For this year’s COF2012 blogger project, we’re employing a “speed dating” format for the morning tastings so that more producers can have direct contact with the bloggers.
My highlight in this morning’s session was the 2011 (Tocai) Friulano by Jacùss. Even though the wine’s only been in bottle for a few days, I loved its classic, elegant aromatic character and its clean, super fresh nose. White and slightly under-ripe fruit in the mouth, zinging acidity, and delicate yet confident weight. #CouldDrinkThisWineEveryDay
“Friuli-Venezia Giulia to ration water,” read the headline of the Friuli-Venezia Giulia regional edition of the Italian national daily Il Messaggero on Saturday when I arrived in the region (see below).
“It hasn’t rained for months,” said winemaker Germano Zorzettig when he and I sat down to chat after the COF2012 bloggers went to bed last night (we’re all staying at his gorgeous Corte San Biagioagriturismo in Corno di Rosazza (province of Udine). “We haven’t seen anything like this in years.”
Rain is expected (and hoped for) here on Tuesday but the situation is weighing heavily on grape growers and winemakers here (and throughout Italy).
With the early arrival of warm temperatures, flowers are beginning to bloom and the vegetative cycle of the vines has already been set into motion. The current drought, combined with fears of an late spring frost that could stymie the vegetative cycle (with disastrous results), is causing a loss of sleep among the Friulian winery owners that we’ve spoken to so far.
Fingers crossed for rain on Tuesday! We’ll be here…
Valter Scarbolo makes wines in Grave and so there was no way for me to include him in the Colli Orientali del Friuli 2012 blogger project itinerary. But there was no way that I was coming to Friuli without spending an evening with him at his amazing Frasca. I’ll have to recount our conversation on Pinot Grigio and his 1995 trip — his first — to the U.S. in another post when I have more time. In the meantime, here’s what we ate…
As James Bond would say, “if it’s Prosciutto d’Osvaldo, you must have been expecting me.”
Rosa di Gorizia (Rose of Gorizia), a radicchio cultivar unique to Gorizia that resembles a rose.
White asparagus is in season. Valter served it raw, thinly sliced, dressed with extra-virgin olive oil and accompanied by delicately marinated goose breast. “It had to be extremely fresh,” he said, “to serve it raw like this.”
Riso nero Venere (black Venus rice) is a hybrid of Asian and Italian cultivars and, besides being delicious, is purported to have health-enhancing properties. Valter makes his with formadi frant, the truly unique, piquant cheese made from discarded and otherwise imperfect cheese — an ingredient that appears repeatedly in his cooking.
I asked Valter to show me the rice uncooked.
His My Time is always a treat to look forward to. The 2009 was unctuous and richer than previous vintages I’d tasted. And while it will undoubtedly become more elegant with some bottle age, its more muscular expression paired well with blood-rare pan-roasted and thinly sliced Prussian rumpsteak served with herbed formadi frant and montasio cheeses.
I’m posting this from the Colli Orientali del Friuli where the COF2012 trip has just begun… Stay tuned!
As I prepare to head up to Friuli today, there’s not enough time to post properly on the brilliant meal and stunning flight of wines. But here’s a “taste” of the “intellectual provocation”… THANK YOU, again, dear friends, Laura and Francesco, for opening your hearts to two weary Americans traveling along the wine trail in Italy…
Atlantic croaker sausage with mineral-water-macerated lettuces sous-vide
After another meeting this morning, I headed to the village of Panzano in Chianti to pay a visit to famed Tuscan butcher Dario Cecchini.
If you arrive at lunchtime (as I did), they hand you a little glass of red wine and offer you a small slice of bread topped with a spalmata (a schmear) of his spiced lard.
Note his signature boneless Panzanese steaks in the center of the case.
As fabu and glam as Dario is, his place is all old school, all the way.
Dario — a poet butcher — famously sang the death of the bistecca alla fiorentina back in 2001 when it was banned at the peak of Mad Cow pandemonium.
Across the street.
Springtime has come early to Tuscany, not a good sign for the vintage, especially with fears of drought running high this year. When I was out walking in the vineyards, you could hear the insects buzzing and there were lizards everywhere.
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain…
Above: A repast of hard-boiled eggs, piada (savory Lombard flatbread, akin to Emilia’s piadina), housemade gardiniera, and “peperoni bresciani,” brined “peperoni lombardi” that have been tossed with extra-virgin olive oil and freshly grated Grana Padano.
It’s not easy to describe the utter fatigue that comes with Vinitaly — for the exhibitors and fair-goers alike. For folks like me and Alfonso (who’s been coming to the Italian wine trade fair for 30+ years), you make the trans-Atlantic journey and then you hit the ground running as you attempt to fit in as many meetings and tastings as possible from early in the morning through dinner and beyond.
On the eve of the last day of the fair, I headed with my good friend Giovanni (who showed his wines at the fair) to Brescia, where we decompressed over dinner at the Trattoria Gasparo and later back at Giovanni’s place with a bottle of Camossi Franciacorta (vinified and disgorged by him) paired with Francis Lai and Truffaut.
Above: Valtènesi (Garda) Chiaretto was one of the last DOCs to be approved by Italian authorities before the EU’s CMO reforms of the Italian appellation system went into effect. At dinner we drank Giovanni’s brother-in-law Luca Pasini’s Chiaretto, made primarily with Groppello and macerated with skin contact for “one night,” hence the wine’s subtitle, “vino di una notte.”
According to a press release issued by the fair’s organizer VeronaFiere, “Vinitaly won its gamble and earned the satisfaction of exhibitors, with an increase of professional visitors from abroad and especially from the Italian horeca (hotel/restaurant/catering) channel.”
There may be strength in record numbers but the truth is that the execution of the fair was thoroughly disastrous.
On Sunday and Monday, when attendance hit its peak, a mishap with the wifi network at the fair caused fair-goers to lose all cellular service. As a result, you couldn’t call, text, or message in any format.
And because, once again, the organizers failed to address parking and congestion issues, fair-goers and exhibitors spent up to 1.5 hours every night just trying to leave the grounds.
Nearly every producer I visited with told me privately, è stata una fiera di merda (it’s been a shitty fair).
But despite the logistical challenges, my personal Vinitaly was rewarding and I have many tales to tell.
And, thankfully, the aches and weariness of an American in Brescia were soothed by the bubbles and saltiness of Giovanni’s Franciacorta and a tune from the year that Vinitaly and I were born…
Today I’m in Tuscany for a few meetings and Saturday I head to Friuli for the COF2012 blogger project. Stay tuned…
In the wake of the recent controversy stirred by my note on “Tuscan” soppressa, many of my friends and colleagues have benevolently chided me for the lacunate information posted here on the blog.
For the record, soppressa or soprèssa (as it is often spelled in Veneto) is a classic cured pig’s meat salame produced in the provinces of Verona, Vicenza, and Treviso (as well as in other areas of what was once called the Most Serena Republic of Venice).
Technically, for soppressa di be called soppressa, it must be produced using pigs raised in the production area (as in the official appellation regulations for Sopressa Vicentina, for example).
When I wrote “Tuscan soppressa” the other day, I was referring to the fact that my good friend Riccardo (below) — whom I know from summers touring with my cover band in the Veneto back in the early 1990s — produces his soppressa (trevigiana in its classification) using pigs raised in Tuscany. The secret to its supreme quality, he says, is the fact that he uses the entire beast, including the chops, the loin, and tender loin. In traditional production, the best cuts are reserved for other uses.
As a consummate venetophile, I certainly cannot blame my friends for the fun they’ve had at my expense. But now that I have published this errata corrige, I hope they will cease in their unwarranted derision.
And the end of the day yesterday, having completed our respective rounds at the Italian wine trade fair Vinitaly, we reconvened for a snack of Riccardo’s excellent insaccato — intestine encased — salame with our friend Sara Carbone’s Aglianico del Vulture – a brilliant however blasphemous pairing. (Btw, one of the unique elements of soppressa is that large cow’s intestines are used for the casing as opposed to porcine.)
Do Bianchi 