weekends with adolfo

as you might imagine, adolfo did not live for his job as a school printer. instead, his reason for being, as many middle-aged italian men's, was wine. adolfo had a network of wine contacts in the piemonte region that seemed almost mafioso in its breadth and ability to procure the latest riserva.

"pssst," adolfo whispered at me one day while i was lining up my class to take them back from their library time. "i can get you and your boyfriend good deal on new barolo, on a case. you want it?" as caroline prowled by, he scurried away, hissing, "come by later, i tell you more."

adolfo took a shine to me and tommy, as he did to most of the younger american teachers from the school, and so we became privy to some of the best weekend journeys of our time in italy: adolfo's weekend wine trips (TM).

the weekend wine trips involved as many as 15 or 16 of us packing in any car we could find, sometimes four to a backseat (in an ITALIAN CAR; our willingness to do this should foreshadow somewhat how particularly awesome and worthwhile these trips were), and driving up to two hours from milan to a random town in the piemonte region of adolfo's choosing. adolfo and his silent, gray-bearded and bespectacled friend, whose name i've forgotten, would sit up front in one of the cars, occasionally puffing away on cigarettes and leading the pack first to lunch, then to a winery.

and oh, the lunches. don't get me wrong - adolfo was a wine man, first and foremost - but he had spectacular knowledge of exactly what little random trattoria off a seemingly-desolate highway would serve the best truffles, the most succulent sage and butter ravioli, the sweetest rustic pine nut tart. he arranged these meals beforehand through his mysterious foodie network, miraculously making it such that a) the restaurants were thrilled to receive a bunch of clueless americans, ushering us to our tables with cries of welcome, pouring us fuller-than-usual glasses of wine and shaving extra truffles on top of our pasta and b) we never had to pay more than 30 euro for meals that often went above six or seven courses. at one restaurant in neive, i believe, i had my first taste of carne cruda, or raw meat, italian-style. i was extremely skeptical of the idea of eating what basically looked like a pile of raw ground beef, but, when in neive, etc. and it was delicious - brined in a bit of lemon juice, with a dash of excellent olive oil. i've never had it since, and my mouth waters every time i think about it.

stuffed and dizzy and tipsy from these meals in various towns at the foothills of the alps, we'd then make our way to a nearby winery. they were invariably run by a close friend of adolfo's who would give us private tours of the cellars, letting us run our hands over giant oak casks, then setting out a selection of cheeses and bread while we sipped various barolos and barbarescos and dolcettos d'alba.

at one place where we stayed late into the evening, which was incredibly charming despite the bizarre display of stuffed squirrels on the stone walls, the owner also set out a selection of grappas for us to choose from. i know, i know. grappa. the evil drink. but we had to try, and i drank one that i actually liked. some grappas had sprigs of rosemary or other herbs floating in them, and this one had a sprig of something unidentifiable, so i asked the owner in italian what it was.

he pulled me outside, down the driveway, as i thought, "maybe this is roofie grappa?" but then he pointed me towards a shrub on the ground and said that that was the herb that was floating in the grappa. i asked what it was called, and he pronounced it some word i didn't recognize in italian. i questioned him more on what it was, and we went back and forth without coming to a resolution.

finally, smiling, he said, "bush grappa."

"ahh," i said. "bush grappa." good enough for me. especially when the winery ended up selling us all several cases of delicious wine at discounted prices. turns out being young and american in italy can, once in a while, earn you more than locals' derision.

of course, tuscany is the best known region, deservedly, when it comes to wine, food and charm. but don't count piemonte out. especially if you want the best deals on barolos. i know a guy who knows a guy...

you can read other rambly entries of mine about italy here (matera) and here (stromboli).