The amphora of the future is here (in Oregon’s Chehalem Mountains)

What an incredible visit yesterday to Andrew Beckham’s pottery studio and winery in Oregon’s Chehalem Mountain AVA!

That’s Andrew above with the first full-size winemaking amphorae that he’s churned out of his kiln (above and below).

He’s produced a video about the project that you can watch on his family’s winery’s site here.

I had already tasted and admired some of the excellent wines that he and his wife Annedria produce there. And it was exciting to taste through their full line of wines, including their wines vinified in his smaller hand-thrown amphorae.

He may be the only amphora potter cum winemaker on the planet and it was fascinating to hear his insights into why the vessels make for such a unique winemaking tool.

Lovely people and extremely compelling wines.

The Slow Wine team has been on the ground here all week and today we have our big panel tasting. I’ve been blown away by the caliber and quality of the wines I’ve tasted over the last few days. And the hospitality and food have also been fantastic. It feels like Oregon, between its old and new guards, is poised to reshape the way the world perceives American wines. Andrew and Annedria are undeniable stars of that growing wave.

Writing in hurry this morning as I prepare for a BIG day of tasting. Wish me luck and wish me speed… Thanks for being here.

Don’t miss the tripe at Nick’s Italian Cafè in McMinnville #SlowWine #Oregon #Willamette

Posting on the fly this morning as we head out for another day of touring and tasting in the Willamette Valley.

It’s our second day on the ground tasting for the 2019 Slow Wine guide, which will include Oregon — for the first time ever.

Our day ended yesterday in one of Willamette’s wine epicenters, the wonderful little town of McMinnville where de rigueur we ate at the legendary Nick’s Italian Cafè.

I loved the restaurant and it was a true pleasure to get to chat with Nick himself. The tripe (above) was off-the-charts good.

We even learned Oregon wine pioneer David Lett’s favorite dish there. And man, our tasting at the Lett family’s Eyrie Vineyards was truly extraordinary! Thank you again, Jason, for a unforgettable visit!

So much to tell, so little time… Stay tuned!

Portland mon amour (the #SlowWine Oregon project begins)

What a fantastic American city…

Slow Wine editor-in-chief Giancarlo Gariglio and I spent the better part of yesterday touring Portland with our senior editor for Oregon, Michael Alberty (one of my favorite people in the wine writing biz). We were scouting locations for the Slow Wine tasting that we will present here in February 2019. It will be the first guide to include the wines of Oregon and it will be the guide’s first time in Portland. We are super geeked…

One highlight for me was our visit and tasting at Jacobsen Salt Co. (above). Really cool stuff.

Of course, no visit to PDX would be complete without a stop at a coffee bar. We went to Coava, which was lovely.

The aperitivo hour found us at the newly opened Enoteca Nostrana (get the warm oyster dip). Owner Cathy Whims’ celebrated restaurant Nostrana next door was packed. But the hosts managed to squeeze us in a for a great dinner. It was my second time eating there. It’s one of my favorite restaurants in America.

For our night cap, we headed to Jeff Vejr’s amazing wine bar Les Caves.

All in all, in was a pretty awesome day in this west coast outpost for American food and wine culture (thank you, again, Michael, for arranging our visits and showing us around your wonderful city).

This morning we’re heading to wine country where we’ll be touring and tasting for the guide for the next three days.

Stay tuned… And thanks for being here.

Italy driving tips: beware the ZTL! The “zona traffico limitato” or “restricted traffic area”

Above: a typical “zona traffico limitato” or “restricted traffic area” sign in Montalcino (photo by my good friend Laura Gray of Il Palazzone, producer of Brunello di Montalcino). In some of the bigger cities, the zones are demarcated by LED signs that read “ZTL” (acronym for “zona traffico limitato”).

Monday’s post on driving in Italy (“Italy driving tips: speeding tickets, tolls, international driver’s permit, Waze, DUIs, wi-fi, etc.”) generated a lot of engagement on social media. I’m glad that folks have found it useful and I appreciate all the feedback and input.

A friend from my La Jolla High School days, Adriana, left a great comment on the post with tips on city driving in Italy (she lives and teaches English in Bologna where she and her husband have raised their lovely family). It’s chock-full of good intel.

A lot of folks on social media also shared horror stories about receiving tickets after inadvertently entering a “zona traffico limitato” or “restricted traffic area” in a city center.

The “zona traffico limitato” or “ZTL” is a delimited area within an urban center where only residents and authorized drivers are allowed to travel by car. They are monitored by cameras that report offenders to authorities. The fines can be steep and are often compounded by rental car processing fees and late fees for those who don’t pay on time (depending on the city, the office issuing the ticket may or may not be lenient with foreigners who only receive the ticket after the deadline to pay has passed).

There’s a lot of useful information on the internets about the dreaded ZTL.

This post by Auto Europe (rental car agency) is one of the best and it includes excellent maps.

It came to my attention via another really useful post by Italy Beyond the Obvious.

I wasn’t surprised to learn that Siena claims to have been the first Italian city to implement a ZTL back in the 1960s.

The bottomline: don’t drive into city centers in Italy. Park in paid parking lot on the edge of the city (every city, including Siena and Florence have them) and then walk or take public transportation (a fat cab fare is always better than the cost and hassle of a ticket).

For my last night in Italy earlier this month, I had planned to meet my dissertation advisor, the Milanese poet Luigi Ballerini (more on that later), at his home in downtown Milan. I took my rental car back to the airport and then took a 30-minute-or-so train ride from the airport to the city center. No stress, no worries about parking, and I caught up on email on the train.

My advice is avoid city driving, especially when you visit the smaller urban centers, like Parma or Siena, for example. Take the train, a bus, or a taxi into to town. Removing that layer of stress makes the visit all the more enjoyable.

Thanks for all the great feedback, everyone! I’m so glad people have been finding the post useful.

In other news…

Wow, Philip Roth’s passing really hit me hard. It marks the end of an era in American letters.

He never wanted to be pigeonholed as a “Jewish” writer. But for many in my generation and the generation before mine, he gave American Jews a new vernacular to express our identity.

He was, first and foremost, an American. And he was also a model of the immigrant experience here and a role model for the American intellectual, socially and politically engaged without ever losing sight of literature’s greater purpose and human calling.

There have been so many great tributes published over the last 24 hours. But one of my favorites is this one by Roger Cohen for the New York Times.

“How [Roth] dazzled; how he delighted,” wrote Cohen today. “I often laughed out loud, not least at the speculation of Portnoy’s father on how he might overcome constipation: ‘I remember when they announced over the radio the explosion of the first atom bomb, he said aloud, “Maybe that would do the job.”‘ Laughter stood at the heart of Roth’s liberating gift.”

The passage says so much about my parents’ generation and it says so much about the world I grew up in. His humor taught us how to laugh at ourselves, even when the world seemed (and seems) to be crumbling around us.

Enjoy the Memorial Day long weekend, everyone! We’ll be playing music, drinking Bele Casel Prosecco Col Fondo, and raising a glass to Roth at our house if you care to join in… have a great weekend and a great summer. Thanks for being here.

Nature doesn’t refine sugar. But refined sugar goes into your sparkling wine.

Earlier this month, a group of leading Italian wine writers sat down to taste a flight of nine wines, spanning 10 years, with my friends Nico Danesi, Andrea Rudelli, and Giovanni Arcari. Beyond their own wines (Arcari e Danesi, SoloUva, and Vezzoli Giuseppe, a 2008-2018 retrospective), the three Franciacorta growers and producers also included current-release wines from three marquee Franciacorta estates, covered in foil, to be tasted blind that evening.

The idea behind the tasting and selection of wines was to highlight the differences between wines made using the classic method and wines made using what the three 40-something franciacortini call the SoloUva (SOH-loh-OO-vah) method or Just Grapes method.

The classic method is analogous to the Champagne method (the fundamental difference is that only wines grown and vinified in Champagne can be rightly called “Champagne method” or méthode champenoise wines).

A “base” wine or wines are produced as still wine or wines (non-sparkling). A sweetener and yeast are added to the wine (or blended wines) to provoke a second fermentation (the tirage). The wine is sealed in bottle. The CO2 resulting from the pressurized second fermentation gives the wine its fizziness. The wine is then allowed to age “on its lees” (i.e., the dead yeast, a solid that results from fermentation). At the appropriate time, the wine is “disgorged” of its solids. It’s topped off with a sweetener if desired (the so-called liqueur d’expédition or dosage). And the wine is resealed and labeled for release.

(The above description of the classic method is a simplified one. For one of the best overviews of classic method winemaking, see the introduction to Tom Stevenson’s World Encyclopedia of Champagne and Sparkling Wine or the entry for “sparkling wine” in the Oxford Companion to Wine.)

The difference between the classic method and the SoloUva method (developed by my friends) is that the classic method calls for refined sugar to be added for the tirage and dosage (topping off) while the SoloUva method calls for reserved grape must to be used as the agent for the second fermentation and the topping off of the wines.

Among the wines that Nico, Andrea, and Giovanni selected from their own cellar for the tasting, there was a dichotomy: two of their wines had been produced using the classic method; the three “blind” wines from other producers were also made using the classic method; and the remaining seven wines were made using the SoloUva method.

As they tasted through the 12 wines before them, the Italian writers immediately noted the blaring difference between the two categories: the classic method wines had distinctive aromas of “brioche,” “yeast” (a canonical descriptor, however misleading), “toast” etc.; the SoloUva method wines had “fresh” fruit aromas.

The discussion that followed (on picking times, phenolic ripeness, and different approaches to sparkling wine production) was as interesting as it was provocative. But it was plainly clear to all present that the oxidative style of classic method wines was starkly contrasted by the fresh and ripe fruit style of the SoloUva method wines.

Nico, Andrea, and Giovanni are not the first to employ reserved grape must as a sweetener in sparkling wine production. But they may be the first to propose such a method as a “purer” expression of their appellation.

Why add exogenous (as opposed to autogenous) cane sugar from Brazil when you can use grape sugar from the very same appellation? they asked their interlocutors.

When they call into question the wisdom of centuries of classic method wines from France, they may be veering from the enological into the ontological. But over the course of the gathering, Nico changed the nature of the conversation when he pointed out that refined sugar doesn’t occur in nature. Only humankind produces refined sugar, he noted, and refined sugar is partly to blame for many of contemporary society’s health challenges.

Nearly all sparkling wine is produced with the addition of refined sugar (and not just classic method wines; Charmat, Martinotti, and even some ancestral method wines are made using refined sugar). Wines labeled dosage zero, brut nature, and pas dosé are also made with the addition of refined sugar (some may be surprised to learn this).

Only history will reveal whether or not Nico, Andrea, and Giovanni’s wines will represent a new era of sparkling wine production. I like their wines a lot. But take my opinion with a grain of salt spoonful of sugar because I am biased by our friendship. What I can tell you for certain is that their wines don’t contain anything that nature didn’t give them.

All they need is grapes…

Here’s a song I wrote for them a few years ago (MP3).

Mother nature is yours and she is mine
And the tender grapes she grows on the vine
She gives us the earth, the sun, the sky
But it takes humankind to make the wine so fine

Two wineries from Soave that you’ll want to taste

In logology, it’s called “multiple discovery,” the notion that distinct cultures often produce similar and nearly simultaneous scientific discoveries unknowingly and independently of one another.

The phenomenon came to mind as I walked the halls of the third annual Vulcanei tasting in the Colli Euganei outside of Padua a week ago Sunday. Organized by the Colli Euganei Consortium, the tasting brings together hundreds of wines that have been raised in volcanic-rich subsoils: Campania (mostly Irpinia), Sicily (mostly Etna), Greece (mostly Santorini), and Veneto (Soave and Colli Euganei).

When I told some of my more-savvy-than-the-average-punter Italian colleagues that “volcanic wines” were all the rage in the U.S., they were as surprised as they were unmoved and unimpressed. It seems — at least to me — that the interest in these wines has emerged and developed on either side of the Atlantic free of international contamination (thus disappointing would-be diffusionists).

It was my first Vulcanei and I was blown away by the range and scope of the wines. And the massive Colli Euganei offering alone would have been worth the price of admission.

One of my biggest discoveries (however not multiple) was Le Battistelle (above).

What fantastic wines, with vibrant fruit and rich but not overpowering minerality! Organically farmed, family-raised, and with lovely hand-drawn labels, these wines have all the right stuff to appeal to the American market. I believe a few bottles have found their way to California but none of the mid-sized importers of natty and groovy have picked up on these gems. I hope one of them does soon.

When I pointed the wines out to a superbly experienced taster in our group of wine professionals, he noted how these wines taste like “real Soave” and not the many trumped up wines that the appellation seems to favor these days. I really loved every wine I tasted from Le Battistelle — wholesome and delicious.

Another one of my big Soave discoveries on this last trip to Italy was Filippi, an estate that has already generated buzz among the American enocognoscenti but still hasn’t landed with an importer here.

These gorgeous wines are focused, smart, and electric with aroma and flavor. I had the wonderful opportunity to taste with the winemaker at the Arcari + Danesi/SoloUva “Friends in Wine” event in Franciacorta a week ago Saturday (it was also a birthday celebration for my bromance Giovanni Arcari). Like many young growers in Soave, he’s taken over his family’s vineyards and has been making his own wine instead of selling the fruit to the cooperative. Similar to what’s happening in Langa, it’s a trend analogous to the “grower Champagne” movement from the late 1990s. And we’re all going to be the better for it.

I am really smitten when Filippi’s wines, from the entry tier to the flagship single vineyard bottling. I know it’s just a matter of time before they get snatched up by an American importer. I just hope it’s the right one. Great wines and great folks.

Oh and about that wild party in Franciacorta?

Here’s what results from a little “day drinking” (as we call it in Texas):

Italy driving tips: speeding tickets, tolls, international driver’s permit, Waze, DUIs, wi-fi, etc.

When you work in the wine trade like me, it’s almost impossible to avoid renting a car when you travel to Italy.

Italy’s big cities have fantastic public transportation. And the inter-city rail system is also wonderful.

But when you travel to wine country, there’s really no other way to reach your out-of-the-way destinations than by motor vehicle.

I just got back from a two-week trip to Italy where my main means of transportation was an Avis rental. Here are some insights that I’ve gleaned over the years and on this last sojourn.

– get an international driver’s permit.

I’ve never heard of anyone having problems when traveling without one but I have heard that some rental car companies are refusing to rent to people who don’t have one. I get mine every year at AAA. It’s super easy and takes just a few minutes. Why risk it?

– manual transmission is the standard.

Many people are surprised to learn that you have to make a special reservation for an automatic transmission cars (and it costs more). Stick shift is the norm in Italy.

– nearly all rentals are diesel.

Every car I’ve rented over the last 20 years has been diesel. Fuel, in general, costs about four times as much in Europe. When you go to the gas station, “diesel normale” (regular diesel) is the way to go and that’s what the attendant will ask you when she/he fills your car (look for “servito” at the pump if you want

– pay freeway tolls with your credit card.

Look for the “Carte” sign when you roll up to the toll-booth when exiting the freeway. When you enter the freeway, you’ll be prompted to take a ticket. When you exit, use the lane with the “Carte” sign (like the one above) and just insert your ticket and then wait for the prompt to insert your card (the automated voice will ask you to insert your “tessera,” which means “card” in Italian). You can get a receipt by pressing the button labeled “ricevuta.”

– observe the speed limits and expect hefty fines (that will catch up to you!).

Italy, like all of Europe today, has strict enforcement of speed limits. The limit in small towns is 50 kilometers per hour and the speed cameras WILL catch you. If you do get a ticket, the car rental agency will charge you for a processing fee and you will probably receive a hefty fine (180 euros and above) at some point down the road. It’s a pain to pay it (see this post on speeding tickets). I know at least a handful of people who have been denied at rental agencies because they have outstanding tickets. Here’s a good Wiki with info on speed limits and other traffic laws, in Italy and across the EU.

– use Waze if you have data coverage.

I don’t even go to downtown Houston these days without using Waze. It works really well in Italy and one of the coolest things about it is that it alerts you to speed traps and speed cameras.

– Italy, like all of Europe, has zero-tolerance for buzzed and drunk driving.

A lot of folks probably don’t realize this but buzzed driving is actually legal in the U.S. I learned that when I was in a jury pool on a drunk driving case in Texas a few years ago. Europe has ZERO TOLERANCE for buzzed and drunk driving and there are random check-points everywhere. Even one glass of wine takes you over the legal limit (no joke). I’ve never heard of an American being arrested but I have heard of extremely severe penalties for buzzed drivers in Italy. When you go out to a restaurant and expect to drink, a designated driver is a must.

– Autogrills often have good wi-fi now.

I love Italy and the Italians and I have made a career out being a student of Italian culture (including viticulture). But, man, the wi-fi situation there really sucks. Autogrill is the ubiquitous freeway cafeteria, fast food, and gas station in Italy. And many locations now have solid wi-fi. On this last trip, I ended up spending two hours at the Cantagallo Autogrill just south of Bologna on the A1 freeway after my hotel in Siena left me without wi-fi all morning.

These driving tips are by no means exhaustive or comprehensive. My insights are based on my own travel experiences and are by no means an official representation of driving laws, norms, or best practices in Italy or the EU. Having said that, I hope they are helpful. The last thing you want is for the stress of driving to ruin your trip to Italy this summer. My best advice: observe speed limits religiously and NEVER drive buzzed or drunk.

Our children, our times…

Yesterday, our family attended a fund raiser for our children’s public elementary school in Houston, Texas. The day before, less than an hour car’s ride to the south, children and adults lost their lives in yet another unspeakable tragedy.

When the right to bear arms bests children dying in our schools…

When the right to wave a flag bests the dignity of those it offends…

When the right to wealth bests the neediest among us…

When the right to succeed bests others’ deliverance from despair…

When race bests community, when creed bests Moses’ law and Jesus’ word…

When complacency bests opposition to injustice…

When indifference bests love…

Who are we?

Boccaccio’s Marchioness of Monferrato, an ante litteram #MeToo icon

Above: A detail from John William Waterhouse’s “Decameron” (1916). In Boccaccio’s Decameron, young Florentines flee the Black Plague, taking refuge in the countryside and telling each other stories to pass the time. It’s one of the greatest works of Italian literature and it includes one of the earliest mentions of wine in Monferrato (image via Wikipedia Creative Commons).

As I whittled away at my post today for the Barbera consortium blogging project (“Fit for a King: The first mention of Barbera d’Asti?”), it occurred to me that the main character in Boccaccio’s novella “The Marchioness of Monferrato” is an ante litteram #MeToo icon, not to mention an extraordinary gourmet.

For two years now, I’ve been working on my own research on wine in Boccaccio and (what I believe is) its essential role in the Tuscan humanist’s Italian masterwork. And so it was only natural that I would take a philological paring knife to the description of a feast in the tale and try to uncover what Boccaccio meant when he wrote of the “excellent and precious” wines of Monferrato (where Barbera is famously grown today). You might be surprised by my close reading of the text.

Please check out my post here.

Rereading the text for the umpteenth time, I realized that it had never dawned on me: in using her wit to repel the unwelcome advances of the king of France, who uses his position of power to corner her while her husband is away, she is an early feminist and #MeToo icon. Especially when read in the context of courtly love and its code, she is a victim who rises above her times and cultural hegemony. She subverts that code by means of culinary and convivial artefice, making the tale even richer in meaning in my opinion.

The tale is a shorter one and it will take you just a few minutes to read it (in English here). The ending is even more powerful, I believe, when read in the light of gastronomic wokeness.

Thanks for reading. I just got back an exhausting but great trip to Italy. So many wines and adventures to share! Stay tuned and please come out and taste with me and Alicia tonight in Houston… Thanks for being here.

Taste with Alicia Lini and me Wednesday @VinologyHouston

It seems like a lifetime ago… It was back in 2006, while I was still living and working in New York, that I helped to bring Alicia Lini’s wonderful Lambrusco to the U.S.

I couldn’t be more thrilled to share the news that her family’s wines are FINALLY available in Texas.

She’s one of my best friends in the wine business and I’ve been giving her a hand as she expands her brand’s presence in the states.

On Wednesday night, she and I will be pouring three of her family’s wines at Vinology (one of my favorite wine bars) in Houston. Please join us.

In other news…

It’s enough to make a Jewish mother proud: last night the Italian Association of Wine Shop Professionals made me one of its official ambassadors. The title came as a complete surprise to me but it couldn’t have arrived in a more ideal setting — the Euganean Hills, my special place in Italy.

More on that later. But I’m about to head out for a very special evening in Milan with my dissertation advisor, the Milanese poet Luigi Ballerini. I’ve been looking forward to this evening for many months and there couldn’t be a better way to end this truly amazing trip to Italy…

Thanks for being here and hope to see you on Wednesday in Houston!