I developed this technique while studying at the Italian Sommelier Association (AIS).

Every wine lesson began with an ingredient.

Lemon slices. A bar of chocolate. A crust of toasted bread.

You can’t smell the grapefruit notes of Sauvignon Blanc if you don’t know actually now what grapefruit tastes like.

We learn smells like we learn language

Aromatic compounds are the molecules that tiny receptors in our nose and throat transmit to your brain, where the olfactory nerve interprets them. This happens instantaneously.

Our brains have a library of smells and a dictionary of words.

Most of the time we speak without thinking. We aren’t constantly translating thoughts into words in our own language. That’s because our language brain and our scent brain develop in the same way.

They build memories based on our emotional responses.

We feel something, we make an association (with a word or a smell) and it gets imprinted in our brains.

The science is far more complicated, and I will happily recommend plenty of books on the science of smell and language learning if you ask me.

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So how do I get better at smelling?

What you’re trying to do is recognize and describe aromas. The first step to do this is build your scent vocabulary.

Find anything nearby. Fruit and vegetables are great, they are raw materials.

For this exercise, anything will do. A sharpened pencil. An old book. The underside of a couch cushion.

You can do this walking around.

Think of it like a meditation. What time is it? Does the ground smells different in the morning? Try to be as present as possible, especially with your nose.

Cut grass. Burning leaves.

1. For each thing you smell, try to remember where you’ve smelled it before, or make an new memory or association.

2. If there are other smells that join the chorus, take note. Do you also remember sounds, sensations, or flavors?

Cut grass takes me straight back to summer school PE during high school.

I was too busy taking musical theatre classes to get that physical education in. So come June, I joined the other theatre nerds bright and early for outdoor sports. The earth was still condensing in the morning sunshine. Cut grass was also fresh mud, Secret deodorant, and sweat.

Dead leaves is Halloween for me.

I remember them crunching under my feet walking up the sidewalks to trick-or-treat.

I remember the smell of softened milk chocolate, a crinkly metallic scent, medicinal and powdery tartness that dissolves on contact, and waxy, honey-like sheen.

I remember the rigid plastic handle of a plastic-pumpkin-shaped bucket. It left a groove in the palm of the my hand and the edges around the opening were rough enough to scratch our fingers.

I remember feeling frustrated that I had to wear a coat over my costume, and I miss the days when I didn’t feel cold on a rainy late-October night because fun mattered more.

3. Write it all down. Preferably by hand. Textures, colors, sounds, flavors, and memories.

Studies using EEG and fMRI scans show that writing by hand lights up extensive connections across the visual cortex, sensory processing areas, and throughout the brain. The physical act of forming letters forces your brain to slow down and process the information.

Studies suggest that writing on paper creates a physical and spatial layout (an idea on a page, the feel of the pen or pencil, and the pressure of your hand). The motor- sensory feedback anchors the memory more firmly.

How to Smell. Literally.

Close your eyes and inhale. Short deep sniffs work best. Think about where you are now. Does this smell remind you of anything? Where were you? How did you feel?

Maybe this is the first time you are paying attention.

Keep a journal.

As I write this, someone next to me is eating smoked almonds (which reminds me to order some for myself).

What does the smoke actually smell like? It’s sweet, but not mesquite sweet. More like dried fruit.

It also reminds me of wet red paint on wood. Sometimes smells have colors.

Test yourself.

The next time you open up a bottle of wine (Sauvignon Blanc is a good example), take your time. Get get your nose in glass. Does anything pop out? Any split grapefruits, freshly mowed grass, or mango peels?

You can do this exercise on your own any time, but wine is better in company for a million reasons.

Campare notes. Compare memories and stories.

Here’s an episode on the subject from my series, 21 Days to Wine.

VINTAGE VIDEO

Happy smelling and happy Halloween!

xoxo,

Annie

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

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Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

La cucina romana, Roman cuisine, as we know it today, has little to do with the city’s origin story.

Since its founding, Rome has absorbed the cuisines of the cultures it conquered, and forged its own brand of cucina povera—cuisine born out of scarcity.

Il quinto quarto (the fifth quarter) famously refers to the organs typically tossed by the butcher—brain, intestines, heart, and kidneys for example. They all play a role in Roman cuisine.

There are entire books written on it, including Katie Parla’s recent release - a comprehensive history and cookbook.

While flatbreads have been documented as far back as ancient times, and rice and has been around forever, pasta is a relatively modern addition to Italian cuisine, Rome included.

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The Big Four

Carbonara, Gricia, Amatriciana, and Cacio e Pepe.

They all overlap with variations of cured pork cheek (guanciale), black pepper, and pecorino cheese.

You’re likely familiar with Spaghetti alla Carbonara (bacon and eggs), and even more likely familiar with cacio e pepe. The sheep cheese and black pepper pasta sauce swept the States a few years back, creating a craze and inspiring thousands of viral video content.

Bucatini (or insert other pasta) all’Amatriciana rarely shares the spotlight, and I’m fine with that. I’ll happily cover it here. No need for think pieces or $30 versions at trendy NYC joints, or g-d forbid another bucatini shortage!

What sets Amatriciana apart from the other three is the presence of tomatoes—another ingredient that joined Italian cuisine following the empirical conquests.

You absolutely must try Amatriciana in Rome or give it a go at home. It never disappoints. Here is everything you need to know.

Once Upon a Time in Amatrice

Amatriciana takes its name from Amatrice, a mountain town that was once part of Abruzzo, and only later annexed into Lazio, the region surrounding Rome.

Italian regional cuisine is a history lesson most of the time.

The dishes from the Apennine mountains reflect the area’s long sheep herding tradition. Cured meats and hard sheep cheeses stayed fresh during the seasonal migration from the higher altitudes to the lower lying plains.

Gricia, also known as amatriciana bianca (white Amatriciana) likely originated here too. It’s essentially the same recipe, minus the tomatoes. The nearby town of Grisciano may explain the name.

Both recipes made their way to Rome, which speaks in equal parts to history, geography, and immigration.

I can’t even count the number of people I’ve met here since 2001, who call Rome home, but still have relatives in Abruzzo.

The largest waves of immigration from Abruzzo to Rome took place in the 19th and 20th centuries. That’s given the dish plenty of time to settle into its adopted home, and even drop the A.

Matriciana is almost as common as All’Amatriciana on Rome menus today.

Anna de Angelis: Mamma Amatriciana

Local legend attributes the dish’s popularity to one woman in particular, Anna De Angelis.

Anna arrived from amatrice during the 1870s with little more than the clothes on her back. Allegedly, she set up a small space near Termini station to serve fresh pasta to the fruit and vegetable merchants who worked at the local market.

Soon enough, her stand gained traction and locals began referring to it as “La Matriciana.” The establishment gradually expanded, coinciding with the construction of the old Teatro Costanzi in 1880, now the Teatro dell’Opera.

One of my favorites restaurants in Rome now occupies the space.

La Matriciana dal 1870. They have happily adopted the story, and they make an excellent one!

The Amatriciana Recipe

The recipe begins and ends with guanciale, cured pork cheek. It’s sliced into strips or cubes and browned in its own fat.

Set the meat aside and use the same pan to make the tomato sauce. You can use canned or fresh tomatoes. The idea is to season them with the rendered guanciale fat.

Toss the pasta—bucatini, mezze maniche ( half rigatoni), and spaghetti are the most popular—and add a generous dusting of grated pecorino cheese and black pepper.

The beauty is in the balance. The freshness and acidity of the tomatoes tempers the pork fat, which allows all the rich flavors to really sing. Freshly grated black pepper and deeply earthy pecorino take it to the next level.

Check out one of my variations on this classic dish!

Where to eat “La Matriciana” in Rome

I took a poll and added the most popular responses to my own list. Read on for the ultimate Amatriciana hit list.

*By no means an exhaustive list. I welcome your thoughts and recommendations!

La Matriciana dal 1870

One of my favorite spots for old-school grand service—think white table linens, waiters in vests, monogrammed plates—and consistent quality, mid-range prices, and a solid local wine list.

Matricianella

Ever so slightly fancier (read pricier) than La Matriciana dal 1870, but still holds on to the family vibe since 1952. They’ve got a spectacular wine list (It’s bible bound) and a fabulous outdoor seating area.

Flavio al Velavevidetto

The name translates to “I told you so.” This place is a local legend in the Testaccio neighborhood. I heard about it first from a taxi driver, which is a guaranteed solid rec.

Flavio refers to the chef, Flavio de Maio, who worked alongside Felice Trivelloni, of the now infamous Felice a Testaccio.

The word on the street is that Felice, while delicious, attracts the tourist and influencer crowd, whereas the real ones head here. I’ve been. Approved!

Hostaria 100celle

No website, just a beloved neighborhood spot way off the beaten path in Centocelle. About a 20-minute cab from the center. Here’s the address and phone number: Via delle Acacie, 122 | TEL +39 06 2180 7805.

Osteria Palmira

Another family spot with ancestors in Amatrice, Osteria Palmira appears on multiple Top Amatriciana lists, including those of my friends’. They have two locations, in Monteverde and Prati. Both excellent.

Hostaria Nomentana

Ultra local flavor right here! This is my new spot. I recently moved into a new apartment, and this tiny restaurant barely caught my eye at first. Understated, no-frills, gruff-seeming owners… you name it. It’s got all the hallmarks of authenticity and actually lives up to the stereotype.

Incredibly fresh seafood, the classic Roman dishes, reasonable prices, and a perfect little wine list. The owners do actually smile once you give them a chance.

They make their amatriciana with whole datterino tomatoes (like me!). So succulent and juicy. Maybe I’m biased, but it might be me favorite in the city.

No website for this one either. Here’s the address and phone: Via Nomentana, 429 | TEL +39 06 8621 8185.

Trecca

They’re so cool it’s almost annoying how good the food actually is. Brothers, Manuel and Nicolò Trecastelli were inspired by the city’s vibrant produce markets and nearby food halls.

They’ve re-envisioned the old-school trattoria with emphasis on seasonal produce, careful technique, and robust, intense flavor. They’re not afraid to add a touch of onion or deglaze with wine here and there for extra punch. But the nostalgic quality is indisputable. Reservation recommended.

Il Matriciano

An institution since 1912 in the Prati area, it was founded by Amatrice native, Luigi Colasanti.

It’s now in its fourth generation of family ownership and has remained both a neighborhood staple, as well as a popular meeting place for Rome’s literati and cinema set.

If it’s good enough for Pier Paolo Pasolini, Alberto Moravia, and Elsa Morante, Roberto Benigni, and the original Latin lover, Marcello Mastroianni… it’s good enough for me.

Also, I’ve eaten there. Approved!

Sarah Cicolini (Santo Palato) and Luciano Monosilio (Luciano) are two trending chefs to watch.

Both lean strongly on the purity of their ingredients for a refined take on recipes that never lose their rustic edge.

Buon appetito!

Truth or tall tale, some of the greatest recipe origin stories involve accidents, shortages, forgotten ingredients, and the savvy chefs who improvised to save the day.

As Tollhouse spins it, chocolate chip cookies were born in the 1930s at the Tollhouse Inn in Massachusetts. Ruth Wakefield was running low on chocolate, so she chopped what she had into bits and expected it to melt. The rest is delicious history.

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Nachos Especiales

Nachos might not be on the menu today without one quick-thinking maître d’ named Ignacio “Nacho” Anaya.

As the story goes, one night back in 1943, in Piedras Negras, Coahuila, Mexico, just across the border from Texas, Anaya was closing his restaurant when a group of American army wives wandered in and asked to eat.

The chef had already left, so Ignacio tore up tortillas and topped them in American cheese and jalapeños.

He called the dish, Nachos Especiales, and it caught on both sides of the border.

Tarte Tatin the best comparison to what happened in my kitchen the other night.

The jury is out on whether the Tartin sisters actually over-caramelized the apples and popped the crust on top to mask their mistake, or if it was just a marketing ploy.

I, however, can assure you that I abandoned my tomatoes for wine, cigarettes, and deep conversation on the terrace.

When I smelled burning, I followed the scent trail and found them blistered, but not beyond repair.

The deep and smoky, black peppery flavor of crispy guanciale (cured pork cheek), is the key to an otherwise simple pasta from Rome’s contemporary culinary canon, all’amatriciana.

When I saw what I had done, I took it to the next level.

I did a little white wine fumée on the tomatoes.

That is, I poured a shot’s glass worth over the tomatoes and turned the heat back on.

This both deglazed the pan and locked in the flavor.

I cooked the pasta as usual and tossed it with the tomatoes and crispy pieces of guanciale.

Another variation on the theme that I will proudly claim, is a generous dusting of chopped fresh parsley.

Parsley is my ride or die, the most versatile herb in the kitchen.

Parsley is a blast of botanical freshness to balance out any dish that is tipping the savory scales. It will save you if you over-salt, and in this case, it tempers the smoky tomatoes while making up for the vegetable brightness that burned away.

Also it’s pretty.

Read on for the recipe.

Wine Pairing

The smoky nature of this dish lends itself to a red, and local Lazio variety, Cesanese would be fine.

Since my recipe calls for white, and it wasn’t a two-bottle night….I chose to cook with the same wine I served.

A local white wine macerated on skins for a little longer than usual, which is actually pretty common in the wine growing regions surrounding Rome.

La Torretta ‘Toretta’ Bianco - A dry and aromatic blend of Malvasia and Trebbiano. Fermented and aged in cement and anfora. No oaky notes here! Just some earthiness and great mineral finish.

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

Subscribe now

Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

Welcome to the township of Scandicci.

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You might might call it a suburb. I call it paradise.

A perfect day trip, or evening out (yes, it’s that close to the city), Grappoli Urbani offers a literal breath of fresh air, and a fully immersive Tuscan wine and food experience.

You can even get there with public transportation by day, but I recommend booking a taxi for your return, if you don’t have your own car.

I used my favorite transport team, Florence Platinum Tours.

From Aspiring Students to Visionary Winemakers

Founders, Michele Bevacqua and Daniele Macchia met while studying viticulture and oenology in Florence.

Now in their ​early thirties, their collective experience already spans Marlborough, Burgundy, Sicily,and the storied Tuscan terroir of Chianti Classico.

Grappoli Urbani means “Urban Grapes”—a reference to the winery’s vicinity to the city of Florence.

There’s more to the name, a a young, urbane sophistication to their project.

As they tell it, they’re making wines for the cool kids in the city, as well as for true wine connoisseurs.

For those with no ties to the wine world, Michele and Daniele hope their wines might be an invitation to learn more about their craft and the get closer to nature.

Champions of regenerative farming, Bevacqua and Macchia produce ​just under 6000 bottles of fresh, expressive, and approachable wines from mostly local and select international varieties: Sangiovese, Trebbiano Toscano, Merlot, and Syrah.

Rigorously organic, they practice sustainable intercropping in their vineyards as well as the garden that supplies seasonal produce for their newly minted tasting room and bistro, opened in summer of 2026.

What they don’t grow themselves, they source as locally as possible.

My Menu Favorites

During the summer, I can’t get enough of the caprese salad made with tomatoes freshly plucked from the vine and local sheep milk mozzarella.

An all-year-round dish (and my new obsession) is a crostino or toasted panino made with locally roasted ham, fontina cheese, and caper mayonnaise.

Wine begins in the vineyard.

For the project, Bevacqua and Macchia took on long-term leases on separate parcels just north of Florence.

One, in Scandicci, is a stone’s throw from the tasting room. The other vineyards are in the hilly Mugello region, where Chianti production officially begins.

They farm with the health of the soil top of mind, with complimentary cover crops and sustainable practices.

Their goal is to produce delicious, expressive wines that exude a sense of place, so naturally caring for the place comes first.

When possible, they let fermentation happen naturally, and maintain a low-intervention approach.

The Wines

at the moment, Grappoli Urbani produces around 6000 bottles only, comprised of two reds, a rosé, and a white.

Glu Glu Glu

Without a doubt, their flagship red. It’s named for a French descriptor, “glou-glou,’ an onomatopoeic expression that evokes the glug-glug sound of wine tumbling into a glass (or down the hatch!).

C’est un vin très glou-glou = this is an easy-drinking, light, and refreshing wine.

This 100% Sangiovese offers a pure, snappy version of the same grape we all know and love in Chianti Classico, Brunello, and big, bold Bolgheri blends.

They use whole grape fermentation (carbonic maceration), which you may know from Beaujolais Nouveau. The result is pure bright cherry and berry, crisp and delightful, that does indeed go down easily.

Rosso

A rounder, more mature Chianti that still maintains a bright, fresh edge, it macerates for around 20 days and ages 12 months in used French barrique. You won’t perceive wood, just the effect… a satiny balance to Chianti’s characteristic snappiness.

Rosato

Syrah and Merlot for this rosé, lightly pressed and aged in cement for seven months—a process that softens the sharp edges of these red grape varieties and boosts floral aromas. Strawberry tops and summer in a bottle.

Bianco

Local Trebbiano with a tiny percentage of super aromatic Malvasia Bianca. After manual harvest, the grapes rest in the refrigerator overnight to hold on their aromas before the press. Stainless steel only, means all fruit. A clean and breezy white with a mouthwatering finish.

*Reservations are recommended, but not required, unless you plan to visit before 5pm, for a personalized tasting with the boys.

Grappoli Urbani

Via Corbinaie, 52/D, 50018 (Scandicci)
TEL +39 331 401 2361
@grappoliurbani | SITE
Open Daily: 5:00-11:00pm, or by appointment

*This piece appeared originally in Italian as Nel Tempo di un Caffè.

Nel Tempo di un Caffè

There’s an expression in Rome: tempo di un caffè.

Literally translated, it refers to the time it takes to have a coffee.

Figuratively, it means, un attimo (in Italian). In English, we would translate un attimo as ‘a moment.’

An undefined—in terms of minutes and seconds—yet unequivocally short period of time.

The word moment may also refer to a longer period of time, years even, e.g. “It’s a difficult moment for us.”

You could translate un attimo as ‘a second’ or ‘an instant,’ but that’s not quite it either.

Un attimo is something else entirely.

“The Latin root of the word comes from the Latin atomus (atom), a derivative of the Greek ἄτομος (átomos), a reference to the smallest and indivisible particle of matter.

In contemporary Italian, attimo keeps the idea of indivisibility while applying it to time: it has thus become an interval so brief that it cannot be further divided.

Therefore, tempo di un caffè, or un attimo, means a short amount of time.

It’s used as an answer to the question, how long will it take to get somewhere, or to finish a simple task, like making a photocopy.

You can’t say exactly how much time it takes, but if you’re from here, you get it.

As we say in English, if you know, you know.

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I’d never given it much thought before.

It was one of many expressions I’d picked up and started using every day in Rome ever since I arrived back in 2001.

At some point, words, expressions, and habits become a part of us.

Like limbs, eyes, or ears, we take them for granted until one day we suddenly lose them or lose our ability to use them.

As so often happens in life, it took some distance for me to realize the meaning behind an expression born out of a ritual as ordinary as breathing—an espresso at the bar.

Last summer, while I was in Greece, I took a taxi to Glyfada, on the Athens Riviera.

I asked the driver how long it would take to get to prettier water, to wild and rustic stretches of sand, less built-up than the city beaches.

He answered, “Forty-five minutes, the time it takes to have a coffee.”

And just like that—in un attimo if you will—it clicked.

For, Greeks, who stretch a coffee into a whole afternoon, forty-five minutes really is just… the time it takes to have a coffee.

Unlike Romans, who treat coffee time as something that exists outside of time altogether—but still somehow only lasts a few minutes—Greeks experience coffee as time prolonged, unhurried.

That realization hit even harder while I was getting dressed one morning at a Greek friend’s house.

He had arranged a ride to the bus station for me at 11 am.

I told him I might grab a coffee before leaving. He looked at me, genuinely perplexed, and held up his phone. 10:43 am flashed on the screen. He asked, “Do you have time?”

That’s when I got to thinking about this whole idea of measuring time through coffee.

I wondered: do the Spaniards, the French, or the Germans have their version of it?

In the US, Americans make a huge distinction between having a coffee—sitting down for who-knows-how-long—and getting a coffee or grabbing a coffee to go.

Coffee runs on our time. It doesn’t claim a space of its own.

In Rome, anyone who knows the rituals and rhythms of the bar understands that even in the short span of a coffee, anything can happen.

Daily exchanges between customers and baristas are chapters in an ongoing story.

An espresso at the counter sets and resets the pace of the day. Rituals like this possess the rare power to bring order to moments that feel chaotic and uncertain.

An entire tiny universe that transcends space and time exists in un attimo, in the time it takes to drink an espresso.

Drink Local: The Series

Initially conceived as a short video series for social media, Drink Local will take you inside my favorite wine bars to taste local, indigenous wines.

Watch it here on Instagram.

I’ll also pair the wine with something from the menu and explain why the two work together.

My goal is to offer authentic, approachable tips on where to go and what to drink when in Rome (my home), throughout Italy, and wherever I travel.

For those of you who want a deeper dive delivered in your inbox, I’ll follow-up every video with post here on Tastefully.

Food and wine are the heart and soul of every place.

Culture and tradition converge at the table which gives a richer meaning to local flavor.

When in Rome, eat and drink as the Romans do.

Seasonal and indigenous produce and unique soils and microclimates influence the direction of cuisine wherever you are.

When possible, I always match expressly place-specific dishes to local wine.

Think: hearty Tuscan Ribollita bread soup and snappy young Chianti.

Otherwise I’ll introduce you to a simple, harmonious recipe you can order on site, or replicate at home.

That’s the transportive magic of food and wine. The right bottle is the next best thing to being there.

Drink Local in Rome: Enofficina

I first mentioned this wine bar in an article about a quintessentially Roman spring recipe: La Vignarola.

I also included them in a round-up of Rome’s ten best wine bars for Wine Enthusiast.

I love this place!

It’s been around since 2013, taking over a site that, like many of Rome’s wine bars, once housed a vini e oli (a neighborhood outpost for wine and olive oil on tap) dating back to 1936.

They have hundreds of bottles on the list (at least 20 by the glass) all hand-selected by the owner, Alessandro Cappello and loyal collaborator, Valerio Capriotti.

They’re both there almost every night and will happily tell you all about what you’re drinking, along with an equally knowledgable and kind staff.

The menu is a blend of traditional wine bar fare—cheese and charcuterie, olives, and seasonal light bites—and more robust dishes including pasta, meat, and seafood.

If you’re feeling daring, try the Roman specialty, lingua in salsa verde.

Beef tongue served with a parsley-based green sauce with capers, anchovies, and lemon. It’s shockingly tender, and the sauce brightens the somewhat gamey flavor of the meat.

Hot tip for tongue-lovers visiting Italy: try the Piedmontese version of the same dish. Its bagnet verde sauce is a little richer and has breadcrumbs in it.

Most of Enofficina’s ingredients are sourced close to home from reputable organic farms. The bread comes from beloved bakery next door, Panificio Bonci, itself an institution.

Enofficina is also one of the rare wine bars that opens before 5pm, which also makes it a great place to set up my computer and work.

NB: Hours are highly subject to change during July and August, when the less touristy places take their own vacations.

ADDRESS: Via Trionfale, 50, 00195 (Prati / Della Vittoria area)
TEL +39 06 3974 2353
@enofficina_roma

Drink Local in Rome: Aleatico

I could spend pages on Aleatico.

It’s a fascinating red grape variety indigenous to the area surrounding the town of Gradoli (close to Viterbo) and Lago di Bolsena, Europe’s largest volcanic lake— both located about an hour north of Rome.

Aleatico is believed to share some DNA with Moscato, which also thrives in the Roman countryside and through the region of Lazio.

This would explain its luscious aromas of sweet strawberry juice, summer peach, violet, and rose petals along with its more typical “red wine” notes of spices and berry jam. For a red wine, it’s about as floral as it gets.

Aleatico was traditionally made into a dessert wine through late harvest or appassimento (drying in ventilated racks), which produces explosive aromas including brandied cherries, tobacco, dried fruit and spices.

If that sounds good to you, look for an Aleatico Passito, ex. Aleatico di Gradoli DOC Passito.

As a conventional red and a rosé it offers the best of both worlds, a sweet and floral nose that finishes dry and clean.

Aleatico Rosé: ‘Ramatico’ by Antonella Pacchiarotti

A play on words combining aromatico (aromatic), and ramato.

From the root word, ramo (copper), ramato refers to an amber-colored wine, often made from grapes in the gris/grigio family.

Known as pink-skinned, they are exactly that. Neither white or red. Pinot Grigio, for example, if left on the skins for even an hour after pressing, take on a copper hue. Ask your local wine shop for a Pinot Grigio Ramato to try this style.

Vini Pachiarotti Winery

Antonella’s winery sits 450–500 m above sea level, overlooking Lake Bolsena.

Sun-bathed slops and Lazio’s rich volcanic soils produce vibrant aromas and equally energetic wines.

Pacchiarotti is known an Aleatico pioneer, pushing the limits on sweeter more traditional style to produce dry red, white, and rosé versions of the the grape.

She founded Vini Pacchierotti in 1998 with the idea of raising her children to care for the land and flavors generations of her family hold dear.

Food and Wine Pairing: Smoked Salmon Tartare With Arugula

This rosé is particularly fun to pair.

Its sumptuous aromas can stand up to something smoky, like this smoked salmon tartare.

The palate is a balanced blend of silky with a blast of freshness in the finale, which slices right through the unctuous, oily, salmon.

Enofficina serves it on lightly toasted bread brushed with olive oil and topped with spicy, fresh arugula.

How to make it at home

You can replicate this recipe by chopping equal parts raw sushi grade salmon with smoked salmon (ex. Nova or lox).

Drizzle in olive oil, a dash of lemon juice, sea salt and pepper. Prepare crostini with a toast of your choosing and top with arugula.

Every era has its vices.

When it’s not the moralists, it’s the experts who exhort the virtues of sober or smoke-free living.

For nineties kids, fat was public enemy number one. Cue a collective shudder at the memory of those green boxes of fat-free Devil’s Food cookies that bristled their way down our greedy gullets. So shamelessly unsatisfied were we.

Sugar is taking a real finger-pointing at the moment. You would do well to stock your cellar with bread and pasta as the war on gluten shows no sign of subsiding.

What you may not have noticed, or have likely embraced, is the not so quiet assault on suntanning. Laying out. Sunbathing. Call it whatever you want.

Over here in Rome, prendiamo sole. We take sun. The Greeks engage in Ηλιοθεραπεία (pronounced ee-lee-o-the-ra-PEE-a). Heliotherapy. Literally sun therapy.

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Somehow this most glorious and egalitarian ritual has assumed the sinister connotation of sneaking cigarettes out back. Enter the realm of bad girls who revel in self-destruction.

Picture the scene: copper-colored children naked but for white noses. They gather around a sandcastle where they squat on pin legs to reinforce the turrets carved from an overturned pail. They toil fervently and delight in the dash from each oncoming wave.

A few feet away, their mothers sprawl atop oversized towels. Their shins glisten. Every now and then they’ll cast a gaze toward the shore.

Perhaps you saw this all happening in black and white or in the faded, filtered shades of a 1970s snapshot. I spotted a vintage poster the other night, relegated to the bathroom of an uptown Manhattan bistro.

A Côte D’Azur tourism promotion proclaimed Le Soleil Toute l’Année. It featured a row of umbrellas against a glittering horizon line and a bronzed woman in white, her limbs splayed out in absolute abandon, the last vestige of a carefree and bygone era.

Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, exhibit number one is what the freckled and fair-skinned, the handwringers and naysayers envied from behind the brims of their floppy hats. I stand before you, clad only in my type-four skin, in defense of the sun.

I’m barely the first to praise and deify this life-giving sphere of light.

Since the dawn of human expression, the rising and setting of the sun has saturated archetypes and influenced language. It has inspired poets and painters and awed anyone lucky enough to catch a dusk strewn in shades of magenta or watched a golden orb slip below the horizon across a glassy stretch of ocean.

I’m here today to advocate for sun worship in its most contemporary form.

I remember my very first beach bag, a plastic-lined tote passed down to me by a friend’s older sister. It contained the liquid from condensing cans of Fresca and bottles of spilled sunscreen on the inside and kept the sand outside.

I can conjure the scent of that bag even now: creamy orange blossom and chlorine, the vague mustiness of damp bathing suits and towels abandoned overnight or longer.

Over the years, that bag would carry Seventeen Magazine, US Weekly, The New Yorker, and tattered paperback copies of The Pelican Brief or Crime and Punishment. Some people switched to the Kindle for reading, but I never did.

I cherished the sound of crinkling paper under my sweaty forearms and ink smudges across the tops of my thighs when I would read laying on my back with my knees bent and a water bottle or a rolled-up pair of jean shorts as a pillow.

Bags in hand, we proceed with a thoughtful occupation of our patch of sand or grass or cement. We carve out cupholders in whatever the earth is made of and stretch our sarongs out wide. We secure the corners of our beach towels with our sandals to keep them from flapping and folding in the wind.

We take into account proximity to the water, the path of the sun, and of course, the view—a tranquil bay in Piñones, Puerto Rico or a throng of teenage boys at the public pool. Or maybe it’s the rooftops and steeples of Brooklyn from our own illegally paved rooftops, or the brushline of pines across a gentle bend of the Missouri River.

Throughout our lives we will come to define paradise in different ways.

Finally, we cast off our clothes and with them any last restraints. We take turns coating each other’s shoulders in SPF, careful to get under the straps of our swimsuits. We reacquaint ourselves with the feeling of the breeze on our skin.

We listen to the crescendo of an invisible chorus of cicadas, to seagull cries and the rustle of wind in the palms that almost sounds like rain, to water slapping the sides of the pool and the patter of wet feet on pavement. These inimitable summer soundtracks.

In what the Italians call il dolce far niente, we enter a state of blissful idleness. We unapologetically do nothing. Within this sacred space, we find permission to lose ourselves in trivialities. We debate for hours the power of Scorpio rising and discuss the merits of electrolyte content in tropical fruit.

Sometimes, unwrapped as we are, we tell secrets. Memories surge to the surface and sometimes it just makes sense to cry when there’s so much salt water nearby.

Under the radiant spectrum of the sun we revel in our insignificance. There is something restorative in feeling so small. For a moment we are the bronzed woman in white.

We are the sand. We are the sea. We are suddenly content to breathe and exist as part of the landscape, unhindered by thoughts of who or where we ought to be.

During this reprieve from real life, we remember what it is to live.

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

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Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

Subscribe now

Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

Hey wine lovers, if you aren’t following Tanisha Townsend, as the Parisians would say, Allez! Hâte-toi! Va, cours, vole! (Come on now! Get on it!).

Townsend, also known as J’ai Soif on Substack and @girlmeetsglass on the the ‘gram, moved from Chicago to Paris years ago to pursue her wine career.

I met Tanisha on the slopes of Mount Etna last September during a press trip.

This lady does it all.

She’s sommelier trained, a wine educator, consultant, and wine tour guide. She hosts events, judges wine competitions, and is currently judging me for not visiting her in Paris….(yet!).

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Let’s give them something to talk about.

Wine is subjective, of course.

But asking for expert opinions is a great jumping-off point for conversation. And Tanisha has opinions.

Read on for her rosé picks, pairings, and some commentary.

Your go-to rosé when summer hits

Maison St Aix, AIX rosé. Winery site

Three rosés you are excited to drink this summer

Souleil vin de Bounté - The word literally means ‘sun’ and it’s such a light and refreshing rosé that wows people every time. Winery site

Domaines Ott Chateau Romassan - There’s a hint of salty/saline on the palate of this one that I just really like. Winery site

Gerard Bertrand Cote de Roses - Fresh with ripe berry fruit notes and the bottom of the bottle is shaped like a rose, perfect for all my summer flower bouquets. Winery site

A rosé that’s great all year round

Rosé Champagne!

Any good stories about rosé?

I mean, it’s not a story, but the number of discussions I’ve had with people about whether or not you can put ice in rosé.

People really have strong feelings about this! I personally believe that you can do what you want with what you spend your money to drink, just know I will be secretly judging you LOL!

Favorite rosé and food pairing?

A simple charcuterie or seafood board...rosé and crab dip slaps!

Girl Meets Glass

Through her company, Girl Meets Glass, Tanisha helps curious wine lovers and travelers discover, understand, and enjoy French wine through expert-led tastings, education, and immersive experiences in Paris and beyond.

She currently offers wine bar tours in Paris and day trips to Champagne, but don’t wait for a Paris trip to check her out tout de suite!

READ MORE ON ROSÉ

How Rosé is Made

These are the three most common techniques for producing rosé wine.

Direct Press

Crush the grapes with the skins for anywhere from 2-24 hours before filtering.
The longer the juice stays in contact with the skins, the bolder the color, aroma, flavor, and texture.

Saignée Method/ Metodo Sangrado

Crush red grapes with their skins briefly. “Bleed off” a portion of the pink juice from the tank, and ferment that juice separately as rosé wine.

Blending

As it sounds, these rosés result from a blend of white and red wines.

Rosé ‘Round the World

Rosé is incredibly diverse!

Here’s a handful of places, appellations, and styles to check out.

Provence, in southern France, is practically synonymous with rosé. Provençal rosés use the same grapes as Rhône Valley reds: Grenache, Cinsault, Syrah, Mourvèdre and Carignan.

The most iconic and widespread style, Côtes de Provence, is known for its pale salmon color and mild notes of red berries, Mediterranean herbs, and touch of sea spray.

Bandol utilizes more of the Mourvèdre grape in the blends (often, but not always) resulting in a more structured and ageable rosé. They’re great young and fresh, but also hold up in the cellar, and alongside more complex cuisine.

Tavel rosés defy Provence’s pale pink stereotype.

They’re also made with Mourvèdre, and instantly recognizable for their magenta pink color and correspondingly bold aromas and flavors. Think: blackberries and black cherries, balsamic herbs and even a touch of spice and leather.

Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo (Italy) From cerasa (”cherry” in the local dialect).
It’s made with Montepulciano, the region’s beloved big, juicy, red variety. Expect deeper floral notes (purple, cola, green-tinted violet) and an energetic, juicy texture. These wines are chewy. They’re also great with food.

Etna Rosato (Italy)
The volcano has never felt so fresh! Wines that grow atop Mount Etna thrive on fertile soils and lava-laced rain. The principle grape, Nerello Mascalese is muscular and savory, with dark fruit notes and a never-ending mineral finish.

As a rosé, you get bright acidity, smoky and volcanic notes, and a blast of young berry aromas.

Rosato di Salento (Italy)
Rosés from the sun-drenched heeltap of the Italian bootheel are bold and filled with ripe fruit notes and spice. Made from Negroamaro, Primitivo and Malvasia Nera grapes, they’re still dry and finish with a blast of sea-salty minerality.

Loire Valley (France) makes rosé from Cabernet Franc, Pinot Noir, Gamay and a local grape, Grolleau. These range from pale pink and light in structure to deeper and juicier. Rosé d’Anjou, for example, is sometimes slightly off-dry. Keep that in mind if you prefer a sweeter, smoother style.

Rosé from Pinot Noir

Everybody loves Pinot Noir!

Sancerre Rosé and wines from Oregon exude wild, strawberry and fresh cherry. Pinot Noir’s earthiness still comes through, as does its prim tightness and pretty fruit.

Greek rosé may seem niche, but it’s on the radar for rosé-lovers in the know. Read more about Greek wines here.

Look for Nemea, a sunbathed, mountainous region in Greece’s central Peloponnese. They’ve been producing rosé for ages from their indigenous red variety, Agiorgitiko.

They’re immensely fruity and floral with a snappy finish.

Further north, Xinomavro—a fascinating grape with Nebbiolo and Pinot Noir-like qualities produces steely, bright, herbaceous rosés.

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Notes of Rosé

Rosé comes in so many styles there’s virtually no end to the list of possible notes you’ll find. The most common ones correspond to the season: summer fruit, wild herbs and flowers, and sea breeze.

Here’s a more exhaustive list. Have fun sniffing them out!

• Strawberry tops

• Ripe summer strawberries

• Cool water washed raspberries

• Cherry

• Watermelon

• Grapefruit

• Citrus zest

• Mediterranean herbs (fresh and dried)

• Wild flowers

• Dried flowers

• Flower petals, especially rose

• Peppery peony

• Ginger

• Sweet spice

• Honey

• Sea spray

• Wet stone

• Pumice
  

Rosé Wine and Food Pairing

Rosé is incredibly versatile, which makes it fun and easy to pair with food.

Keep in mind that the richer the hue, and the bolder the aromas and palate, the more your wine will match up with more complex flavors.

Sautéed Mussels

A Provençal classic! Tomato sauce and herbs like bay leaf and sage give this dish just enough power to pair up to a bright and juicy rosé.

Salmon and Tuna

Both of these fish work with rosé, for its brightness and acidity. Keep the seasoning to a minimum, as both tuna and salmon have a lot of personality.

Once you go bold—for example, Sicilian style olives, capers, and tomatoes, you’re dipping your toe into red-wine territory. Otherwise, choose a rosé with more body.

Rice and Grain Salads

The combination of crisp veggies and seafood, and even cheese, with earthy grains is pink wine-pairing paradise!

What NOT to Pair with Rosé

Wine pairing is an art and a science, but it should also be fun. The only absolutely horrible pairing seems counterintuItive.

Watermelon and Cucumber

They’re both members of the cucurbit family, super summery and refreshing. The only problem is their lingering bitterness at the back of your palate. It will clash with rosé, and most wines actually.

If you’re determined to have your Greek salad, or your watermelon and feta, choose a softer, smoother, sweeter style of rosé, like Anjou.

A Recipe with Ancient Roots

The ancient Greeks and Romans traditionally infused their wine with fruits, honey and herbs (among other unlikely things (Look up garum for a shocking taste of ancient Roman cuisine).

Flavoring and infusing wine was also a common solution to less than palatable wine.

Infusions with plants and herbs were also used to cure digestive ailments. This ultimately led many of today’s aperitif and digestif wines and spirits.

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A Break in the Fields

Drinking on the job? You bet.

In the Roman countryside, for as long as anyone can remember, during the wheat or grape harvest, farmers would enjoy this simple preparation in the middle of the afternoon.

It provided immediate relief from the heat, along with natural sugars and much-needed hydration.

Le pesche (peaches) proved to ideal as they maintained firmness, even when fully ripe, which made them easier to slice.

Local Fruit and Local Wine

If you have access to local peaches, by all means, use them.

As for the wine, to get closest to what we’re tasting over here, look for wines from Lazio containing local, aromatic variety, Malvasia like Frascati Superiore.

Moscati di Terracina would also work well. Terracina is located in Latina, on the coastline south of Rome.

Terracina produces bright, sunny Moscato wines bursting with ripe fruit and floral aromas that finish with a swish of sea-salty minerality.

Don’t waste a drop!

Serve the peaches in glassware, and save the juice. Drink it as is, or add some ice for a refreshing after-lunch or after-dinner sip.

Thank you to Luca Boccoli and his team at 100C for the recipe!

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

Subscribe now

Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

Subscribe now

Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

Non c’è estate come l’estate italiana.

L’estate italiana.

Bastano queste due parole per evocare immagini di acque color zaffiro, spiagge di ciottoli, bikini bianchi, e pelle baciata dal sole.

L’estate italiana è l’apice della dolce vita: vivere senza pensieri, piatti di spaghetti alle vongole e fiumi di vino serviti in modo informale a bordo di una barca o nelle trattorie affacciate sul mare.

Non importa se la tovaglia manca e le posate sono tutte diverse. Guarda il panorama!

per avere nuovi articoli direttamente nella casella postale (in italiano!), abbonati qui!

L’estate italiana è uno stato d’animo.

Un’idea definita collettivamente, inseguita collettivamente e, in un certo senso, realizzata collettivamente.

Come una Coppa del Mondo: la vince una squadra, ma la festeggia un intero Paese. Così è l’estate italiana: un motivo d’orgoglio, uno dei pochi fenomeni culturali davvero condivisi da tutta la nazione.

Già da giugno, le copertine delle riviste iniziano a riempirsi di celebrità distese sui ponti di megayacht o immortalate mentre si divertono in riva al mare.

Luglio e agosto scorrono in un susseguirsi di fotografie rubate dai paparazzi, una scena più invidiabile dell’altra.

Loro non sono italiani qualunque, certo, ma partecipano agli stessi rituali condivisi, semplicemente nella loro versione più patinata, quella a cinque stelle.

Una delle prime cose che notai quando mi trasferii qui, nel 2001, fu quanto gli italiani fossero legati ai rituali. In quei gesti ripetuti c’è un senso di conforto, di appartenenza, di radicamento.

I rituali vissuti insieme agli altri diventano la struttura portante del nostro modo di percepire la realtà.

Attraverso la comunità ci riconosciamo. Vediamo riflessa la nostra identità nel collettivo.

Forse non abbiamo tutto ciò che desideriamo, ma qualcun altro, qualcuno in cui ci identifichiamo, colma gli spazi vuoti.

Quando arrivai a Roma—fresca e ingenua come un mattino nella campagna del Missouri, lo Stato nel cuore del Midwest americano dove sono nata e cresciuta—inseguivo un’idea d’Italia costruita con l’opera lirica, il cinema e la mia immaginazione.

Il desiderio di evasione mi aveva portata fin qui — insieme a un visto di studio e a due genitori abbastanza comprensivi.

Forse non trovai esattamente ciò che stavo cercando, ma trovai abbastanza. E, soprattutto, trovai me stessa.

Anche vent’anni dopo, riconosco il conforto che si prova nel credere a quella piccola menzogna, nell’abbracciare quell’illusione di Roma.

Un espresso non risolverà i miei problemi.

So perfettamente che, oltre la porta del bar sotto casa, la vita continua con tutte le sue infinite incertezze.

Eppure, quando tutti decidiamo di crederci, di partecipare a questa grande finzione, di esserne attori o semplici comparse, allora non ha più importanza.

Per quei cinque minuti trascorsi al bancone possiamo semplicemente respirare.

Anche la cena al ristorante è un ottimo esempio.

I piatti arrivano al tavolo, due o tre per braccio del cameriere, accolti da un coro di: «Wow! Mamma mia! Buonissimo!»

Come potrebbe non essere delizioso?

Magari, per gli standard italiani, è perfino un pasto mediocre. Ma ormai l’atmosfera è stata creata.

Perché rovinarla con dettagli fastidiosi come il vino della casa di scarsa qualità, o gli spaghetti troppo cotti?

Che cosa possiamo imparare della felicità osservando il modo in cui gli italiani sfumano continuamente il confine tra aspirazione, rituale, e realtà?

La mia prima vera vacanza estiva italiana andò così…

Il mio fidanzato, Stefano, aveva due settimane di ferie ad agosto e una macchina con cui portarci da qualche parte.

Passavamo ore a sfogliare le inserzioni sul retro delle riviste, cercando appartamenti in affitto sul mare in Calabria. All’epoca quella regione era ancora poco conosciuta e, presumibilmente, più economica.

Il New York Times non aveva ancora scoperto qualche pittoresco paesino, comunicando miracolosamente con gli abitanti senza condividere una lingua comune per raccontarne il calore, l’autenticità e il pesce fresco a buon mercato.

Ma i prezzi dell’alta stagione avevano ormai raggiunto perfino i tratti di costa più remoti.

Così allargammo la ricerca agli alloggi «vicino al mare» e, alla fine, ci accontentammo di qualcosa «a pochi minuti di macchina dalla spiaggia».

Per una parte di giugno e per tutto luglio, non riuscivo a togliermi dalla testa le immagini di quella vacanza.

Io e Stefano ci saremmo baciati con passione sopra grandi lastre di granito, la pelle lucida di sole e spruzzata di salsedine.

Saremmo stati i protagonisti del nostro personale spot di Acqua di Giò o di Calvin Klein Escape, senza gli addominali scolpiti e i seni perfetti che sfidano la gravità. Non eravamo modelli, ma eravamo follemente innamorati.

Avremmo comprato gamberi e cipolle rosse di Tropea, cucinato la cena dentro casa e mangiato all’aperto sui nostri due metri quadrati di terrazza.

Dopo il tramonto, non avendo altro da fare, avremmo fatto l’amore con calma, per poi addormentarci con le finestre aperte e il ventilatore al minimo, perché troppa aria, si sa, fa venire la febbre.

Passavo in rassegna gli scaffali di Calzedonia, il marchio italiano per eccellenza: d’inverno sinonimo di collant, d’estate di costumi da bagno.

In farmacia comprai una crema snellente e mi avvolsi le cosce con fanghi minerali e pellicola trasparente, insieme a metà delle donne italiane.

Le stesse donne che, però, non rinunciano mai alla brioche della colazione, nonostante l’incombente prova costume.

Molti italiani si preoccupano del proprio peso, sia chiaro. Non voglio certo sminuire questa loro battaglia.

Se necessario, pesano al grammo prosciutto e mozzarella per il pranzo e si limitano a un solo bicchiere di vino bianco.

Eppure non avevo mai sentito tanti uomini sostenere con tanta convinzione che un po’ di carne sulle ossa è una cosa bella.

Quando arrivai in Italia avevo ventidue anni, ero sbocciata tardi e mi portavo dietro dieci anni di insicurezze riguardo al mio corpo. Credo che il cambiamento di scenario abbia avuto un ruolo decisivo nella mia trasformazione.

Il cibo era più sano, certo. Anche le porzioni erano più piccole. Ma soprattutto, a Roma mi sentivo più bella. E questo è già metà della battaglia.

Quando arrivò agosto, Stefano litigò con il suo capo e trovò un altro lavoro come addetto alla sicurezza in un campeggio.

Vendette la macchina e comprò una moto usata, con la quale, nei suoi uno o due giorni liberi, raggiungevamo spiagge più belle appena fuori Roma.

Per una settimana vissi con lui in un camper, così da poter cenare insieme nella pizzeria del campeggio prima che iniziasse il turno di notte. Facevamo l’amore e poi colazione quando ci svegliavamo, di solito nel tardo pomeriggio.

Non era una situazione ideale e, a volte, litigavamo. Ma rileggendo il mio diario, non si sarebbe mai detto che non fossi in paradiso.

Non dimenticherò mai la gioia di quella prima estate.

Mi affascinava la straordinaria normalità di quell’attesa condivisa.

Quel rituale collettivo con cui si evocava l’arrivo dell’estate italiana. Sentivo le ore scorrere lentamente e partecipavo anch’io alle conversazioni che iniziavano sempre con: «Dove vai quest’estate?» oppure «Non vedo l’ora che arrivi...».

Da straniera — e per di più americana — lo percepivo ancora più intensamente.

Negli Stati Uniti, la cosa che più si avvicina a questa attesa e a questa gioia collettiva sono le vacanze estive da scuola. Ma, una volta compiuti diciotto anni o iniziato a lavorare, tutto questo finisce.

Naturalmente anche gli italiani sono esseri umani e l’economia non attraversa il suo momento migliore.

Sempre più spesso i giornali parlano delle migliaia di persone che non possono permettersi una vacanza. In un Paese cresciuto osservando i privilegi dei potenti e l’abilità dei più ricchi nell’eludere le tasse, risentimento e delusione sono sentimenti reali.

Le copertine delle riviste di ieri sono gli influencer di oggi.

Esibiscono vite lussuose, irraggiungibili e, per certi versi, inspiegabili.

I loro reel e i loro selfie suscitano invidia e alimentano l’insicurezza. Ma chiunque sia stato a Positano senza uno staff al seguito sa bene cosa significhi trascinare una valigia su e giù per infinite scalinate affacciate sul mare.

Quando smetti di scorrere il telefono, però, le spiagge tornano a essere nostre.

Ben presto gli influencer si sposteranno verso un’altra destinazione alla moda, inevitabilmente distaccati dai luoghi che mostrano, perché devono continuare a muoversi per riuscire a catturare la nostra attenzione.

I social media amplificano alcuni dei nostri peggiori istinti: l’invidia, l’insicurezza, la competizione e, sì, anche una versione filtrata della realtà. Ma i social non fanno altro che evidenziare qualcosa che esiste da sempre.

Gli esseri umani hanno sempre avuto la tendenza a proiettare un’immagine della vita a cui aspirano. Sorridiamo davanti all’obiettivo. Indossiamo i nostri abiti migliori per la domenica. Un tempo ci vestivamo eleganti perfino per prendere un aereo.

Ci mettiamo un po’ di rossetto per sentirci più belle.

A volte, basta un pizzico d’illusione.

L’intera popolazione italiana non passa certo le giornate a sorseggiare spritz.

Eppure, nella mia via, il meccanico, il calzolaio e l’antiquario si concedono spesso una birra o un bicchiere di vino bianco prima di pranzo.

Quando le temperature salgono e le prime fotografie iniziano a comparire sugli schermi dei telefoni, siamo tutti su quella spiaggia. Sogniamo tutti. Aspettiamo insieme le vacanze, contando i minuti che ci separano da un angolo di verde in campagna o da un fazzoletto di sabbia in mezzo alla folla.

Nel frattempo, ci fermiamo per un gelato e lo mangiamo all’ombra. Ci tratteniamo qualche minuto in più davanti a un espresso.

E quando l’estate finisce, indipendentemente da come l’abbiamo vissuta, ne condividiamo la nostalgia. Ci scambiamo fotografie e racconti. sospiriamo.

Si torna al lavoro.

Fino all’anno prossimo.

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Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

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Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.

If there is one color with the power to set the mood, it is without a doubt pink.

As humans, we’ve evolved to trust in our eyes implicitly. We associate colors with expectations, smells, and flavors.

Watching Pink host the Grammy Awards reminded me of just how loaded the color can be.

Precisely because she—Alecia Beth Moore that is—exists in direct opposition to her musical moniker.

Think Pink

Say the word out loud.

Pop your lips and click your tongue. Pink. What comes to mind?

Bubble Gum. Ballarinas. Sweet. Pretty. Cosmopolitans.

Pink ranges from girly to girl power to breast cancer awareness.

Then there’s Pink herself, who refused to brand herself as a pop princess and rose (literally) to popularity on her own terms.

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And then there’s rosé.

Europeans have been drinking pink since wine was invented.

Earliest evidence of winemaking surmises that grapes were likely fermented with their skins on and stored in porous amphora casks. This meant even the white wines most likely had an amber tone.

Rosé, rosato, rosado, and roséwein

Throughout Europe, rosé comes in all shades and styles.

From magenta pink, bold and spicy to sea salty, zingy, and almost crystal clear.

Provence rosé stands out for its signature pale salmon pink color and dry, mouthwatering finish. It’s less fruity than herbaceous, and even slightly savory.

Rosé is such a staple of the region, it flies off the shelves year-round.

Rosé Piscine: A Little Pool of Pink

In summertime, rosé on the rocks is de rigueur.

Snobbery melts away with the sunshine, and the cheap stuff goes on ice.

The expression, rosé piscine translates to “pink pool” a reference to a generous pour of rosé and stacked with ice until it hits the brim.

If you’ve ever caught side eye for dropping a cube or two into your wine glass, consider rosé piscine, your permission.

Anti-Rosé Bias in America

For years in the USA, rosé wine was considered cheap and treacly.

During the mid-1970s, Sutter Home Winery attempted to produce a dry version of their signature big, bold red Zinfandal.

Instead, they turned out a batch that hadn’t fully fermented.

They released it anyway, and the deep pink, fruit-juicy wine became a shocking commercial success.

That mistake set the pace for Americans’ perception of pink wine for decades to come.

For wine aficionados, the so-called “White Zinfandal” was seen as cheap, sugary swill.

And just like that, all rosé wine assumed a collective identity as commercial crap.

Decidedly unsophisticated.

Pink Progress

Americans have a history of struggling with color bias.

But if we’ve learned anything from history, it’s that the heart of bias lies in our own insecurity and desire for superiority.

We want to be the best, so someone or something else must become the worst.

We can thank the French for finding a solution to our pink aversion. Merci!

Master marketers in the 1990s rebranded rosé as an aspirational lifestyle beverage.

What’s more appealing than lounging on the Riviera, diving off a yacht, and dining seaside in Saint Tropez?

And, all of a sudden, rosé wasn’t the problem, the style was.

It was now okay to embrace pink wine, as long as it was the fancy one.

An appreciation for dry, pale, salmon-colored Provençal rosé signaled worldliness.

We altered our perception of pink wine. Why? Because it made us feel chic.

From there, the American marketing machine kicked in. We got rosé season, rosé all day, frosé, and even brosé.

Rosé tastes like summer.

That’s not just marketing.

Rosé season is collective association.

If you have rosé in enough summery situations, the scent and flavor, and yes—the color pink— carve out a spot deep in your brain.

It’s like muscle memory. Our scent and flavor vocabulary starts with memory and association.

Rosé smells like summer.

This one’s real.

Notes of rosé wine are vast and varied, but the most common aromas are quintessentially summery.

To name a few: strawberry tops, ripe summer strawberries, cool water rinses raspberries, cherries, watermelon, grapefruit, citrus zest, sea spray, rocks after a summer rain, mediterranean herbs. The list goes on.

Rosé is here to stay.

Browse wine shop displays at peak summer for a dizzying selection.

Provençal still reins supreme, instantly recognizable for its color, elegantly shaped bottles including an iconic vase-inspired look made famous by Domaines Ott.

Deeper pink and textured Tavel, bold and bright Cerasuolo d'Abruzzo, sea-salt laced and spicy Salento Rosato, or Long Island’s own “Summer in a Bottle” (If you know, you know).

And if you still don’t love it, plop some ice cubes in there and close your eyes.

Hello wine lovers!

Welcome to Wine Wednesdays. A Tastefully Plus, premium feature for paid subscribers. Your support helps me continue to do what I love, so this is for you!

The comment section is exclusively yours. To participate, consider upgrading today!

Subscribe now

Ask me anything (about wine)

I’m a wine professional, certified sommelier and everything. People ask me wine questions all the time.

Don’t be shy. The more details you provide, the better.

Need some inspiration? Here’s a selection of questions I’ve been asked over the years.

• What’s the best country for wine? Contentious, but fun conversation starter.

• White wine always tastes sweet to me. Can you suggest one that isn’t?

• Why does white wine give me heartburn? I get the same question for red…

• I’ve got a big event and need to buy at least few cases of what’s a good wine for the value? I used to do wine events in NYC, where budget was always tight! I’ll need more details for a question like this (location/occasion/food)

• I’m going to Rome, what are some of your favorite wine bars?

• What does corked wine taste like, and can you still drink it?

• What is natural wine? Do not even get me started! But no, do! Great topic. So many opinions. And so many great wines!

Rules of the Game

Post your questions in the comments, and I will answer them over the course of the week. Only paid subscribers to the comment section.

Ask me anything, but please be respectful. I’m a certified sommelier with particular expertise in Italian wines.

I’ve been writing, selling, marketing, and teaching wine since 2008, but the learning never ends.

If I don’t feel qualified to answer, I’ll check in with a fellow sommelier, wine maker, restauranteur, or consultant. We’ve got you covered.

Join the Conversation

Engage with other subscribers in the comments! This is a community space where we can all learn from each other.

Share your favorite wines, wine pairings, and wine stories if you’re feeling it.

*If you no longer wish to receive Wine Wednesday emails, you can opt out by clicking on your subscription settings in the manage subscription link at the bottom of this email.