I always say I’ll taste anything once and this self-imposed refusal to decline sometimes gets me into some, err, interesting situations.
We’re on holiday in Calabria this week. It’s my first time in this part of Italy – the toe of the Italian boot, as it’s often described – but using that same analogy, the rocky outcrop where we’re spending the week is essentially a bunion near the tip of the toe. I don’t mean that in a negative way; from what I’ve seen so far, it’s a stunningly beautiful place. I’m enjoying stepping outside of my comfort zone too; new places, new people, new sounds, new smells, new flavours…
I don’t have time to read much these days but I told myself to make some time on holiday and so I chose Angelo Peretti’s newly released book “Esercizi Spirituali per bevitori di vino.” In the chapter called Apnea, it was a useful reminder to read the following phrase: “Quel che ti chiedo è di lasciarti sorprendere più spesso, e non mi riferisco solo al vino. Serve a ritrovare se stessi… Di bellezza ce n’è dappertutto, a saperla vedere. Se lì per lì non trovassi nulla che ti sorprenda, stupisciti almeno per il fatto che sei vivo. Essere vivi è di per sé stupefacente.”
Loosely translated, it means: “What I’m asking you to do is let yourself be surprised more often, and I’m not just talking about wine. It’s necessary to understand yourself… Beauty is everywhere, if you know where to look. If you can’t see anything that amazes you, let yourself be amazed by the fact that you’re alive. To be alive is amazing in itself.”
I diverge.
This morning, to avoid the worst of the Charon heat wave, I set off into town at 7.30am. In reality, that early start didn’t make much difference because when I arrived at the Pescheria-Gastronomia in Capo Vaticano at 8am, I was quite literally dripping with sweat. There was another reason why I got there early. I’d been tipped off that this fish restaurant unlocks its door when the owner arrives with the morning’s catch and sells to the public before the lunch service starts.
I asked what was good today and was told there was a beautiful tuna fish (I took four fillets) and a hunking great swordfish. A couple of generous handfuls of king prawns and two seabass for good measure and I was smiling ear to ear. While the owner was cleaning the seabass, I took a look at the bottles of wine sitting on shelves that the regular restaurant customers would choose from. Gaglioppo, Magliocca… there was a decent selection. I spotted a Greco, from a winemaker whose name rang a bell and whose label told me they are organic and also a member of Fivi. Worth a try, I thought, and took the bottle to the cash desk.
“Vuoi un vino locale? You want a local wine? My family makes wine too; you should try mine.”
I like propositions like this. Especially in a country like Italy where so many people have a direct connection to the land, even if it means having a couple of vines in your back garden. As a consumer, the unknown, the element of risk, but potentially of a great discovery. I was putting into practice almost immediately what I’d read in Angelo’s book.
“Do you want red, white, frizzante, rosé?” I am asked, roused from my daydream. “White,” I reply, conscious of how much fish I am going to be cooking over the next few days and still thinking about that Greco I wanted to buy.
And so that’s how I ended up with a bottle of vino bianco da Francesco. I have no idea what vintage it is – but I assume 2022 from the lot number L.17523.
He shows me his name Francesco written on the label and tells me that it’s been ten years that his family work this vineyard. A field blend, he replies to my prompt. It’s a 1 litre bottle with a crown cap and an amateur label.
Never judge a book by its cover, I think to myself, and remind myself of the pledge to try anything once. More pertinently, I didn’t know how to tell Francesco that I’d rather stick with my original choice. This man, after all, still had the best part of a swordfish sitting one metre away and I didn’t want to go down in history like the terrorist in London who was fought off with a narwhal tusk.
Well, I’m sorry to tell you reader that this will not go down as the discovery of the century. Vino da Francesco is a generic wine which has been doped with selected yeasts and then obliterated with sulfites. I’m scratching my head to taste the grapes that were pressed to make the wine. This is a shortcoming on my part because I’m used to a certain style of wine and this just doesn’t rock my boat. Maybe I should have tried Francesco’s rosé or red; given how I had tuna and swordfish in my shopping bag, they might have stood their ground against a more forgiving style and more typical wine for this region. That said, drunk very cold, a glass of this vino bianco did slip down paired with a spaghettata of aglio, olio, peperoncino. The rest, I think, I’ll use to cook with.
P.S. Two days later, I said yes to another oenological proposition… which was (fortunately) more satisfying. Read about it here 👇
Vino “del nonno” in Calabria
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