Above: Yesterday afternoon, in broad daylight, thieves busted our front door down and burglarized our house. Today, a piece of plywood covers the entrance to our home.

Our house was burglarized yesterday by two men who brazenly busted down our front door in broad daylight.

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Culling from his à la carte menu, Chef Paul Qui — Top Chef winner, Uchi alumnus, etc. — created a superb tasting menu for us last night at his eponymous Qui in Austin.

But the best dish — for reasons that are wholly self-explanatory (see above) — was the chitarra-shaped long noodles that he prepared for our daughter Georgia P and tossed with freshly grated Parmigiano Reggiano.

You wouldn’t think that Chef Qui — a nationally acclaimed chef who knows the heat of the celebrity kitchen and the bright, glaring lights of reality television — would care about the “little people” who dine in his restaurant.

But this dish alone, which Tracie P and I both slurped down as well, was enough to make our experience there one of the best dinners in recent memory (and I have had some pretty extraordinary meals this year).

The way we were greeted and treated, with a toddler and newborn in tow, was just the first indication of the humanity and brilliance of his hospitality, a first taste of the wholesome and delicious food that would follow.

After dinner I asked Chef Qui about how he achieves the freshness and avoids the freeze-dried flavor in the raw fish he serves.

“It has a lot to do with the way the fishermen handle the fish,” he said. And simply put, “it has a lot to do with how much you’re willing to pay.”

The quality of the yellowtail sashimi was simply thrilling.

The texture of the baby octopus was like a gummy bear. In this dish, the quality of the materia prima was rivaled only by Chef Qui’s deft hand in how he delicately sautéed the cephalopod. Compressed, intensely flavored watermelon played counterpoint to its gentle saltiness.

Wine director and general manager June Rodil needs no introduction from me: she’s one of the brightest stars of the Texas wine scene and she’s one of the few Austin-based wine professionals who lands in the national wine media on a regular basis.

With every one of her lists, she’s impressed me with her ability be au courant with the international wine dialogue despite the obstacles that the Texas wine industry can pose for buyers like her.

Tracie P and I LOVED the 2006 Foreau Vouvray Sec (June knows how much we love classic Chenin Blanc) and the seven-year-old wine had just the right balance of freshness and muscularity to go with the sea- and landfood that appeared before us.

Skimming through her focused, tight list, I found so many wines that I would have loved to have drunk: López de Heredia, Scarbolo Pinot Grigio Ramato (this is what I’ll drink next time), and Gaudio Barbera del Monferrato Bricco Mondalino (I DIG that wine).

The noodles appeared again in the “pasta curry style,” with fresh herbs and Thai eggplant. This dish was stunning and the Chenin Blanc made for a dreamlike pairing.

The plat de résistance was the Dinuguan, pork offal and pork blood braised until melt-in-your-mouth. I was blown away by the lightness and elegant flavor of this traditional dish from June and Paul’s childhood (they’re both Filipino-American). And once again, the Chenin Blanc delivered its delightful freshness with just enough umpf to work well with the richness.

The gnocchi were tender, with delicate but consistent texture. I couldn’t talk Georgia P into eating any Dinuguan but she loved the dumpling.

Chef Qui (above) and sommelier June, we love your restaurant. Thank you for a truly wonderful evening!

Above: A drawing of “La collina dei Cannubi” (“Cannubi Hill”) by Eugenio Comenicini, 1981 (reproduced from Martinelli’s monograph Il Barolo come lo sento io, 1993). Ruling in the favor of one of the appellation’s largest wineries, the Italian government has overturned a sentence that prohibited misleading labeling of wines produced from grapes grown in adjacent vineyards.

According to a post published today by Luciano Ferraro, wine editor for the Italian national daily Corriere della Sera, eleven Piedmontese grape growers have lost their battle to maintain authenticity in the labeling of wines produced in Barolo.

Since 2009, the behemoth Marchesi di Barolo winery has lobbied and petitioned Italian regional administration officials to allow for an expansion in the labeling of wines made from grapes grown in vineyards adjacent to the famous Cannubi vineyard, one of Italy’s most prestigious growing sites.

In June 2012, Italy’s Regional Administrative Court (TAR) ruled against Marchesi di Barolo and in favor of the eleven producers who had contested the expansion.

Marchesi di Barolo owner Ernesto Abbona subsequently appealed the sentence to the Italian agriculture ministry.

According to Ferraro’s post today, based on a statement released by Abbona, the Italian Council of State has overturned the ruling.

(Read Walter Speller’s reporting of the events that led up to the decision [on Jancis Robinson’s blog, August 2012] and read my post from November 2012 here.)

In the wake of the Italian government’s decision, grapes grown in the vineyards known as Cannubi-Boschis, Cannubi-San Lorenzo, Cannubi-Muscatel, and Cannubi-Valletta can now be used in wines labeled simply “Cannubi.”

“This sentence delivers justice to the lavish efforts of my family,” said Abbona in his statement. “Since the end of the nineteenth century, we have grown and vinified Barolo grapes that were produced by estate-owned vineyards in Cannubi and my family has been the artist behind the promotion of this extraordinary hill” (translation mine).

In 2010, as Abbona was mounting his efforts to expand labeling and to include the adjacent vineyards, David Berry Green (scion of historic British wine merchants Berry Brothers & Rudd) wrote the following on his blog:

“Ernesto Abbona, President of heavyweight Barolo producer Marchesi di Barolo (1.6million bts), is cast in the Machiavellian role making a final desperate grab for vineyard rights. Pitted against him are a band of small growers – let’s call them partisans! – defending the honour of an historical site, Cannubi, row by row, bunch by bunch.”

The eleven growers who had tried to block Abbona’s expansion efforts were the following: B. Mascarello, Serio, Brezza, Camerano, Drocco, Damilano, Einaudi, Fontana, Sandrone, Scarzello, and Carretta.

I’m still catching my breath after more than two weeks on the road. I have many tales to tell from my trip to Italy and have many posts in the queue for next week. In the meantime, here are some harvest updates that people have sent me or that I have culled from the internets.

From Ar.Pe.Pe., Valtellina:

“Our harvest will probably start only around October 21st, so we will still have to be patient for a while! [This week] it’s been rainy here, so we apologize for the rainy photo! We had a fantastic weather until Saturday [of last week], so maturation [ripening] is proceeding extremely well and a bit of rain was also much deserved by the vineyards.”

From Carussin, Monferrato (Asti), who sent the photo without note (but the image speaks for itself; can’t wait to taste that Barbera!).

Loved this photo of newly harvested Vin Santo grapes, grabbed from Alessandro Bindocci’s blog, where he’s been posting regularly on the harvest at the Tenuta Il Poggione in Montalcino (his blog is probably the best in terms of frequency and regularity in posting).

I visited there last week and have my own report to post (next week) but in the meantime see Hawk Wakawaka’s excellent post here (highly recommended).

That’s all the news that fits… for now… stay tuned. Now it’s time to take my daughter to lunch!

Remember the “bacon candy” at Lou’s excellent wine bar Lou on Vine in Los Angeles?

I couldn’t help but think of those sweet nuggets when my friends and I were served masanete col coral last night in Venice terra firma (mainland Venice): it’s the time of year when the lagoon’s she crabs have already mated and they are full of sweet roe (called coral because of their bright orange color).

Posting in a hurry from the Frankfurt airport this early morning but have so much to tell about my trip…

Now I just can’t wait to wrap my arms around those beautiful ladies of mine back in Texas.

See you on the other side…

Flying from Brindisi to Rome today, I managed to snap these photos as my plane hugged the Campania coast.

That’s Mount Petrino (Mondragone) in the photo above. I thought it was interesting to note how the cloud pattern mirrors the mountain chain.

In the distance to the south, you could see the Neapolitan islands of Procida and Ischia (where Tracie P lived for nearly five years).

It’s always thrilling for me to be on domestic flights in Italy on clear days like this one. It really helps to understand Italy’s unique topography.

One more night until I get back to my girls… I can’t wait!

The often inexplicable vicissitudes of life found me on my own for dinner last night in Lecce.

And honestly, that suited me just fine. I ate a pizza and drank a beer at 8 p.m. and was in bed by 9:30, just what I needed on the night before the night before I head home to Texas.

It seems that every one of my Italian sojourns includes a dinner for one in a workaday pizzeria. And I always look forward to it: it reminds me of my years as a student here, when a pizza and a beer were a treat that aligned with the economic outlook of a hopeful Italian scholar.

At the pizzeria around the corner from my hotel, tee gee OO-noh — the evening news on the RAI1 national television network — was blasting. The owner graciously offered me a table for one, with a view of the televisore (the correct word, btw, for television set in Italian).

Things in austerity-era Italy are really rough for average Italians. And they’re only getting worse: once again driving his own agenda (this time, his bid to nullify his tax evasion conviction, which was upheld by Italy’s highest court), Berlusconi is forcing the Italian coalition government to collapse.

In our exhilaration of all things Italian, we often forget that these are extremely trying times for average Italians — grape growers and winemakers among them.

As one grower noted during my trip, the only ones surviving (surviving, she said) are those who sell their products outside of Italy.

Cum granu salis… sprinkle some extra salt on your pizza tonight (a napoletana, with capers and anchovies), I thought to myself. Remember the bitterness.

In other news…

Where would we be without her? Rest in peace, Marcella Hazan.