Wine Jabber

Shivering in NYC

2010-02-04T20:08:00-07:00

Quick visit to NYC to see my sister and family. I haven't been in almost a year ... way too long. I take the train to Philly for a night to visit friends and have the de rigeur philly cheesesteak - hey, when visiting a place for the first time, it's a great idea to sample the local specialty. And what makes a cheese steak authentic? Cheeze Whizz!

Back to NYC: it was frickin' cold. The 15-block walk from ICP to the Modern left me so cold it took a 20-minute break with a large hot chocolate to recover. I prowled museums and galleries for the most part. Seeing Goya's the Forge in its new hanging at the Frick was fantastic. This is one of the greatest paintings (ever, IMHO) and the new hanging avoids the glare and reflection problems at the old location. Plus you can get close enough to examine the brushwork. At the Met, I love going to the room of Goyas and reacquainting myself. The Modern had a super-crowded exhibit of Tim Burton's work which I avoided. There are some fabulous new photographs hanging and I wandered through the permanent galleries, enjoying works by Rousseau le Douanier, Picasso's Demoiselles, and de Chirico.

Went to Maialino for dinner one night; I'd read about this new roman trattoria and was curious ... the place is completely overwhelmed by its of-the-moment "itness". I had the eponymous maialino, a roast suckling pig, which was delicious. The portion is for 2-3 people, so I had a lot of leftovers. Service was well-meaning, friendly, and inept. A nice touch: giving you individually portioned loaves of ciabatta bread for making sandwiches with your inevitable leftovers the next day. A not-so-nice touch: leaving your leftover bag at the coat check for pickup so you feel obligated to give yet another tip.

Also, excellent meal at Yerba Buena on the LES with A & T, my sister and brother-in-law. This is a classic neighborhood gem: if this was near my home in Denver, I'd be here at least every other week. The pan-Latin-influenced cuisine is delicious, easy to enjoy and we scarfed every last bite of everything that was brought to our table. The place communicated its aspirations and values clearly through the menu, and the service is efficient, friendly and unpretentious. Every dish we had was delicious, fit well with the restaurant's mission and was beautifully presented. The owner was on hand and having him roam the tiny dining room made us feel like we were in someone's living room. Wine list was full of great things from all parts of the latin wine world, but with a bit of a dearth in the $45-75 range and a curious lack of depth in Spanish Grenache. As we left, snow was beginning to fall, always a magical thing in NYC.

A very interesting white consumed with my sister at her apartment: a wine made from the city vineyards of Zurich, the StaatsKellerei Zurich, from Pinot Noir (vinified off the skins), Riesling, Sylvaner, Muscat and Gewurztraminer. Wildly aromatic, with scents of flowers, peaches, hazelnuts and citrus,it was surprisingly light on the palate, very crisp and delineated, with good nectarine, melon and apple flavors. Lovely, balanced, light and refreshing. (3.0nb)

Wine Find of the Year, 2009, under $15

2010-01-15T21:17:00-07:00

With an inexpensive wine, I look for particular qualities: it must be easy to enjoy, pack a lot of quality for the price, be forgiving with lots of different types of food, and not require and advanced degree to understand what makes it so damned good. In short, it just has to taste really good whether consumed alone or with a meal. This years winner of the "Under $15" category is Evodia, a 100% Grenache from the Aragon region of Spain. It is juicy, tasty, uncomplicated and fun. For those of you that need a bit of backstory, it's made by the same team that made the Las Rocas Grenache - when that brand was sold to LVMH, the owners kept the plots of vines that they used to make the "old vines" cuvee, and those plants are now the source of this delicious and unpretentious wine. Aromas and flavors of black fruits, sweet vanilla and oak, with excellent acidity and decent length. It practically begs for gulping. For this price, who needs more? It will not improve with age and should be consumed with relish over the next 12-18 months. Lovely! (3.5)

Summit, COS: boring place; lovely wine.

2010-01-14T11:12:00-07:00

Had dinner at the Summit, the least stodgy of the Broadmoor Hotel's dining choices. I've been coming since the restaurant opened and have always found it good without being truly excellent - and this time was no different. The room is nice, the service is friendly and well-meaning if often completely clueless, and the meals are consistently decent though uninspired. It's probably the best choice for "fine" dining in Colorado Springs. Still, it pisses me off that with a bit more effort, this place could be truly excellent.

There was one waiter a year or two back in whose section I would be sat every time I visited, who had the deeply annoying habit of narrating his service to you. As this is a hotel restaurant, the staff is also trained to use your name whenever they address you - so I would get things like "I'm going to refill your water glass now, Mr. Manley" or "Here's your basket of delicious housebaked breads, Mr. Manley" or I'm going to crumb your table now, Mr. Manley." By the end of the meal, I'd be ready to throttle someone.

The menu is divided into "Seasonal" and "Favorites" but I've never seen the seasonal side change more than twice a year. For a restaurant that advertises ambition and luxe through its atmosphere and wine program, the menu is a remarkably static document - it transmits a fear of change and/or risk. It tells me that the management does not have a lot of confidence in the chef, and the chef must not have a lot of confidence in his staff. When the menu does change, it seems incremental - there are no "wipe the slate clean" moments here. I suspect with a good part of its business coming from travelers, there is little demand from locals for change. And why mess with a good thing? Or one that's at least acceptable? I feel that the management should call a spade a spade and get the menu laminated.

The wine program, however, is very nice, and the list is full of hidden gems and interesting selections. Kudos to Bucky and Monique for doing such an excellent job with this.

With the meal - I had the same dishes I almost always have every time I visit, because I've had everything on the menu at least once and have by now narrowed my choices down to two or three things that are acceptable - we had the surprising 2002 Côtes de Roussillon Villages "Clos des Fées" from Herve Bizeul. A blend of Carignane, Grenache, Syrah and Mourvedre, this is both an intense and balanced wine from the difficult 2002 vintage. This is a modern wine, with lush fruit and a good dose of new oak, but I suspect that the difficulty of the vintage informed a judicious use of new barrels and the result is surprisingly balanced and, in a word, delightful. This was a selection that Bucky originally pointed out to me and I've had the wine several times since then. Layers of tarry black fruits are combined with minerality and decent acidity that make for a lovely mouthfeel and give the finish an especially balanced and satisfying feel. This is not one for ageing - I'd consume it over the next 2-4 years. (3.0+ nb)

J-P Sartre, sitcom screenwriter

2010-01-05T21:16:00-07:00

For the holidays, I was pressed into service ... cooking. My girlfriend's family came in from out of town, and I was responsible for cooking a Christmas turkey for the clan. Avert your eyes, dear reader - it was quite the production. At least, with the queasy discomfort that comes with being introduced to complete strangers who are appraising you with a rather critical eye, I could, in moments of stress, say: "Clear the kitchen!" She lives in Manitou Springs, 75 miles south of Denver, so I packed all the necessary kitchen equipment (I can't seem to cook without my knives, man), the necessary ingredients, two cases of wine, and not least, a turkey that I'd been brining for 5 days into my Mini Cooper and made my way south.

Hell might well be cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen with hordes of strangers running about, all of whom are interested in getting to know you on a deep personal level while you are trying not to get burned by hot pans and/or food. Imagine if J.P.S. had been employed as a TV writer. Lets take this idea, but instead of the hotel room with the nondescript corridor, we'll make it a kitchen - the turkey, of course, will represent the cook's existential quandary, broiling under the hot rays of attention.

A few of the wines we had over a few days of imbibing and great meals ...

2000 Aubry "Sable Rosé" Champagne
Lovely clear delicate mousse. Aromas of raspberry and strawberry, with nice orange peel and fresh peach and pear. In the mouth, good balance and harmony - excellent interplay of the freshness of the acid structure and purity of the fruit. (4.0+ nb)

2008 Cavalotto Langhe Bianco
This is a special wine - the Cavallottos have a small patch of Pinot Noir on their hillside in Castiglione Falletto. Some years, they vinifiy it as a "Blanc de Noirs" still wine. This bottling showed lovely freshness and peach/white currant aromas and flavors. It is not a complex wine, rather is it is simple and unpretentious, but very delicious. Sold only at the winery and at a few places in the Langhe. I carried this bottle back from Europe. (3.0+ nb)

2008 Campogrande Cinque Terre
A lot of Cinque Terre wines are insipid, flavorless, unstructured wines that taste good only because they are consumed where they are made - in the Ligurian villages that sweep down to the sea. I've had loads of these wines over the last 15 years, and in Cinque Terre they are acceptable, even tasty - the proximity to one of the most beautiful sea- and landscapes in the world makes just about anything taste good. The Campogrande is a bit of an anomaly, and if it is able to gain traction in the marketplace, may take the place that Didier Dageneau's wines have in Pouilly-Fumé: the role of shaming just about every other producer in the whole region into making better wines. There are lots of possibly insurmountable barriers to this happening: the Campogrande is considerably more expensive, the Cinque Terre is not known for quality wines, the lion's share of attention in the wine press for "Serious" wines is directed toward reds. One thing in this wine's favor: the brains and winemaking skill behind it is none other than the wildly talented Barolo producer Elio Altare. I'll write more about Campogrande at some point in the future, but for now, some thoughts on the wine: Lovely straw-gold color, aromas of super-ripe fruits and a briny minerality that makes me think of seaweed, very full in the mouth and layers of fruit and minerals that have excellent length and depth. A few cases of the 2008 or 2009 will come to the US through Altare's usual distribution in 2010 (Marc de Grazia Imports) and if you are interested in unique whites, I urge you to seek out a case. It's not cheap but worth every penny. (3.5+ nb)

1997 Fuglini Brunello di Montalcino Riserva
A great, still-brooding and backward wine from the excellent 1997 Tuscan vintage. Fuglini is known as a more traditional producer and this wine was quite lacking in sweet vanillin oakiness, letting the intense Sangiovese come through (this note is for the second bottle; the first bottle was completely corked, unfortunately). Deep black stone fruits, the edge of a metallic zing in the palate, the earthiness ... this wine had layers and layers of dark flavors and aromas that opened up over 45 minutes. Lovely long length, finishing with solid, ripe tannins and hints of dried fruits. This is drinking nicely now but give it another 3 years and it may yet improve. (4.5- nb)

2006 Sandrone Nebbiolo d'Alba "Valmaggiore"
This bottling is one I have had an up-and-down relationship with since first trying it in the mid-nineties. Some years I loved it, some years I was completely indifferent. Since the 2001 vintage I think this has been going from strength to strength. The 2006 vintage was a generally good to excellent vintage in the Langhe (notwithstanding all you may have heard, especially given the Giacosa winery's decision not to bottle their 2006 Barolo and Barbaresco) and the Valmaggiore Nebbiolo d'Alba is spectacular. In weight and structure, this most resembles a mid-level Burgundy from, say, Volnay. It has a fantastic nose of berries and dark fruit, good minerality and a firmness and clarity in the mid-palate that I really appreciate. It held up to the turkey dinner admirably and was a better match than the heavier Brunello. The 2007 of this wine looks to be excellent and the 2008 may be even better as it was not as hot. (4.0- nb)

1994 Rene Rostaing, Côte-Rotie "La Viaillère"
Black cherry and minerals, hints of brett (not unpleasant) and wood, rich secondary characteristics of mushrooms and loam, good acidity and length ... and yet, it leaves me cold. It is a good wine, but seems to need, for lack of a better word, emotion. (2.5 nb)

1998 Montepeloso "Gabbro," Toscana
A 100% Caberent Sauvignon cuvee from the southern Bolgheri. Good modern nose: lots of cassis and black fruit, pencil lead and oak. At 11 years old it still shows freshness and presence. On the palate, nice dark fruits, especially cassis and pear, well-integrated oak and good length. From the difficult 1998 vintage, this is a very successful wine. (3.5+ nb)

More Cavallotto

2009-12-30T23:55:00-07:00

Alfio Cavallotto, with whom I visited last week and whose wines are the subject of the previous post, was back in town the Thursday before the holidays. We met with his importer at Sushi Sasa in downtown Denver for lunch. Funny - my fist meeting with Alfio was several years ago when our mutual friend Silvia Altare decided we were all going to drive to Liguria from Barolo for a dinner of ... drumroll please ... raw fish. In the coastal areas of Italy, fish is often served uncooked, just dressed with a bit of olive oil and salt, and sometimes a bit of lemon juice. The restaurant, Buco di Bacco in Pietre Ligure, was fabulous, not least of which was the amazing list of champagne, as well as the owner, who sized us up the moment we walked in and then brought us, without consulting anyone in the group, the bottle of Champagne he thought we would enjoy the most. It was a great meal - the antipasti of raw and slightly cooked seafood and fish ran to about 15 plates, and so we just split a single pasta afterwards and skipped the secondi entirely. In any case, Alfio was great company at that dinner, and we've kept up contact since. He's a most interesting and really intelligent guy - I like people who, when they decide they are interested in something, dive into the deep end, head first. He's like that.

Interestingly, his red wines went well with the sashimi and sushi. The same wines were poured as at Radda, but this time, the Dolcetto showed much better - brighter fruit, depth and length. Really nice. For the other wines, tasting notes were consistent.

Cavallotto's winemaking is an interesting amalgam of both modern and traditional methods. Walking into the winery the first time several years ago, I was stuck by the big Slavonian chestnut botti, the lack of barrique, and the resulting style of the wines ... until I spied the row of rotofermentors in the vinification room. Mon Dieu! Quelle Surprise! Alfio explained that they still do a 15-35 day maceration for the must, but using rotofermentors allows better control of the pip tannins. As with almost every estate in Piedmont now, the grapes are destemmed to minimize the stalk tannins, which in Nebbiolo are particularly potent and astringent, and rarely, if ever, as ripe as the skin and pip tannins. After the fermentation, the winemaking style is resolutely trad: for the Barolo, 2-4 years in the enormous botti, then bottle ageing for a year or two. The wines are classically styled, with acid and ripe tannin giving a particularly elegant structure to the wines. The fruit is present and in balance but never in a forward or showoffy way. The wines reflect what I consider to be the house style of impeccable structure, good balance and elegance before flash. As such, they are underappreciated in the marketplace and can usually be found at a considerably lower price than many other Barolo. I tasted a barrel sample of the 2004 Barolo Bricco Boschis, Riserva San Giuseppe in November 2009 in La Morra and found it to be lovely, long and sweet, with good cherry and violet aspects, very ripe and long, needing 5-8 years to fully pull together but certain to enjoy a drinking window of a further 15 years (I scored it 4.0+). The 2004 Barolo Bricco Boschis, Riserva Vignolo was slightly tighter and more tannic, with good fruit but extremely closed at this point (3.5+). Both are lovely wines that have a long life ahead of them.

The big surprise with the sushi was the 2005 Barbera Bricco Boschis, Vigna del Cuculo. I would never have thought that a 4 year old Barbera would be this delicious and complementary, especially with the shushi that had a strong umami aspect, like the Uni. This Barbera deserves mention for the layered complexity that really lets the grape shine through - many ambitious Barbera are now aged in new French oak barrels, which layers on flavors of chocolate, vanilla and coffee (delicious, by the way) - but this one lets the earthiness and minerality of the grape shine though. Nice job.

Sorry for the Radio Silence.

2009-12-17T11:58:58-07:00

It's been a little over a year since I posted. Apologies for to those of you who have told me how tired you are of the "Floor Drains" entry. It was a year of changes: I moved to Denver, sold off most of my businesses, and have re-purposed my professional activities toward consulting, education and writing.

Had lunch with Alfio Cavallotto on Monday in Boulder at the relatively new place Radda, just north of downtown - he's in for a visit from Castiglione Falletto in the Barolo. I've known him for a few years; we were introduced by a mutual friend. Alfio and his siblings are slowly taking over their family winery from their parents. The wines are, in a word, sensational - this is one of those flies-under-the-radar wineries that gets decent scores from all the big wine rags but somehow never seems to take off in the public imagination. Go figure. If your taste is for traditionally styled wines, this is an amazing buy.

Briefly, the wines: 2008 Dolcetto was pleasant but nothing special - it lacked plumpness in the mid-palate, but was quite drinkable (2.5-nb). Kudos for the 2005 Barbera - a lovely pure nose of fresh plums and dried berries. On the palate, good balance, dark fruits, tobacco and very fresh acidity. Many other producers are currently selling their 2008 and 2007 barbera - this one, with a few years of bottle age, is drinking beautifully. 3.0nb

The 2005 Barolo Bricco Boschis, from a beautifully exposed site just north of the village of Castiglione, is delicious. It shows the vintage's characteristics of forward evolution and fruit. There are aromas of black cherry, rose petals, and earth. This is not a modern-style wine with loads of oak - it sees only large botti for its wood ageing. On the palate, it has good fruit, nicely tight tannins and good length. It shows some of 2005's typical tannins but these will soften with 4-5 years patience. Drink 2013-2018. 3.5+nb

Kudos to Cavallotto for making such good wines. I also tasted the 2004 Riservas on a recent trip to Barolo and loved them - grab whatever you can find. They will be released next year.

Floor Drains

2008-10-21T07:14:00-06:00

I love floor drains. I lovelovelovelove floor drains. I loooooove floor drains. If I ever build a house, I want to put floor drains in every room. (You begin to understand why I’m still single.) No-fuss cleaning: just hose everything down. How great would that be?

I nearly separate from my solids. Again.

2008-10-20T17:55:00-06:00

Nearly separated from my own solids again today, when I mixed up a "delestage" and a "svinatura" - and Luciano walked in just before I ruined everything, everything, EVERYTHING and stopped me before I did any damage ... I was so beet red from embarrassment with burning ears he had to laugh and tell me "you know what almost happened, I know what almost happened, and no-one else has to know what almost happened ... Just learn from it." He's being really great with me - I think it's because when I make a mistake, it's an entirely new one. I've yet to make the same mistake twice with him ... I am wild crazy creative, dare I say Picasso-esque, new-mistakes-wise. Gotta respect talent like that!

Verona

2008-10-19T21:57:00-06:00

My friends have mixed up their flight and are arriving Saturday instead of Friday, but so what? Verona is among my favorite cities in the world and a day to myself without worry or care sounds quite groovalicious. I leave Monforte Friday morning around 11, and am in Verona by 2, and enjoying a glass of spritz in the Piazza Erbe by 2.30. I have the day to visit the incredible Romanesque churches – Verona is a UNESCO World Heritage site on account of those churches. And the Roman ruins are fabulous – Verona has one of only three Roman amphitheaters still in use today. The old Roman theater is built into a hillside and still hosts a summer theater festival while the amphiteater has an opera season all summer, and rock concerts are regularly scheduled there as well. (A few years ago I missed seeing Lenny Kravitz here by a few days.)
Most of the old town is limited to pedestrians, and it is possible to amble across the entire old city in less than 25 minutes at its widest part. It is a beautiful town, built into a loop of the Adige river, where the water could form a defensive ring on three sides. The women (and men) are beautiful and know how to dress both provocatively and elegantly – Verona is a wealthy town and the streets are flanked by designer shops – which makes people-watching a favorite activity here.

One of the best reasons to spend time in Verona is La Bottega del Vino, a simply fabulous restaurant just off the main pedestrian street. The old wooden beams are carved with wine sayings, and my favorite is “Dio mi guarda da chi non beve vino” (God protect me from those who don’t drink wine) which, I think, would make the basis for a really lovely prayer. I’ve been coming here for over 10 years and know some of the folks who work here: for example, Mario, the head sommelier, gets me in trouble every time: I just ask him to choose a wine for me from the region. Every time it’s something amazing that I’ve never heard of before. Every time he answers questions in my garbled Italian patiently and gives me a ton of info on the wine. And every time I leave the Bottega, I am glad that Verona is a pedestrian city, and I only have a few blocks to walk. I have my usual meal: antipasto della bottega, then the amazing handmade tortellini, then the grilled lamb chops with an arugula pesto. Between courses I read, chat with the staff and catch up with Mario. When I try to get up to leave at the end of the meal, he brings me a Bas-Armagnac from 1954 with a plate of roughly broken dark chocolate. Now that’s a perfect combination.

2001 Caterina Zardini, Amarone Classico
Flowers and frutta del bosco, vivid, intense color. Loads of dried plums, berries and hints of meat and cinnamon. Long finish, with good acid and structure, nice tannins – very ripe. Not too sweet at all. Fine balance. 4.0-, drink 2009-2014

2003 Tenuta Sant’Antonio, Amarone Classico “Campo del Gigli”
Loads of sweet fruit, sweet plums, tobacco and cinnamon. There is a meatiness and structure that is very firm – the acid is really pronounced and seem a bit disequilibrated. Nice, but with a hole in the middle … give it 3-5 years. 3.0

1954 Baron de Signognac Bas-Armagnac
Caramel, honey, walnuts and lychee. Very smooth and slightly sweet at the nose, but burns a tad in the mouth. Lovely, though. Long finish. 3.5-

The next day is spent enjoying the sun and wandering. H & E arrive at 1.30, and by 2 we are enjoying pizzas on the Piazza Erbe. The sun is delightfully warm. The afternoon is spent wandering the old city, visiting Juliet’s house (holding the breast of the statue is supposed to bring luck in love) (see series of pics of H), enjoying the sights and finishing up with the inevitable Veronese Spritz at the Osteria Verona on the Piazza Erbe. Spritz is a concoction of Aperol (a campari-like bitter, but a bit sweeter), mixed with white wine, sparkling mineral water and served over ice with a slice of orange. Deee-lish. The Osteria Verona has a multitude of tables outside its tiny interior bar area. The top of the bar is covered with bowls of chips, crackers, olives, gherkins, marinated onions … we make an early evening snack of it. By the time we leave, the whole end of the piazza is crowded with people holding glasses of spritz – empty wineglasses are all over the base of a monumental column, on tables, along the fountain. This little place must sell thousands of these glasses of spritz on nights when people can enjoy being outside.

I like the idea of a life lived publicly in community – and in Verona, the streets form part of an extended living room where much of life is lived outside, among one’s neighbors. The city has not been taken over by tourists (thought there are plenty of them) and the city’s piazzas and streets have the feel of an elegant living room, slightly ragged at the edges from centuries of loving use. Around 5, the population comes out for the passegiata – the afternoon walk. On this day, a just-wed couple is making their first passegiata as husband and wife. Via Mazzini, the main pedestrian thoroughfare between the Piazza Bra and the Piazza Erbe, is thronged with well-dressed locals out to see and be seen. This is where you catch up with neighbors, see friends, have drinks, exchange gossip, ignore ex-lovers, coo over small children, completely ignore your current extramarital lover, grab a snack, and so on. It is a lovely thing to watch, and be part of, if only tangentially.

Dinner at La Bottega del Vino (not AGAIN!) and I note a slight shift in the staff’s attitude toward me – usually I come in alone or with guy friends, but tonight, I am escorting not one, but two tall, intelligent, gorgeous women. “Emilio, how do you do this? How is this possible? This cannot be possible.” The fact that neither of these two tall, gorgeous, intelligent women has any interest in me is entirely beside the point …

Wines:
2006 Pieropan Soave “Calvarino”
All Soave should have breeding like this. Crisp, with apples, pears and minerals, this exudes smoothness and balance. Lovely. 3.5+ Drink now.

1990 Bertani Amarone
Dried plums, cranberries, hints of dried flowers and spices. Balanced and smooth after nearly 18 years, but with a hint of a mid-palate hole. The finish is really nice, full of dried fruits, with good balance overall. Just that hole in the middle … 3.5-

2003 Dal Forno, Rosso Passito Vino Dolce “Vigna Seré” Veneto IGT
Apparently, a new cuvee of young vine fruit for Dal Forno. This exhibits his trademark deep fresh fruit aromas and flavors, mostly red and black raspberries, blueberries and cranberries. This is deep and intense – loads of color. The flavors are balanced on the tongue and the only complaint I have is a touch of heat at the finish. But the finish is long and very sweet – this is an amazing wine. 4.0-

1955 Baron de Signognac Bas-Armagnac
Let hot than the 1954 I tried yesterday, this one shows loads of nutty caramel, earthy tones and vanilla. Really nice finish, very smooth. 3.5+

The next day, we enjoy more sights, grab a quick lunch, and I drive H & E to Alessandria, where they catch a train for the Cinque Terre. I keep on going toward Barolo … gorgeous sunset along the way.

The Asylum is in the Hands of the Inmates

2008-10-17T09:38:00-06:00

The week passes quickly. I am now in a groove and need minimal supervision. Good thing, as Luciano and Barbara are leaving Tuesday for the Wine Experience in New York. Luciano is nervous and doesn’t want to leave as grapes are still coming in and vats are full of fermenting juice. I hear a lot of “porca miseria!” and “crispa!” on Monday and Tuesday. He is stressed, and so is Barbara. This is a busy time at the winery. And Luciano is the show here – there are no consulting oenologists or winemakers coming in to make the wine. This is a small winery, and the winemaker has his name on the label. They don’t want to go, but feel they must. (Footnote 1: I check with some friends in NYC who tell me that the Speculum gets quite mad at winemakers who don’t come when invited. If you don’t accept, don’t ever be expect to be invited back.) (Footnote 2: Why this event is scheduled during harvest time is beyond my comprehension. I mean, the Wine Spectator, organizer of this event, is ostensibly a “wine” magazine, right? So they should know that “wine” is produced from “grapes”? And that “grapes” are a “fruit” that is harvested when “ripe,” a condition that is contingent on factors such as sunshine, rainfall, soils and geography, among others? And that this “harvest season” can extend from August to December, depending on the place? So why in fuck’s name are they scheduling the event in the middle of October? Are they morons? Idiots? Stupid? Do they like making people’s lives difficult? Or maybe … just maybe … they are completely oblivious.)

(Shit. I know I’m going to get mail about this.)

Tuesday morning, they are both running around trying to finish last-minute items. 20 minutes before departure, Luciano goes home (literally 2 minutes toward town), changes his shirt and pants, and is back to check on things one last time. They leave for Milan around 10. Luca and the crew are picking in the vineyards. Andrea and I are left in charge of the cellars … truly, the inmates have been left with the keys to the asylum (cue maniacal laugh here).

For the next three days, Luciano is calling every 20 minutes on the special “Luciano phone” that Andrea carries with him always. Analysis results, tasting notes, visual indicators and anything else are conveyed back to Luciano, and he tells us when to pump-over, when to delestage and when to svinare. Grapes are coming in thick and fast and Andrea is stressed and a tad cranky at times. I just try to do as much as I can, as quickly as possible.

The phone is ringing constantly, and it cracks me up to no end that the special ringtone that is programmed in for Luciano’s calls is the intro to the song “I just died in your arms tonight.” I find this incredibly hilarious and smile to myself everytime Andrea snaps the phone open and yells “Dimmi!” (tell me!).

Time passes quickly and 12 hour days pass in the blink of an eye. Every day is cleaning, racking, crushing and pressing. We shovel pomace, we heave crates and load pallets, we pull hoses and work like crazy. It is deeply rewarding to go home each night, shower off the grape guts and fall asleep in 15 minutes. It’s the kind of tired that feels right.

Plus, It's the full moon ... I sleep really well. Some pics of the winery and Monforte with the moon. The winery is really beautiful and tastefully lit at night, IMHO. The moon is so bright you could almost read by its light.

Wednesday, I do deliveries with Mariuccia. She takes me by the castle at Grinzane Cavour, which I had never seen. There's a wine museum, which we pass, and wine shop, where we discuss the relative merits of label design. The Sandrone bottles are really different from most others, which feature lots of script and curlicue script at that.

Thursday night rolls around and we are in good shape. The weather is holding (no rain, though it was forecast for Wednesday and Thursday), the grapes are beautiful, the fermentations are coming along nicely and Luciano is happy, from afar, with the progress we have made. Only one rough spot – one of the Barbera tanks started fermentation insanely quickly after about 28 hours of maceration – and promptly bubbled over the top of the tank (Damn! The one day I didn’t bring my camera!). We drain off some liquid and start recirculation with cold water cooling in the tank jacket to get the temperature down and the fermentation under control (the stainless steel fermentation tanks are double-walled and one can pump hot or cold water through the "jacket" to control temperature). Remember, when the must comes in Luciano heats it up to about 30-33 degrees C – he finds that the warm maceration before fermentation does wonders for color and aroma extraction. Once fermentation starts, the temperature is brought down to 22-24 C. At 30 C, the tanks would explode from fermenting so quickly! The colors and aromas on the new wines are amazing.

I stay ‘til 8 on Thursday, feeling guilty that I am taking the next three days off – I’ve been planning to meet friends from COS in Verona since April, and the time is upon us. I am really ready for a break from the chaos and clamor of harvest. I drive up the hill after work to the Altares to say hi, and their almost-last grapes are still coming in … so I help them crush the final load, clean the equipment, then join them for dinner in the house. Silvia and Elio are on a tear, and the winery workers are heaving buckets of grapes into Elio’s crusher/destemmer (his own design!) faster than I can feed the buckets into the washer. Tes is hosing off the equipment as soon as we are done with it. This crushing line is about three times as fast as at Sandrone, and it is pretty damn exciting to see a whole trailer load of grapes go down in 20 minutes instead of the hour plus I had been expecting. This is, like, winemaking on amphetamines, dude.

We have the crush pad cleaned and the must in tank in no time at all.

Lucia has prepared another amazing meal and though everyone is beat, we laugh, eat, gossip and drink, finishing up the rest of the day’s sample bottles that were opened for tourists. (The 2004 Altare Barolo is stupendous. Run, don’t walk, to your local retailer and beat him into submission to get as many bottles as you can lay your hands on.) After and hour or so, everyone starts nodding off. I am in bed at 11 and for once, I don’t need to set an alarm!

La Coccinella

2008-10-15T23:40:00-06:00

Wednesday night I go to La Coccinella in Serralunga Valle with the Altares (Elio, Lucia and Silvia) and Tes. It’s a half-hour drive over there and the room is rustic, homey and cozy beyond belief. The kind of place where you get a good feeling right when you walk in the door. The smells of porcini wafting from the kitchen are intoxicating.

The family that runs the place have been here for ages and the walls are decorated with local carvings, antique copper kitchen implements, and old bottles of Barolo dating back to the 40’s. Their take on the local cuisine is relentlessly traditional and there are no modern flourishes – this is straight, simple casalinga cooking (housewife). Really great stuff.

Elio picks the first wine: a Marchesi Alfieri Barbera d’Asti. Then on to a 1996 Cavalotto Barolo, and finishing with a 2001 Parusso Barolo. All the wines are very different but each has its strengths – my favorite is the Cavalotto. We have rich, autumnal food: I start with a kind of artichoke tart, then a gnocchi with hazelnuts (really common here and right in season), followed by a brasato. All are great, and the kitchen sends out two plates of fried porcini chunks to accompany the meal: wow. These are rough cut (about 3/4 inch cubed), dipped in a light batter and deep-fried. The woodsy, earthy and meaty essence of the porcini is perfectly expressed in this preparation. We wolf everything down. Tes is in particularly fine form.

I skip on dessert, but Silvia describes hers as being made with nuts, butter and love.

We’re all wiped out by the time we make it back to the Altare house around midnight, but what a meal!!! If this restaurant was located inside the Barolo zone, it would be booked months in advance.

I survive my first encounter with the Italian Health-Care system.

2008-10-14T18:25:00-06:00

My knees are hurting so much from all the activity of winemaking – climbing ladders, running up and down stairs, jumping up and off of tractors – that I have begin walking with a noticeable limp. The pain is intense and I am popping Advil like candy corn. Usually, in the States, I see a chiropractor every week or so; I like having good posture and it helps me sleep a lot. Here, chiropractors are unheard of. I try not to complain but Andrea and Rosella, especially, notice that all is not well in Allieland. Unfortunately, they’ve never even heard of chiropractors.

Elio tells me that there’s a guy in Alba who does a kind-of chiropractic work. HE saw him when the back was getting really run down and it helped. Silvia is in her typical “Lifesaver” mode and makes a call for me to the guy and sets up an appointment. She gives me directions to the place – Alba is full of one-way streets and you have to enter the town at the right place to get to this office – what a lifesaver.

I make my way into town and park nearby. The office is one room of a private apartment. I have to wait out in the hallway of the building. When I come in, there is a small room with only a grey metal desk, a coathanger and an examination table. It is painted two-tone: dark grey up to about 5 feet off the ground, light grey above. There is a window out into the courtyard that is frosted. The space has all the charm of a triage room: the first thing that pops into my head is that “awful things could happen here.” The doc is mostly blind and in his early fifities. He tells me to get undressed and lay on the table. I resist the urge to deliver a chop to the base of his neck and run.

For the next hour, I am examined and recalibrated by some of the most amazing fingers with which I have ever come in contact. It’s a combination of massage, chiropractic adjustment and acupressure. This is amazing: it feels so good that I describe it later as “Almost, but not quite, better than sex.” Plus he didn’t try to change me the next morning. (Note to ex-girlfriends who may be reading this: That was a JOKE.) Fifteen minutes in, every part of my body is tingling. He spends fifteen minutes pressing on the pressure points in my ears; this is so relaxing that I fall asleep. I’m twisted and turned, prodded and ultimately told to get up. “It will be sore for a few days as your body releases stored toxins. Then you will feel better. One hundred euros.” Of course this is black market health care and I’ve come prepared with cash. “Also: see your chiropractor less often when you go back to the States. This way your body will get used to going longer without adjustment. For tonight: no dancing, no karaoke, no big meal. And, who is your preference for the election?”

Funny how everyone here wants to talk about the American election in two weeks. Though Belusconi is hugely popular here, most Italians are unabashedly pro-Obama. As I leave, I notice I am limping less. By evening, I am feeling really good.

I skip the karaoke and dancing, but do go out to the Saracca in Monforte with Silvia. Great meal.

The next day I am feeling waaaaay better. I’ve survived my first encounter with the health-care system! I wasn’t poisoned, I’m not a “volunteer” for a science experiment, I haven’t had odd parts of my body shaved and I lived to tell the tale. Call it a good day.

Rosella and Mariuccia

2008-10-14T08:54:00-06:00

Some days, I help out in the warehouse off the bottling room putting together orders for shipment. Rosella, Luca’s wife, is in charge of shipments, and we become fast friends putting together the orders. There’s always lots of joking and god-natured teasing, but with Rosella there’s a double dose. Andrea walks in one day and tells her that he’s never ever ever EVER seen her mad, unhappy or yelling in all his time at the winery; always happy, never irritated. She tells him to ask Luca if he’d agree with that statement! HA!

We load cases and cases of Dolcetto, Barbera and Nebbiolo on to pallets. I get to be quite the whiz at figuring out the arrangement of boxes to best fit on a pallet … and then get blisters on my fingers while shrink-wrapping them later. Putting two or three six-packs on a pallet seems ludicrous to me, but hey, that’s how we do things here. I decide that any person or business that orders less that 18 cases (these are 6-packs all) should be taken out and maimed. I suggest that they do minimum orders. No. How about “suggested minimum?” No. How about increasing the shipping charges for small orders to encourage people to order more? No. How about somebody else doing this work? No, No, No. Why not just put your ”suggestion box” sign on the paper shredder? Huh? What is this you are saying?

Rosella is incredibly sweet and good-natured to me. She is from Canale, in the Roero. I find, as an outsider, a connection to her, who married into a family of strong-willed people. I think it is easy to get lost among the outsized personalities here. I get into the habit of saying, after every request she makes of me, “as you wish.” (I am, after all, just a farmboy here!). Finally she asks me: what is this as you wish? (Her English is pretty good). Come tu vuoi. Ah! She exclaims. Those are three words I need to hear much more often!! Keep repeating those, Emilio, and you will make any woman happy!

I make deliveries with Mariuccia one day. Mariuccia is short for “little Maria” – I’m sure that she’s been called this since she was a little girl, and it just stuck. She is the quiet, smiling, easygoing opposite to Luciano’s intensity. As we drive around to various restaurants and enoteca, delivering a van full of cases, she tells me all about Luciano and Barbara – both are incredibly strong-willed, intelligent, intense and stubborn people. Luciano is completely focused on the quality of his winery at every level and has a bit of a reputation as an intense, impatient and occasionally testy person. Obviously, this single-mindedness has contributed to Luciano’s success as a winemaker, but, che dolore, Santa Maria, che testa dura!! (What a hard head!!), and how difficult he can be to live with, sometimes. Barbara has also told me about this – and she also has, according to Mariuccia, a "testa dura" and argues a lot with him. Funny, because sometimes other winemakers describe him as being non-committal and wishy-washy ... strange. With me he has been nothing other than understanding, gentle and patient.

We arrive at a restaurant, Mariuccia finds the proprietor and I unload the boxes. In my blue work apron I look almost like any other unschooled laborer – most proprietors and managers address me in the informal “tu” – until Mariuccia introduces me as their “American writer” doing a stage with the winery. Then the attitude changes considerably, even veering deeply toward obsequiousness on occasion. (Everyone here knows “Romancing the Vine” and how that changed the fortunes of those mentioned in the book.) Really, it’s the shorts and Doc Martens boots that should give me away. It’s funny how class-conscious many Italians seem to be. When I’m here as a tourist, I am addressed completely differently than when I’m wearing the apron (I mean, in the case of being a stagiste, outside the winery – the Sandrones have told me that I’m now part of the family and treat me incredibly well). We deliver to a hotel and the manager won’t even look at me. He sits in the cellar smoking while I hump the cases of wine down the stairs; he grunts and points his finger to show where I should set the boxes. This doesn’t bother me one bit – instead, it offers an interesting look at the Italian soul. In any case, I like to work hard.

I had never met Mariuccia before this visit. Of all the people I have just met the first time this trip, she has made me feel the most incredibly welcome and at home right away - she has been gracious, generous and giving in a style that is all good and all her own. She is disarmingly unpretentious. The first day I met her, I addressed her as Signora Sandrone, and she laughed! Emilio! Stop that! Everyone calls me Mariuccia! Every day, she walks through the winery with the biggest smile - it just lights up the room. Lila, her little dog, follows her everywhere, except into the fermentation room. Lila can smell the CO2, which is heavier than air and collects close to the ground, and stays outside the door, barking: “Mariuccia, come out, dammit!!” Over the last two weeks, she's begun bringing me treats during the day - chocolates, a foccacia, a coffee - when she's bringing Luciano something to eat or his thermos of coffee. (I think the treats are making me gain weight ...). I begin to see her as the sugar that balances that tart intensity of the winery. (If that sounds like a description of a Mosel Riesling, you’re right on.) I am sure, however, in a crisis, she'd be the rock in the veritable tornado. She's just a lovely lady. I've really come to enjoy knowing her and spending time with her is always a pleasure. The days that I miss seeing her seem incomplete, somehow.

More Harvest

2008-10-12T23:38:00-06:00

Barbera harvest is in full swing in Valmaggiore. The grapes are gorgeous. We walk through one farmer’s vineyards to get to Luciano’s plots. I am amazed by the sheer quantity of fruit in the neighboring vineyard: 10-14 bunches per vine. I pick a berry and taste it – yuck. All tart acid, no sweetness whatsoever. We cross over the dirt track into Luciano’s vineyards, where there are 4-6 bunches per plant, and the difference is startling. Even though Barbera is a high-acid grape, these berries have a balance of sweetness and acid that is extraordinary. Luca and Luciano talk, I listen to their Piedmontese chatter. They instruct me on the differences between Nebbiolo and Barbera, and shows how when a Barbera grape is pulled off the stem, a tiny drop of liquid pushes out of the stem-hole; clear with a faint hint of rose. When you see the rose tint, the grapes are ready. These are delicious, and I much on a bunch as we trudge back to the car.

The grapes come in at 6.30 and we crush until 9. I am home at 9.15, shower off the grape guts and in bed by 9.45, asleep almost before my head hits the pillow.

Friday is a day at the winery. More grapes will come in this afternoon, so we do the daily tasks quickly to get things out of the way before the next wave of fruit comes in. Luciano does a punch down. Andrea separates liquids from the solids on the vat of Sangue di Judas destined for the bulk seller. Barbara does not want her picture taken. They catch me taking notes in my little journal. Grapes come in at 4 and I am done at 7. Only 11 hours!

As I am walking out to my humble little Fiat Punto, I fall into a conversation with Barbara, and her daughter Alessia suggests I come with them for a pizza in La Morra. Excellent, except I am covered in grape gunk and kinda smelly to boot. They drag me along, up the hill, and we enjoy Neapolitan pizza baked in a wood-fired oven. Stefano and Alessia are great, fun kids – and Alessia is determined to get every last bit of her dessert off the plate …

Saturday, more grapes, more cleaning, and I learn to drive the tractors. In the morning, we are unloading and loading a delivery truck with the tractor-based forklift, which Luciano manages with the easy skill of someone who could do this in his sleep. All those hydraulic levers and buttons that make things happen – it all looks like a book written in a very foreign language to me. When we’ve finished the loading/unloading, Luciano tells me to bring the tractor around to the equipment shed. Who, me? Yes, it’s easy, he points at a few of the levers, saying here, here, and there, press that, e Boung! Vai! (People here say “Boung” a lot. I’m still not sure what it means.) I am nervous, and the thing is funky because the turning wheels are behind me, but this … is … kinda … fun. I need to get me one of these.

The lesson continues later – Luca is bringing the day’s grapes in with the big John Deere, when he tells me that I am going to learn to drive it today. He calls Luciano when they leave the vineyard site, and I am delivered to the tractor, where Luca, sitting beside me, instructs me on which levers, pedals and switches to touch, and which, on pain of death, to not even look at. Stefano has made a hand-drawn sign commemorating the harvest and painted his face with juice – Northern Italian warpaint, which will probably take three days to come off – and we hang the sign on the trailer before continuing on. Pretty soon, I am barreling down a back road (Ha! Barreling! More like uptempo crawling!) hauling the load of grapes.

Silvia joins me for dinner at La Rosa dei Vini, a country guesthouse with a simple traditional kitchen and a spectacularly well-priced wine list, filled with older vintages. She has had a rough day and so I am treating her to dinner. We have an amazing meal, each ordering the exact same thing: a baked tuma cheese to start, rough-cut pasta with leeks, then a rare bistecca. All good, and with Giacosa’s 1998 Faletto Barolo, most excellent.

Sunday I have off and read, write, clean the apartment and read the online newspaper – I am finally getting a wifi signal again! Silvia invites me up for Sunday lunch: Lucia has made an amazing Bollito Misto, the aromas of which completely overwhelm me as soon as I walk into their kitchen. It is amazing how some scents immediately make me feel at home – and this one, of a pot of vegetables and beef shoulder cooked long and slow, makes me want to sit down and just breathe it in. Silvia and Tes come in from the vineyards – they are picking today – and we wolf down lunch. When they go back to the rows of grapes, I return to Monforte for reading, writing and lazing. A good day.

1998 Giacosa Barolo, Falletto di Serralunga d’Alba (at La Rosa dei Vini)
This is still young and quite tight, but the aromas of tar, violets and cherries is compelling. Perfect with autumnal cooking. Medium bodied, like great pinot noir – I can compare this to nothing other than Volnay. It has the earthiness and backbone of an old European aristocrat. Wonderfully expressive on the nose, the palate is still closed and needs 5-7 more years. 4.0+

2007 Bovard, Dezaley Grand Cru, Switzerland (with the Bollito Misto)
The Dezaley vineyard near Lausanne is one of only two Grand Cru for Chasselas grapes in Switzerland. This has great minerality, clean pear and golden apple flavors and aromas, hints of nectarine and flowers and is just a pleasure to drink. Ageing will not improve it any further – drink up and enjoy. 3.5

A Day in the Life

2008-10-12T12:15:00-06:00

Some of you have written to me wanting to read more about the routine of my life here. All right. My alarm goes off at 6.05, and the first thing I do is walk out on the porch – barefoot, but wearing pyjama bottoms and an old HFOZ t-shirt - and just smell the air. It is still dark at that hour, but I can get a sense of the day from the quality of light of the yellowish streetlamps in the village below. Usually mornings are foggy, misty and cold. I have some fruit and yogurt or a few slices of braesola for breakfast.

The view from my apartment is a marvelous thing. I look directly south toward Dogliani and the Maritime Alps. To the left (east) are the hills of the Alta Langa and the sunrise. To the west, If I stretch, I can see the Monte Viso, a Matterhorn-like peak on the French-Italian border. The light softens the contours of the hills and valleys and seems to change the tonal values of the light that reflects and shapes the landscape.

Some days, I stop in the village for a coffee, and even more occasionally the IHT, but usually I just go straight to the winery, getting there before 8.

The coffee machine at the winery is a marvelous, marvelous thing. Everyone has their own electronic “key” to which you can add credit. I’ll have a cappuccino (or two) in the morning, then espresso the rest of the day. If I could install one of these machines in my home I would do so in a heartbeat. Mornings have typically been cleaning, racking, pump-overs. Andrea always calls me for a coffee break at 10. At noonish, I head back to my apartment for an hour or so and make some pasta, have some fruit and cheese, or dried meats. This work requires energy! I am losing my “gym” bod but am getting something else – my weight hasn’t changed much, though, and some days I feel like I’ve even taken off. Strange to be losing weight in Italy.

While working, I take copious notes in a little Moleskine that Luciano tells me to pull out every time he has new cusswords for me. I think he loves that little notebook. He also has me write down all the piedmontese sayings that he uses throughout the day. Piedmontese is a weird mishmash of French and Italian, and I can sorta-kinda-somewhat understand it. For example, “don’t move” – “non muove” in Italian – is “bouge non” in Piedmontese. However, it comes out as “boojahnong” which makes things a wee bit more complicated. Usually, my brain is about 8 seconds behind the conversation, which is a lifetime at the speed these people talk. All of them talk so frickin’ fast. I must have a semi-intelligent face (???), because they all seem to assume that I’m getting every word they say perfectly. When it’s clear that I don’t comprehend, Andrea has the frustrating habit of talking louder instead of slower. I know that Americans do this with foreigners in the US as well – and getting it firsthand, I understand how perfectly annoying this is. I’m not deaf, dude, I’m just trying to understand.

By the way, Barbara does not like her picture being taken.

Afternoons we continue all the usual jobs, and if grapes come in we crush. The latest crush has gone on until 9.30. Typically, though, I get home by 7 or 7.30, have a glass of wine (dry cheap rosé from Sardinia is my new fave, especially at 3.75 euro a bottle), a few bites and a shower to get the grape gunk off, and am in bed by 10. I will read or write in the evenings. Some nights I go out with friends but am usually just too beat. I have been sleeping so incredibly well these last 5 weeks, in general. Insomnia only a few times so far, which is a marvel.