A little over a year and 125 blog posts ago, I started Brunellos Have More Fun. Also around this time, I was settling into my cozy digs at Casa De Conciliis, working my very first harvest and beginning what would be the most marvelous adventure I’ve ever had. I’m feeling a bit nostalgic. So, I’ve decided to get retrospective and share some of my very favorite photographs from that magical time (and the posts that they accompanied). I mean, can you get better photography inspiration/subject matter than Italia??
Sit back, grab a glass of vino and enjoy.
It’s Raining Pasta- Sunday morning with a family in the kitchen. Happiness.
Looking back over all these words and photos and memories, my heart aches (more than) a little. The people I have been so lucky to know, the laughs and stories shared, the glasses clinked and bread broken, the utterly breathtaking landscapes I have been able to experience…
If I never get back to Italy ever again, these could fill me with happiness for a lifetime.
It’s that time again….that little aching in my heart and my stomach has returned. I miss Italy. It happens every few months (even though I was just there 5 weeks ago!) It’s like that boyfriend- a first love, if you will- that you can just never forget about. That you always compare everything else to. And that creeps into your thoughts like a stealth ninja. A ninja that dangles perfectly cooked strands of handmade pasta and creamy rounds of gelato in your brain space. Ok ninja- you won. I am officially craving every dish I have ever eaten in Italy. Like right now. I scrolled through the old iPhoto in search of all things salivating. I thought I would share. You’re welcome.
I could eat homemade pasta raw. Seriously. Ok- maybe not. But I LOVE it.
A typical lunch break during harvest time at De Conciliis. Cooked by Nonna Rita.
The best fritto misto of my life. In Paestum at Nonna Sceppa.
I had a great year. There is no denying that. Mostly due to a spectacular summer in Los Angeles followed by an even more spectacular solo journey through Italy. Also known as “the trip of my dreams.” In keeping with the obligatory New Year’s blog post of something along the lines of Best Wines of the Year, My Top Ten Bottles of 2009, etc. I thought I would take a look back at some of my favorite drinking experiences as seen through the lens of my Blackberry’s handy little camera. It is, dare I say, a Brunello Behind the Scenes. Perhaps, True Hollywood Story: Brunellos Having Too Much Fun. Maybe even True Life: I’m ubriaca. I shall end there, lest I get carried away.
But, to further clarify, I say favorite experiences and not favorite drink or wine or bottle because sometimes the best glass of wine has not so much to do with what is in the glass but everything outside of it. It is the company, the laughs, the stories told, the favorite neighborhood bar, old friends reuniting, new friends being made, impromptu guitar solos and heavenly pasta dinners. The level of enjoyment of the wine and of the moment fuse together, simultaneously enhancing the other. So, without further ado…
The magical mojito from the Bazaar in Los Angeles. Followed by one of the more interesting dining experiences I've ever had. Proof of artistic expression and innovation on a plate and in a glass.
The staple of my summer at my favorite bar seat in town, Pizzeria Mozza. This was a Bastianich refosco rose from Friuli.
Plastic cups and lambrusco. I know how to make it classy. In the first days of my trip in Italy with one of my best friends. We were starving and had our aperitivo hour furnished by a campsite grocery. It was cheap, delicious and entirely satisfying.
A not at all unusual lunchtime spread while working the harvest at De Conciliis. That day was the pinot noir battle in which we raided Bruno's cellar for 3 different pinots: one from Italy (1998 La Palazzola), one from France (2005 Domaine d l'Arlot) and one from Oregon (2006 Drouhin). Italy won! And we were not at all biased, of course.
A Saturday night lamb bbq at my boss Bruno's home where we proceeded to open up 8 different fantastic Italian wines (and way too much grappa). At the end of it all, he stuck his knife in the neck of the winner (we liked having competitions, if you couldn't tell.) A 2005 Langhe Nebbiolo from Bartolo Mascarello.
No, not me. Not just yet. But about 1,000 bottles I labeled heading for California. As I sat in the warehouse applying my 832nd label sticker of the day, I thought “maybe i should document this.” If not only to be informative, then to at least momentarily cure my boredom. In a small winery, sometimes the wine is bottled and left unlabeled. When a large order comes in, the bottles are then labeled according to the country and importer. And at De Conciliis it is all done by hand. Yes people, by hand. So, here it is: a step by step peak into how a bottle gets packaged and ready for shipment.
// < ![CDATA[ var gaJsHost = (("https:" == document.location.protocol) ? "https://ssl." : "http://www."); document.write(unescape("%3Cscript src='" + gaJsHost + "google-analytics.com/ga.js' type='text/javascript'%3E%3C/script%3E")); // ]]> // < ![CDATA[ try { var pageTracker = _gat._getTracker("UA-10308209-1"); pageTracker._trackPageview(); } catch(err) {} // ]]> Today is my last day in Campania with De Conciliis. I am sad to leave this beautiful place [...]
// // I am in Italy and It’s September! I’m excited. But, my enthusiasm is not due to gelato/pasta-induced comas or the ever increasing ability to wear long sleeves and jackets. No, I am beaming with delight because it is that magical time of the year in the world of winemaking. And the busiest time [...]
