Family (1 of ?)

I had the wonderful and fortunate opportunity to spend this last week with my Italian family. I met my second Uncle Santi at the Venice train station before beginning our tour of the Veneto and also Sicily, where our family originated.

I felt completely comfortable going to visit the Italian part of my family; whether because I have only been hanging out with strangers for the last two months anyway or if because we share the same last name I can’t be sure. But there is something naturally comforting about sharing a last name with somebody and knowing that they had the same great parents that you had. It is something small and something which if one wanted could be meaningless. But that is why I was going to visit my Italian family to make relatives long gone and the places that they lived have mean.

Santi was more the hospitable taking an entire week off of work to tour me around his home town in the north of Italy and bring me to Sicily for 3 days to visit his brothers’ families…by the end I would realize that this is just something family should do. From the first moment I met Santi I sensed a pride and a happiness that I had come an that I was as interested as he was in Donatos getting together. Although our tour of the Veneto was wonderful I want to focus on Sicily.

We arrived and were greeted by Santis brother my other second Uncle, Nino. He drove us to his house for lunch and then drove us to their other brother Pinuccios’ house about and hour away . Pinuccio passed away two months ago and was the closest with my grandfather. They would talk almost monthly on the phone and shared many memories. We went to see his wife and young son. Even though lunch had just been had it was time to have dinner and so the Sicilian eating cycle began. I ate more during those three days then I ever thought possible. (side note: I can now speak enough Italian to get my point across and can understand 70% of all that is said if said slowly). I bring this up because I know that when I say, “No thank you I am full”, that I can be understood. Yet I always at meals I was given the largest piece of, the largest plate of, the deepest bowl of everything. And when I was full, truly bloated, there were always tricks or when those failed – force to get more food into me. The first time I would say “No”, to a culinary offering, I would be looked at like there was something wrong with me,  ”Was I not a man? And if so ,”Was I not a Donato?”, and then I would be asked again if I would enjoy some more, this time feeling slightly ashamed I would, “Of course I would”. The second time an offering was made and I declined, “Oh, we will just cut it in half”.  Well OK I would think at least it is a compromise, even though after eating the half I agreed to the other half would be offered as well. Then my favorite, if I really didn’t want to eat anymore, really at the barf point and I protested another food offering well the food would just be put on my plate for me. And at that point one does not have a choice because food in Sicily is not wasted. I thought that Italian mothers saying “Eat! Eat!” and pushing food was a stereotype, not so.

House cured olives, hand made sausage, garden produce, local fish….Oh My!

This is Part 1 of an unknown number on my Sicily trip.

Trento – A little America in us all

Sunday, Oct  19^th

Trento – Ferrari – Locanda Morgan

A little over a week ago I was picked up at the Trento train station and brought a few kilometers outside the city into the vineyards of Ferrari Spumante to work at Locanda Morgan (http://www.cantineferrari.it/en/149/Luoghi-Locanda-Margon.htm), the Michelin one-star restaurant that is owned by the winery. This place is sweet, only being a year old everything is still sparkling new and top notch from the get go. They serve dinner every day but Monday and are closed on Tues.

When I arrived we were all unsure of what I would be doing because of my Italian language problem so after two days of setting up for meals in the FOH and polishing glassware I was put into chef whites and told to shadow the Sous Chef. Although it was not what I expected, much like the rest of this trip, it was just what I wanted. I have never had the chance to work in a kitchen before and did not fully understand some the simple food preparations that take place every day.  I have been learning how to make stocks and pasta from scratch, how to season pasta water and cook pasta properly, how to keep veggies colorful when cooking them for a soup, ect. And although I cannot do this at a professional pace or with a professional consistency I know how to do them, and that will help me somewhere along the way and if nothing else in the privacy of my own kitchen. And I have enjoyed every bit of it.

I am living about 2 km from the restaurant in an old farm house with one of the other servers. Just like home I get to bike to and from work except here there is biking and running right out my back door too. Which, I take advantage of everyday. We have to report to work at 9:30 am at which point we usually make some stocks , bake bread, cut some veggies and just kind of get things going for the day. At 11:30 we sit down to have lunch which is pasta or risotto of some kind everyday and bread. Then like every other kitchen beginning or ending in Italy we sit around and have a caffé. After this back to prepping then we move into service. This can range from serving 6 people or 40 with 2-3 servers and always 4 cooks. During this time I am working as EXPO getting things in their place or just watching and learning and most importantly trying not to knock the truffle butter into the pasta water, again. Things are cleaned and wrapped up around 3:30 at which point everyone goes home to do whatever it is they do. I have been biking and running the mountain trails in back of our place for the last couple days. Man, is it great, fresh fall mountain air, the perfect temp for running and biking you always sweat but you never over heat or freeze from the moisture. This is the base of the Alps and Trento is right in a valley. The mountains here aren’t smooth instead they are spotted with white cliffs that run down the sides stopping and starting as they make their way to the river valley below. Creating steep climbing trails that quickly give way to ever expanding views that grow greater still as you quickly gain in elevation.

We all return for our family dinner at 6 pm and man what a spread this is. Always salads, meat (veal, pork, bison) bread, cheese, wine, man oh man!!! And all this after a great work out. Then we roll into dinner service where I expo and watch and learn how to cook. We clean up and get out by at 10:45 every day. Some nights we head out into town other nights we just have a beer at the restaurant and head home.

Last night we went out to a bar in the middle of an industrial park about 15 min outside of Trento called Gasoline. It is a Harley Davidson Route 66 themed place with Bud on tap. What a great scene. I know that in America this bar would be considered lame but here Oh NO it is a damn good time. Canned shitty Rock & Roll is fun and although Bud is not Pabst it’s good. The band that was playing was from Pittsburgh, PA and no one there could understand a word they were saying but people were getting off on the stuff. Like many different things from cars to house and food I think that we have so many choices in our country that we forget to enjoy whatever it is in front of us. Even when we have something good we think about wanting something else. We, I, all of us should just kick back more often with whatever it is because kickin back is the fun part who cares with what or who you are doing it with.

It makes me laugh that people put Europe on a cultural pedestal, “Oh, have you been to Europe, I love it over there”. Yet Italians look to us and say, “America, I want to go, it is a dream”. The Italians I have met enjoy America POP anything. Our movies, music, and culture of acceptance and openness. Miami is more popular here than it is in the US same with Las Vegas, no one I have talked to is thinking about making a trip to America for the Smithsonian and to see our Nations Heartland, nobody would even know what that is, they are coming here to have a good time and let it all hang out.  Young Italians want to party on the scale that MTV says we do but most are never given the chance, so when they think America they think NYC, Miami and LA, music, booze and bright lights, all about having a good time. So while I am here I am going to enjoy all the “shitty” American music on the radio, clap my hands to some honky blues and throw back a Bud.

The old fashion way

Just left Tuscany yesteday after working for the last four days on the farm of Guido Gualandi making wine sans machines. He is based out of Poppiano which is west of Florence by about 30 minutes. The only machines that we used were his car and a small pump – that was it. All of his wine are made organic and his house is sustainable as well, he has his own water, produces his own engery and all. All the grapes are picked by hand, crushed by hand, pressed by hand, punched down by hand and in some cases bottled by hand and we also moved two palets of wine by hand. A great experience and an amazing way to see wine be made. Afte traveling to wineries for the last month or so and seeing some really cool stuff it was amazing to see someone make wine so simply. Many wineries pride themselves on how much work they do sorting grapes nad they ultimatly make great wine. They pick by hand, which means they don’t pick grapes that aren’t ripe or have some kind of rot, then some sort the grape clusters once they get to the winery, then some others even sort the berries once they have been destemmed. Not Guido, he picks it all puts it in what looks like a plastic office trash barrel and then crushes it all with a 2 x4. After that he dumps the crushed wine into a vat and leaves it there for three weeks to ferment, grapes, skins, seeds, stems and all. He doesn’t add yeast as most wineries do and does no sort of pump over or punch down. AMAZING and the wines are great.

His idea is to make wine in the ancient way using ancient varietals and not doing any work that doesn’t make since or actually improve the quality of the wine to him. Over the years he has tried doing some of the more recent wine making ways and for him, they make no difference. So it is simple wine making the old fashion way. We even used one of the old presses, maybe 100 years old. I have only seen these as decoration around people homes usually filled with flowers. Really cool stuff, the o-rings for this thing are made from leather, that is how old it is. A lot more work but a great product and an amazing way to end my wine making part of the trip.

Now I have headed up north to Trento to do some restaurant work – a post to follow…

The Dude abides…

So being in Florence for the last 4 days has been great. I have had plenty of time to read, relax go to museums, cook and have some wine. At night I go out for a couple beers, watch some futbol and just kind of people watch. Yet the other night after a beer I began to think, “Man, this is a drag. I want to hang out with some people but not spend any more money and speak”. Not speaking Italian I had not had a full conversation in a day or so. You know, have a little friend hang out time.

Then there it was, as I was standing out in front of a bar. These four people got out of a cab with wine in their hands and I remember thinking, “Look at this, 10 at night and they are just getting started with some wine. They know how to do it”. Then the one girl turned around, ”You want to go to a party”? In one of those Hey are you lookin at me moments I began to look around. Who was this girl, where was she going and was she talking to me? “You want to go to a party, yes you”? Hell yes I did!!

Turns out she was talking to me and I followed her and her 3 friends complete with squirt guns and wine. I asked about the guns a couple times but couldn’t get an answer about why they had them. Eventually I commandeered one myself and let them all have it. A couple blocks down, then up some candle lit stairs to this party of about 25 people in this little attic apt. DAMN COOL TIME! Good music, MGMT is more famous then I ever thought, good food and a full open bar. Some good gulpable SB. Turns out it was some some sort of artist gathering and although over all everyone was kind of “artsy” the people I were with were determined to have a great time. We stayed and drank and danced until late then went our separate ways. That was it, fun and simple and exactly what I wanted and I didn’t even have to ask.

Just another example of things have been working out…the Dude abides.

Brunelloland

Just finished a three day stay in Montalcino. A small hill top top that is probably the most south that I will be traveling on this trip, except of course for Sicily. The famous wine produced in this region is Brunello, a 100% sangiovese wine with very strict rules on how it is produced and aged. I actually think that no other Italian wine making region has as many rules as Brunello, which is one of the reasons that the wine is so costly and often delicious.

One of the hard parts of trying to visit wineries in Tuscany is that they are spread out and there is no way to reach them if you don’t have a car. Except to walk, which is what I did a lot of. Through an American friend I had a meeting at Poggio Antico one day in Montalcino. I thought I would take a cab there not realizing that because Montalcino is so small that taxis are not ready and waiting. Instead there are only private taxis that will hit you up for 20 euro one way. And we are talking about a less then 10 minute ride. But I took a taxi anyway to the meeting not wanting to be late and planned on walking back. While meeting at the winery it was recommended that I walk to Sant Antimo first. A beautiful church built around 800. That is the year, WOW! I arrived after 1hr30min walk with the sun going down and a walk along the narrow curvy two hour road back to Montalcino awaiting,  didn’t look so good. So I stopped into the Catholic Book store to ask about buses. The sweet woman that worked there told me that there wasn’t any transportation back at that time of day. And then spoke Italian that I didn’t understand until she said be here at 6:30. I wasn’t sure why but I knew that it would provide a ride home. When I returned there was a friend of hers there who gave me a ride back up to Montalcino. A about 60 yr old Chilean man that worked in the church and was heading home up to Montalcino anyway. Thank you very much, to the two of you, whos names I never learned.

Through the contact that I met at Poggio Antico I was told to go to an enoteca to meet with a woman who had good contact with a winery that I wanted to go visit, Cerbaiona. I went to the enoteca and with nothing but a phone call I had a meeting the next day.

Diego and Nora

So, the next day I walked about 1 hr to visit Diego and Nora of Cerbaiona. The couple has been making wine at their Montalcino home now for about 30 years and man is it good and man are they great people. Diego used to me a pilot but he doesn’t like to fly anymore. When asked why he doesn’t like to fly even as a passenger he said that he rather be swimming, motioning to the pool outside.

When I arrived Nora welcomed me into their home to sit and talk and taste for a while till another American group came to taste with us. Nora is a lively, funny and intelligent woman that can hold your interest for as long as she wants to. I could have sat and talked with her for a very long time. Infact we did stay there for about two hours. At the end of which again I was offered a ride back up to Montalcino by the Americans that had also come to the tasting. Little different from the ride the day before as this car came with a private driver, very nice.

Now I have 6 days till my next bit of work and am going to hang out around Florence, cook some food, drink the wine in my backpack and smoke the cubans I have and relax.

So far this let things work themselves out mentality has worked itself out.

Montalcino…

Just arrived in Montalcino from Pontassieve where I was working at a vineyard for the last two days. The two days before I was in Florence visiting with the Markels. I was put in touch with the person I stayed within Pontassieve by a friend of Peggy’s’ that recommended me to the wine maker and owner of the property called, Altomena. This made me think. Everyone that I have met so far has been very kind to me: inviting me into their home, feeding me and over all doing their best to ensure that I was comfortable. Imagine the amount of trust it would take for you personally to invite a stranger into your house and show them a good time. Amazing, because I think that for most of us it would take a lot, yet I keep being introduced to people who are more than happy to do so. They all have different limits of course: some want very badly to make you part of the family, others give you space and allow you to do with it what you want, while others say make yourself at home.  But the gesture that they are making the meaning behind it is all the same, you are traveling I am offering you a place to put your head and if you don’t mind I can show you a place that I am proud of in the mean time.

Then this made me think more, I am very trusting as well. I am traveling in a country where I am just starting to learn the language with all my valuables on my back, I really don’t know where I am day to day but I am also willing to go with people that I do not know. It is what I want and is why I came here in the first place but it too involves a high level of trust. When traveling to wineries or to houses of people I have met in the states this is easy but going to stay with friends of friends of friends made me realize that trust comes from both sides. And normally after the first few hours, like meeting your dorm mate freshman year of college you start to treat each other like good friends because it is that or a weird couple of days. And I too in turn do my best to respect the space they have given me. Simple things: keeping all of my clothes neatly put away in my back pack, never leaving anything of my things in the bathroom, and always making my bed. Also, if allowed to work I work my ass off. Although I am not being paid in Euros what I am being paid in, the trust and welcoming, means that I have to work over time.

I also have hit a point in my trip where I am not sure what to do next. I have one week between appointments and don’t know what to do. The weather has just changed here, one day it was 85 now it can’t be over 55. Glad I brought my winter hat. I am staying here in Montalcino for the next three days just to relax and live as cheap as possible while trying to enjoy the best wine possible – sometimes a difficult balance. During that time I will look at a map and see where a small place to go is, maybe someplace south and a little bit warmer.

In the mean time I know that there is a market here in town tomorrow where I hope to pick up some goods for the next couple of days. I have a tasting at Poggio Antico tomorrow as well at 2:30 and then Sunday who knows. I have uploaded some pictures for you as well. There are just a few here the rest are up on Facebook, check em’ out!

 

Moscato grapes in CanelliMoscato VineyardsTuscan Hillside from my bedroom

Long lost Internet…

So yes, it has been a while since I have written last..sorry but harvest is a lot of work, more the I ever thought possible. Gave me a whole new respect for wine. We all know that wine comes from grapes but did you know IT COMES FROM GRAPES!!! I mean hectares upon hectares that all are picked by hand then taken to a winery to be processed and loved unti they are all grown up into wine. The work is amazing.

When I left off I was in Turino then heading to Barbaresco to meet with a wine maker here Renato from Cantina del Pino, who had a friend that needed help with harvest. So I went to Canelli the home of Moscato (the sweet wine with bubbles) to work with a family there, www.cusmano.it.

The Cusmano family gave me a room in their home and put me right to work in the fields. Picking Muscato and Brachetto. I worked with them for 10 days and man was it a lot of work. Sometimes 12 hours a day or more. Not only picking in the fields but also working in the cellar. This was the best part. I was not only helping to bring in the grapes but also hepling making the wine. When I say helping it was more just lending a hand. Cleaning this, moving that, doing pump overs, mixing yeast and pushing grapes into the press. Very rewarding work and it turns out that the winemaker is 25 just like me so we got along great. And at night time we would go hang out with his friends. So I got not only the wine but also the young cultural experience. It was the perfect situation he was interested in American and I in Italy so we would talk forever. I would help him with English and him me with Italian.

I wrote down a memory or two every day so here they are from the journal -

• Drinking just enough Campari at a bar over a river and talking wine with someone I had just met in half Italian half english, then going to taste the wine the next day together. (Turns out this guy makes some of the best natural flour in Italy – www.mulinomario.it)
• Making Moscato d’Asti while listening to Gangsters Paradise – a badass song for a badass wine.
• Watching an amazing lightening storm from the door of the cantina – bolts going sideways all night!
• Italian billards – I have never seen this before but there are tiny bowling pins in the middle of the table and you have to knock them over but first you must hit another ball with the cue ball, there are points involved and other things. More techincal – and drinking 23 year old grappa while playing. Although I still do not like Grappa the appreciation keeps going up.
• There were slow times in the cellar so we made a game – throwing rocks into a can from 20 feet away. The can was like a can of corn and you had to get the rock right in for 10 points or knock it over for 5 or do both with the same rock for 15. When we stopped I had 90 points and Danielle the winemaker with 75.
• Have you ever stuck your head into a tank of fermenting wine – don’t!!! It burns like hell.
• This guy walks into his house one night with a sheep under his arm. His wife is sitting there watching TV. He says, “This is who I F@@K when you have a headache”. She says, “What are you talking about?” He says, “Shut up, I was talking to the sheep”. Joke told to me one night.
• Also, the two brothers that I was working with had a friend that worked on the radio station. So one day when we were picking and listening to the radio he dedicated a song to them and their friend from Denver, Colorado (said with and incredible accent). That was just cool.
• One day we were making Brachetto -listening to CAKE – which is a grape that makes a big mess. There is a lot of skin and pulp and ect in the juice. So we were trying to use a new high tech filter that they had just got but the juice was way to dirty. So we ended up using a centrafuge first to get out all the big stuff. This machine was from 1960. A beast all made of very thick steel, ended up producing this wine mud that we need to scrape out with a little shovel. Amazing!
• Everyday we stopped working at 12:30 to have lunch and wine. I have not eaten this well in a long time.
• Also my last night there Papa Cusmano had a harvest party for everybody that had worked during the harvest. It was great. 20 people all drinking and eating. I stood over the grill most of the time drinking bubbles and eating right off of it. The grill was top notch, not charcoal or flames but a piece of granite over the flames. Perfect.
• The days hot the night very cold – perfect for grapes and beautiful fog.

The family that I stayed with was so great to me. Treated me just like family. I could not have asked for more. And they really helped me with my Italain which is coming along slowly. Now I can understand alot that is said but am not yet able to speak. I hope by the end that I can at least get my point across in coverstaion. Regardless when I get back I want to continue with my Rosetta Stone lessons so that when I do return I will be all set.

Now, I am back in Barbaresco and will be heading out to Florence on Monday to meet with friends from Boulder and explore Tuscany. On the 4th I work harvest again on a small winery in Montespertoli. Then up to Tretino on the 12th to work in a restaurant, I hope. Right now I am trying to get a work VISA so that I can do it. We will see what they italian government says.

Now I think that I am going to sleep for a day or so. I hope to write again soon and will post pictures the next go around as well.

CD

And when I awoke…

5/9/2008

I left Denver at 8:15 pm on Wednesday and arrived in Milan at 8:15 pm on Thursday with not one problem. But I almost didn’t make it out of the airport. Going through passport check, the gentleman on duty asked me how long I was going to be staying, I should have said one week but instead I said three months, I blame jet lag. To confirm that I would actually be leaving at some point before 90 days he asked to see my return ticket, which I didn’t have. After some debate and mentioning over and over that it was a family visit, that I would leave before 90 days and that I cannot wait to experience all the wonderful things here in Italy he shook his head, gave me the sign of the cross and said, “In America  no, uhn?”, and gave me the stamp. This trip is now dedicated to that man, grazie mile mi amici.

When I got to Milano I went right for some pasta carbonara and a couple of beers before passing out.

It is interesting to be here with no real schedule. Time loses meaning and you walk a lot. I went out yesterday morning with no real idea of what I wanted to do or where to go but just walked until I found the perfect place, perfect for what I am not sure but in that moment it says, “Hey you, get over here and sit down”, and I do.

Yesterday there were lots of those moments, I spent my whole day looking for them.  The first one was in the morning in Milan. It was a small café where the barista gave me my first Italian lesson. “espresso”, I say, “Che?”, he says, “espresso”, I say, “ah, ESpressO, ESpressO”, he says. This went on throughout my ordering until I pronounced everything with a lot more flare then I ever thought possible. Coming here I studied what I could of Italian, alone in my room at home, never actually in conversation. I now realize then when I speak Italian I do it with restraint, believing that all the word stresses are somehow an American video game invention, “Its’ a me Mario!!” Not so. All those ups and downs and vowel stressing is what makes Italian Italian.  After I had had my ESpressO, he gave me some more lessons which I took but was pretty hopped up on caffeine and had to try hard just to focus.  Even through all of my cappuccino training back home the stuff still gets me going.

Arrived in Turino yesterday afternoon and got right to looking for another perfect place. Walked through the middle of town, over the river Po, around a cathedral and down a side street till I found it. A little wine bar/shop, had a glass of Greco di Tufo, 10 minutes later I was talking to a French woman and we were off walking through town. We stopped at a place for aperativi , happy hour – free snacks with a glass of wine or beer, asked our server where to go next. The French woman and I parted ways and I followed our servers directions, not to a specific place but to a general area. Walked around for a long time bought some coppa, ate half the coppa, walked some more till I found a place for dinner. 

So far I have found that wine in big cities has been something that is not as uniformly a big deal as I thought it would be. There is plenty of it, but that is not what I mean. Coming to Italy I imagined, ignorantly, that ALL Italians would drink local wines with pride. It would be drunk often and with conviction, slinging bottles would be second nature. I am sure many do but not in the places I have visited yet. Its more, “Wine, ya we got that”.  The restaurant last night had it on tap – I think that is pretty cool, no one knew exactly what was in those kegs of wine it is just red or white. Again, cool but I ended up getting a cheap bottle of Arneis with dinner instead.  I thought that would be normal but my server gave me the impression that someone getting their own bottle of wine was pretty bad ass, when I looked around only one other table was having wine – by the glass. Oh well, I see many more bottles in my future.

My server told me that I should go to Piazza Vittorio Veneto for young people and drinks. He was right 100s of them, but I was sleepy.  I hung out in the square, watched people, ate more coppa and realized that these people were just getting started and I had a long walk back.

 

 

The Right Place

I am going to starting writing once I get to Milan on Wednesday.

 

That is in 3 days, SO EXCITED!!!