative meat farm, hmmm...? And what did this matter to a bunch of wine journalists and what is alternative meat anyway?

We ended up at the alternative meat farm and found someone training a horse, making him run around on a rope in circles. We all got of the bus and were taken to a shed containing a large cool-room that contained frozen venison. I’m sure it would have been interesting had we been butchers but all it did was leave us feeling cold. We also visited a station for mountain rangers where we were given a talk on the surrounding area and some literature - the only problem was that most of the group being foreigners spoke and read English but both were provided in Italian only.

A typical ruin in the countryside, this one is set amongts olive groves

We had been invited by a winery for a barbecue but being on a big coach and the road to the winery being very hilly and full of rubble, the coach couldn’t make it up the hill. There were various discussions on how we could get up the hill – we could have walked. There was also talk of getting a small school bus but it would have taken too long to organise. Finally after about an hour the barbecue was brought down to the bottom of the hill and we had celebrations there on the side of the road. We never got to see the winery but the owners fed us very well.

However, not everything went wrong, we did go to a wonderful place called Castello di Montegufoni where we spent the afternoon looking around. We learnt that the castle can be rented for holidays – all or part, it contains many, many apartments – and is in an easily accessible area of Chianti. At last it seemed we were getting somewhere, things were looking up.

Famous last words.

That night we were invited to dinner at a holiday villa which holds events all year round. Once again it was up a hill and the large coach couldn’t make it so this time we were put on one of the smaller local buses used for taking young children – and I mean very young, to school. It was amusing to see grown up men on the small seats. The bus had been orgnised after the lunchtime debacle of the barbecue. The food was enjoyable and the unplanned entertainment hysterical. The ‘major’ turned up with two local beauties, one on each arm, who were quickly named the majorettes. A good time was had by all, especially one German gentleman in particular who had slightly more to drink than he should have.

A house being restored for possible use as an agriturismo

When it was time to go and we had all settled back in the bus, we all felt very relaxed and happy to be going home to our beds. The German gentleman (a very loose term for this person) had to be helped onto the bus and poured onto the back seat as he was so drunk. We all thought he was asleep as we chatted until suddenly he got up and started attacking Gilda, the guide, for no reason. He started slapping and punching her, fortunately his aim was off as he was so drunk but it was a big shock to Gilda (who has since given up translating at Vinitaly and now works for Zenato Wines). Everybody started screaming and several men tried to pull him off the guide as all hell broke loose. For a tall skinny man he had tremendous strength and he was finally subdued by three men who managed to sit on him until we finally got back to town and the place where he was staying. I never saw him again and I can only surmise that he was taken away in the night and never invited back.

The trip was finally getting interesting!

Next post: Heading to Umbria

Filling in time around Tuscany

2011-12-28T23:50:00.000-08:00

Filling in time around Tuscany

The morning after the judging finished we boarded a coach, or Pullman as they known in Italy. There were only 33 of us, I don’t know where the remainder of the journalists had gone but they missed the trip of a lifetime - a real comedy. It was so bad that it was good.

Our first stop was Montespertoli, a small town in the heart of the Chianti area. It was Sunday and traffic was light when we left but soon it got busy with families taking to the road for a day out.

As we approached the piazza in Montespertoli we saw a lot of people just hanging around. All dressed in their Sunday best they appeared to be waiting for something, we surmised it was a wedding but no, it was us – 33 weary and very casually dressed journalists.

The coach pulled up outside the municipio (town hall) and we were invited to meet the major (mayor – a word commonly mispronounced by Italians who don’t use the letter ‘y’).

We trooped upstairs to his office and saw that a magnificent morning tea was laid out for us, however, we would be expected to wave to the crowd waiting patiently in the square. Like the royal family, we stood in little groups taking turns to wave as the people below clapped, I don’t know whether they knew who we were or how the ‘major’ had got everyone there but it was really a surreal start to a eventful trip.

After a tour of a couple of wineries we were taken to where we would be staying. We had been told it was a beautiful religious retreat with lovely grounds with beautiful gardens. As we drove up the imposing driveway, we could think of nothing else except dinner and then bed, it had been a long day. Little did we know we would have to go through a big explosion of emotions before that would happen.

At the retreat we lined up with our passports and were given our rooms. I was in a room in the basement along with a Japanese lady. We headed off to unpack leaving everyone else to settle in before we returned for the short trip into town where we would have a ‘typical meal’ before returning and settling in for the night.

Our rooms downstairs were very utilitarian - no pillow cases, no sheets, wire bunk beds and one lamp with a dodgy bulb - but after five days of luxury - judging wines while staying at the luxurious Bagnoli Group Due Torre Hotel, I was prepared to put up with conditions for a night. I however, was alone with that thought!

I came upstairs to a banshee screaming and several men shouting in different languages at our poor guide Gilda, voices were raised and no one was happy. “We are not going to stay here”, “We are important journalists” and “What is this place it looks like a prison”. Poor Gilda the guide didn’t know how to cope, she had been given this job because she could speak four languages, her normal job was as an ‘international hostess’ at Vinitaly translating for visitors needing help.

Fortunately things quietened down, like the aftermath of every explosion there is a period of peace and quiet while the dust settles. Taking advantage of this she quickly called the ‘major’ and explained we were revolting (in both senses of the word) and refusing to stay.

The ‘major’ said to stay, there had been a misunderstanding and we would be moved elsewhere and to not worry.

Shortly Gilda’s phone rang, the major had found us alternative accommodation so we all piled back on the bus to be billeted around the town in various other accommodation facilities: holiday villas, small hotels and private houses.

Finding our new accommodation, going to the local pizzeria for dinner and heading back saw all 33 of us very tired and looking forward to bed. I think Montespertoli, the major and Gilda, our poor guide, were all grateful to see the back of us that night.

Next post: Exploring Montespertoli

Travels on a bus in Italy

2011-09-29T01:54:00.000-07:00

In February 1999, I was invited to Vinitaly by the Italian Chamber of Commerce in Melbourne. Since that first trip to Italy as an adult, I have returned well over 80 times (I stopped counting at 80) and have formed a love-hate relationship with a country that can be the most hospitable and laidback while at the same time bureaucratic and officious.

I would love to go and live there permanently but I have many excuses stopping me – and that’s all they are, excuses. I’m not brave enough to move there, to leave my comfortable existence here, to leave my children and my dog to take a chance like my parents did in the early 1960s, when they came to Australia and started all over again so that my sister and I could have a wonderful life.

However, my frequent trips have introduced me to a world of wonderful chaos that I long to be involved in but at the same time grateful to escape from. Only people who have been to Italy will understand, for those that haven’t, I hope your journey to Bella Italia isn’t too far away.

What an introduction

After a 32 hour flight via Zurich – which put many of the passengers in a panic because the detour wasn’t mentioned on the ticket (I won’t name the airline so cavalier with their passengers except it is an Italian company in deep pooh at the moment) I arrived in Verona to a minus seven degree temperature and sleet. Expecting to grab my luggage from the carousel and put on my warm jacket, I bravely walked down the stairs of the plane and strode quickly across the tarmac and into the terminal in my short sleeves while everyone else was rugged up and looking rather curiously at me.

I waited, quite damp, until the last bag had come off the plane. Of course, Murphy’s Law had come into play and my bag wasn’t there. Gone was my desperately needed warm jacket and clean underwear and any hope of warmth.

With continuing bad luck, the lost luggage counter was closed. It reopened at 4pm when of course, the young lady returned from lunch – after all, who would want to have two people running such a vital part of the airport. However, on seeing my distress and slowly-turning-to-ice body, a woman from the ticket counter came to my assistance. As she worked for the previously unnamed airline (their colours are red, white and green) I didn’t place much hope in her but my need for warmth and clean clothes forced me to explain my situation. She made a few phone calls and found my luggage – it had been left on the tarmac at Rome airport and was to arrive on the next plane to Verona, which was in an hour’s time.

I thanked her profusely and followed her advice to go to my hotel and not to worry, my bag would be delivered as soon as it arrived. I waited patiently. Then I waited impatiently. Then I started to get worried, was my bag ever going to turn up?

After many phone calls by the gentleman at the hotel’s front desk, it finally arrived 24 hours later, safe and sound. After approximately two and a half days (adding time in transit) in the same clothes I wasn’t going to complain, I was just glad to be connected with my bag again. My soon-to-be fellow judges at the competition were probably glad as well!

Fortunately, as soon as I arrived and was sorted at the hotel, I had gone out and purchased a coat – three sizes too big (it was the only coat available) – and I wore it everywhere to everyone’s delight. I am a small person, 4’11’’ in the old measurements, and the coat had been made for someone a lot larger, I looked like a child playing dress-ups.

I did learn one thing from that trip – always carry a spare set of clothes in my hand luggage. Of course, my bag has never gone missing on the Rome leg of a trip ever again but it has disapppeared at various other airports.

I had been invited to judge at Vinitaly, the largest wine show in the world. I n those days it had 14 pavillions, numerous temporary restaurants and an olive oil exhibition. There were approximately 45 judges from the many countries that sold Italian wines as well as 45 winemakers from some of the leading companies in Italy. The invitation had promised the wine competition then a trip around Tuscany while we waited for Vinitaly to start and of course, Vinitaly itself. I was very excited and was looking forward to everything as it was all new to me. There were a few old hands who spoke English and one person in particular took special care of me. Carlo Corino, had been the winemaker at Montrose Estate near Mudgee, and had been back in Italy just a short while.

He had a frightening appearance, brooding looks combined with a bald head and standing well over 1.8 metres tall. He always dressed in a big black coat making him look like someone out of a gangster movie. However, the old adage of never judging a book by its cover proved right, he turned out to be the biggest teddy bear.

He discovered there was someone coming from Australia and he sought me out. It was his first contact with someone from Australia since his return to Sicily, where he was working for a large wine company. Carlo guided me through various things like how to mark wines (the Italian system is completely different from Australia), which people were good to talk to and where the best coffee was served. Carlo died several years ago but I still think of him when I return to judge every two years or so.

On the first day of judging we were given our program. We were to judge for three hours and then go back to the hotel for lunch which would take two hours. We would then came back and judge for another three hours and then we would have dinner. We had two breaks, one in the morning and one in the afternoon where the only thing served was espresso and biscotti, great for the taste buds when tasting wine, but we were in one of the most beautiful buildings in Verona. Called Villa Giusti, it had belonged to Agostino Giusti who developed the formal gardens and made them a magnificent showpiece.

The building had been built in the 16^th century and although it looked as if it was in good condition, things were not as they seemed. One morning when we were hard at work tasting wines and all you could hear was the occasional tinkle of glassware, we were all woken up – a part of the cornice had broken off and fallen to the floor. Bang! A big lump had fallen 10 metres to hit the ground, thank goodness no one had been standing underneath it. Plaster and concrete were spread all over the floor and the proceedings were interrupted for a few minutes while they cleaned up. Apologies were flying thick and fast but it was all fixed up and we set to work again – shaken and stirred

We worked until lunchtime, no one had been hurt and it was forgotten or at least put to the back of our minds as we headed back to the hotel for lunch. In the afternoon we were once again deep in thought and bang! Another piece of the cornice came down narrowly missing a sommelier. Villa Giusti is no longer used as a venue for the judging. I wonder why?

After the judging was completed we had a week to wait until Vinitaly actually opened so ICE (the Italian Trade Commission in Italy) sent us on a trip around Tuscany. All the foreigners were put on a bus and we were told, we would be shown the best that Tuscany had to offer. We went off with satisfaction of a job well done and high expectations of what was ahead. In retrospect, it was probably one of the most enjoyable trips I ever had although it didn’t turn out the way ICE (The Italian Trade omission in Italy ) expected it to.

NEXT: My Journey Begins