Italia Day 5 - Vino Nobile di Montepulciano

Yeah, so I’ve had this mentor since I was 21.

He’s about to retire from the insurance industry, but I imagine that won’t change a thing. I talk to him almost everyday and he’s taught me alot about insurance, business, and most importantly, everything you need to know about Italy. He was here with a bunch of us last time and introduced me to no less than 20 people in the different cities I visited. I’ve gone to see many of these people on this trip and it’s bananas how many of them remember me, and know as many things about Dan as I do.

One of the things Dan taught me about was wine. I’m a tough student when it comes to wine because I don’t love it as much as some people do. I’ll have a glass in my apartment with my sister after work (self loathing is the most important meal of the day), or at a dinner when surrounded by friends. In general, however, I find I usually prefer beer or the ol’ tried-and-true vodka and soda (Boy can I toss those down the hatch). Alas, I do know enough about wine to know what I like and why. I prefer red wine, and I like Sangiovese grapes. For about 5 years I’ve insisted that my favorite wine in the world is from a winery called Avignoesi. They make a blend called Vino Nobile di Montepulciano that I LOVE. It’s about 20 bones a bottle and it tastes like little angels made it. Doesn’t make me tired, doesn’t make my teeth red, makes me feel warm , friendly, and fuzzy…the whole bit. I was thus very excited to visit the Avignoesi winery in Tuscany on this trip. It’s one of the things I haven’t had the chance to do yet.

Here’s the thing about wineries in Tuscany. They’re friggin’ impossible to find. My Ma and I drove around in our rented Fiat Panda (look it up…and laugh) for 2 hours trying to find this damn place that should have only been 20 minutes away. Further, we learned that when you are in Tuscany, you are about 17 times less likely to find a person that speaks English…at all. It is here that I learned that Italians with limited English-speaking capabilities are easily overwhelmed by my overbearing personality and are thus very likely to give me bullshit directions so as to get me the hell out of their lives. Needless to say, we were sent on many a wild goose chase that day.

Just when my Ma was ready to throw in the towel, we found the winery. We walked into a deserted room that smelled like freshly cut wood and was filled with various Avignoesi products. I really nice lady that looked like she was dressed for an African safari came out and greeted us. We signed up for the complete tasting, plopped down at the big table, and got ready for the ride.

It goes without saying that this lady is a very good friend of Dan’s, and once I name dropped that fool we were ensured a fantastic afternoon. Actually Laurenza was wonderful and I have no doubt she would have treated us like family anyway. Nonetheless, I can’t imagine it hurt.
Yeah so here’s the thing about wine tasting: When you spend hours driving around aimlessly and thus forget to eat, little sips of wine gets you pretty buzzed. It didn’t help that I was all nostalgic being in the actual winery that makes the very wine I’ve drank during some of the most fun evenings of my life. She taught us all about Sangiovese grapes and how they grow and how the wine ages. Apparently 2007 was a Sweet-Baby-Jesus year them and thus the wine is sold in these special edition limited-production bottles available only at the winery. A few glasses in my Ma and I were like, “Yeah! Let’s buy a bunch of this!” Because you know, that’s a totally good way to spend a buttload of Euro and we totally had enough room in our already overpacked luggage.
I just want you people to know that as I sit on the damn train typing this here blog, I am resting my feet on two overstuffed bags filled with wine that I have NO idea how I am going to get home. I think I might have to declare it or something, whatever the hell that means.
After forking over the dough for a bunch of wine we can’t even really drink for a few years, we headed back to the walled city of Montepulciano. I think this was my Ma’s favorite place. It looks a lot like the other walled towns in the area but it is a bit bigger, livelier, and they have some really great shopping. First stop was the leather guy my friend Jackie told me about. It smelled like dead cows in there (in a good way) and he had some really beautiful stuff. Being that I am as picky about purses as I am about my men, I was unable to purchase anything…this time. I’ll be back though. There is a perfect shoulder bag for me, of this I’m sure. Then it was off to Dan’s friend Ceasare, who is the craftsman behind Bottega Rama, one of the most successful copper goods stores in Tuscany. Rick Steves is all about this guy. He’s like 4th generation copper smith or something. I got some little handmade hook things for my apartment (for keys and whatnot), while my chef mother got a bunch of shit for her kitchen.
Check out how lame our NEXT activity was.
Um, so the second Twilight movie was largely filmed in Italy. Apparently the vampire government is centered there. Well, it was supposed to take place in a small city called Volterra, which is close to Florence and apparently has a lot of old legends about vampires. For reasons I am not sure of (nor do I care to Google), they filmed in Montepulciano. The piazza they filmed in was only a few streets over from the metal guy, so I dragged Mama Sue there so she could let her tween-freak flag fly. She won’t admit it but she was totally stoked.

We headed back to the hotel in Pienza because I needed to stick my face in a pillow for a few hours before dinner. Wine, shopping, and yet another brush with Twilight will do that to you.

I hear people say the all the world is a neighborhood. I learned that was true this week as I arranged for our dinner that evening. See, the restaurant we were going to, La Porta in Montechiello, is owned by a friend of Dan’s (well, actually a close friend of all of ours now), named Daria. Daria happened to be in New York this week, where Dan was also visiting. Thus, Dan, my sister, Daria, and a few other Italy friends met up in NYC for dinner and wine while my mother and I hung out at the restaurant in Montechiello with Daria’s daughter Debbie, and the rest of the people that run the place. Debbie is my age and knows her shit. She recommended us the best dish we had ever had: spinach and cheese ravioli with a marscapone sauce topped with truffles. Y’all know how I feel about truffles. Dinner that night was quite the event. We could even see the balcony of our room at the hotel located just a few ‘hills’ away. Indeed, Tuscany is a quiet place that functions like a series of small towns. I remember being surprised that so many people I know had been there, yet it was so empty. Is there a tourist parade I don’t know about?

We got home late that night, giving me only just enough time to put out those pre-Thanksgiving work fires and type a blog or two. We sat on the balcony for a bit, laughed our asses off, and finally went to bed. At this point we had no idea what city we were going to head to the next morning…