Fine wine legend and revered wine educator Kevin Zraly (above) led a seminar for about forty people yesterday in New York at the annual Benvenuto Brunello tasting, where the Brunello di Montalcino bottlers association previews its new vintage (2008, this year).

I managed to catch about 45 minutes of his talk before I had to head to the airport to return to Texas.

The choice of Zraly to lead the seminar was not without controversy. And some in Italian wine circles have noted that there may have been others more qualified for the gig (at least one Italian wine industry observer has ranted about the fact that Zraly has been, at times, dismissive of Italian wines).

While he didn’t really talk much about Montalcino, its history, its subzones, or its legacy in the world of fine wine, he did say that “it’s one of his favorite wines,” a category that he reaches for on “almost a daily basis.”

“It’s one of the top ten ‘value’ wines,” he said.

In my view, that’s an odd way to position one of Italy’s finest wines and most coveted appellations.

His seminar and tasting seemed to be focused more on his unique “basketball coach” approach to tasting wines and personal anecdotes from his life (he would be leading a master class with Piero Antinori later in the day, he said).

Zraly has a classic “New York” personality: he’s an intense man, who often insulted the crowd for not being more vocal in their response to his promptings.

As he put it, this was going to be a tasting of “Brunello di Montalcino, Zraly’s way.”

Stefano Campatelli (above, left, director for the Brunello bottlers association) and iconic Brunello producer Donatella Colombini (right) were also in attendance.

Donatella said a few words and Zraly repeatedly asked Campatelli for help with the pronunciation of some of the winery names.

I do think there’s something to be said for having a marquee name like Zraly on the bill for this event.

But, all things considered, he really didn’t reveal much about Brunello other than the fact that he enjoys it (and maybe that’s all that really counts here).

In other and sadder news…

Our hearts and prayers go out to the Mastroberardino family, who lost its son and brother Lucio this week (see this obituary by Elisabetta Tosi; I took the above photo of Lucio at Vinitaly in 2009).

I wasn’t a fan of his wines but I admired his work as an ambassador of Campanian wines in the U.S.

His legacy is not without controversy: his quarrel with his brother Piero (with whom he divided the family’s historic vineyards and winery) and his American-style approach to winemaking were often cited by Italian wine observers as one of the less savory episodes in the industry.

But his contribution to raising the awareness of southern Italian wine in the U.S. cannot be ignored.

And our family sends our thoughts and condolences to theirs for the loss of a star of southern Italian wine at such a young age (he was my age).

From the department of “so much to post and so little time”…

Still one more day to go and one more night before I get back to my girls in Texas.

My time here in the city has been wall-to-wall, back-to-back, and otherwise chiasmatic meetings, tastings, and meals.

I’ve got so much to post but it will all have to wait until I get back to the place where I belong.

One of the highlights of this trip was tasting with Doug Cook (above, left) and Nicolas Contenta (right), my friends, countrymen, and fellow sufferers of Italo- and oenophilia.

Thanks to everyone who came to the show on Saturday and thanks to everyone who’s taken time to taste and chat with me.

And in the meantime, hello I must be going…

When I arrived last night at I Trulli in Manhattan for an aperitivo before dinner, the whole Marzovilla mispucha was just sitting down for dinner.

From 3-6 p.m., family matriarch Dora and her son Nicola had served guests the same menu that they serve at Dora’s house for Sunday dinner: all the classic antipasti, like homemade gardiniera and sottaceti, housemade cavatelli and orecchiette, braciole and meatballs…

I wish I would have known!

I couldn’t resist 2007 Valentini Trebbiano by the glass at a great price (Nicola imports it so he has the best pricing I’ve ever seen on these wines, among my all-time favorites).

Paired brilliantly with Dora’s panzerotto, stuffed with chard and anchovies. So good…

And of course, for dinner, I couldn’t have just one of the pastas so I asked the waiter to prepare a tris of cavatelli with broccoli raab, orecchiette with rabbit ragù, and malloreddus with classic ragù.

I love and have always loved the restaurant and for my money, it’s the best housemade pasta in the City (and great Nebbiolo list).

The brunch crowd had only just begun to roll in on Sunday when I arrived at Reynard at the Wythe Hotel, the much talked-about Natural wine junkie hangout (that set into motion a series of posts last year on wine lists that silver-haired dudes can’t understand).

The clientele grew more cosmopolitan as the room filled up with hotel guests and a hip Williamsburg eisteddfod.

But when I got there, there were just three ironically bearded,* heavily tattooed men sitting at my corner of the bar. They were reading books. In the case of the man sitting next to me, he was reading Orwell (and although he did tell me that his omelette was “good” when I inquired, he was otherwise uninterested in engaging in conversation). Two of the men wore knit caps.

I ordered a glass of the In Côt We Trust by Puzelat and the burger (rare), as I marveled at what is a dream list for people like me and my crowd, folks who love and seek out Natural wines from France and grower Champagnes. If I still lived in New York, I’d probably move to Williamsburg just so I could hang out there regularly: the space is Parisian bistro, the food was fairly priced and well prepared, and my server was professional, polite, and informed (he also had an ironic beard and a lot of tattoos).

My only lament would be the list’s Francophilia. I only spotted two Italians (the Coste Piane Prosecco [Colfondo] in magnum would be a great bottle for a party of four or more).

And I wonder if the people who dine there truly appreciate the extraordinary list. Does Côt pair well with Orwell? I guess I’ll never know.

When I stepped outside and I headed back to the train, I found myself in Lena Dunham’s gaze, as she looked down on me from a oversized billboard for her show “Girls.”

As I aimlessly wandered the streets of Williamsburg, amid tourists who followed maps in guides to the hippest locales, I couldn’t help but wonder, does life imitiate art or art imitiate life?

Aaaa, it doesn’t really matter, does it? As long as the Côt is crunchy and the burger juicy.

More New York stories coming… Heading to the Slow Wine Tasting later today at the old Fernet Branca building…

* What’s an “ironic beard”? It’s a beard that was not grown and groomed in earnest. Rabbis, for example, have “earnest beards.”