Yes, Dave, the Veal Carpaccio & Truffles with a nice, cool glass of Arneis will be fantastic. But there WILL be consequences.
How Do You Say ‘Colon Blow’ in Italiano?
May 1st, 2011 by David Flaherty
31 Days and Counting…
Apr 29th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Today marks our 1-month anniversary on the road. Staying in for the night with a wee spread of Piedmontese vittles.
Hard Time at Birrificio Pausa Cafè
Apr 27th, 2011 by David Flaherty
First night in Piedmont. And what do we order w/ dinner? BEER. And not just any beer. Microbrew made by prisoners! (I’m not joking)
Venice: Lost in the Alleyways of Time
Apr 26th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Venetian express train (all photos by Kat Bryant)
It rose out of the lagoon.
Sometime around the 4th or 5th century, a resilient group of people had been pushed to the brink. Exhausted and worn thin by constant foreign invasions, they decided to relocate to the marshy islands far out on the water.
And thus, Venice was born. And the most magical city on the planet came to be.
Emerging from the train three days ago, I rounded the corner and found myself a mere 100 meters from the canal’s edge. It was a staggering sight I will never forget. It is a world of water, steeped in art and history. Centuries of human devotion to this strange, surreal floating city can be felt on every brick at your feet, every wall at your side (see photo slideshow at bottom).
As I ate my breakfast this morning and looked down on the boats zipping up and down the canal, I had a revelation. Everything before my eyes, and I mean everything—the streets, the flowers, the cups, the spoons, the doors, the houses themselves, even the people—everything was brought in by boat. And it has been this way from the beginning. It is the only way; for water is their master. Man is forced to kneel at nature’s feet.
Aperitivi et al: Dessert Wine, Grappa & Craft Beer
Apr 26th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Lapping it up in Lake Como at a backstreet wine bar. (Pictured: Vin Santo del Chianti Classico-Az. Agr. San Felice & Barolo Chinato-Cocchi)
Bellagio (Not the One in Vegas)
Apr 25th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Just arrived in Lake Como. While we wait for George Clooney’s dinner invite, think we’ll sip some Verdicchio…
Mr Ed: Tonight’s Appetizer
Apr 23rd, 2011 by David Flaherty
Good for the heart, good for the mind. It’s horse meat! Yep, horse meat! What fine beverage would you pair with this action?
Beers in Fair Verona?
Apr 23rd, 2011 by David Flaherty
Just arrived in Verona. Kat ran out to buy a couple of beers. Look closely: “Analcolica”. Way to go, Kat! A couple of non-alcoholic beers. Yippee!
Al Merca, the Hole-in-the-Wall Bacari
Apr 23rd, 2011 by David Flaherty
Stumbled upon the local, outdoor wine bar off the Grand Canal in Venice. Garganega non-filtrate “Fasoli” & Ribolla Giala “Sirch”. F’in sweet.
Life on the Road: Au Revoir, France
Apr 21st, 2011 by David Flaherty
Descending the hill of Hermitage, Northern Rhone
We’ve sung Willie Nelson’s “On the Road Again” ten times more than the average Willie fan can muster in a 3-week period.
It’s been an interesting transition being away from home this long. As each day is so dense, a week ends up feeling like a month. Learning traffic signs in the moment while zipping along at 110 km/h, or ordering sandwiches at a busy shop with a line of people behind us wondering what’s the hold-up with the douchebags at the front—I may just have to rethink this upon my return to NYC; I’m totally guilty of this. “You don’t know which way to swipe your Metrocard?! Get the f out of my way!”
Tonight marks our last night in France (see photo slideshow at bottom). It’s been a whirlwind three weeks. 21 days of learning how to accomplish the basic things like getting from point A to point B (“wait, there are how many train stations in Paris?!”), getting food in the belly (“I haven’t a clue what that dish is…sounds like lamb. Oh…it’s apparently…scallops”) and a roof over our head (“why is trying to book a hotel in Venice around Easter time so difficult?”).
It almost feels like a reversion to childhood. Wandering around in diapers not knowing anything, but with the added curse of being a wise(ish) adult and knowing you don’t know anything. Trying to communicate today with the pharmacist about needing some “Pepto Bismol” was followed by confused looks and bizarre gestures of me patting my stomach like a deranged Santa Claus. We’ve become somewhat confident with certain phrases and words—our “Hello, how are you?” and “Goodbye, have a great Sunday” are particularly filled with zest and assurity.
I think my favorite interaction was last week in the Southern Rhone town of Carpentras. One gracious hotel host asked me in french what type of jam I would like for my toast. Confidently, I said with a swagger, “Coffee with milk”. That elicited a nice chuckle from the french couple a few tables away. Now that I think about it, coffee-with-milk would make an incredible jam for croissants…
The French Sure Like Their Wine
Apr 19th, 2011 by David Flaherty
A pretty typical offering of beers in a French bistro (in fact, a lot for draft in this case). Apparently, beer takes a backseat here.
Somewhere on a Beach Outside of Antibes
Apr 17th, 2011 by David Flaherty
There could be worse places for an Irishman to get a sunburn than the French Riviera…
Afternoon Drinks in the Southern Rhone
Apr 15th, 2011 by David Flaherty
My puny glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape Blanc pales in comparison to Kat’s afternoon beer.
Vineyard Porn: the Grand Crus of Burgundy
Apr 13th, 2011 by David Flaherty
Believe it or not, you can drive your car right up to the Grand Cru vineyards of Burgundy. No barbed wire, half-starved Rottweilers or retina scans to keep you out. Nope, you can walk directly up to the vines and lie down next to them, if you so fancy (see the insane photo album at bottom).
It’s a near religious experience to stand on their hallowed plots of earth and ponder just what the hell makes them so famous. This is akin to a baseball fanatic being allowed to enter Fenway Park after-hours, waltz right up to home plate, crouch into a batting stance and spit into the sacred dirt at their feet.
Photog on the loose
Over two days, my wife and I—armed with a geeky topography map photocopied from Hugh Johnson’s World Atlas of Wine—stalked the small towns and vineyards of the Cote d’Or. Puligny-Montrachet, Gevrey-Chambertin, Vougeot, they all unfurled in front of us.
This is some seriously fuckin sacred land and you can feel it in the air. It’s so different than Napa Valley, with it’s glitz and glamour meeting you every step of the way. For the most part, we were alone on the serene vineyard roads in Burgundy (save for the occasional tractor and van of wine geeks glued to the windows).
Wine Geek Pop Quiz
Apr 12th, 2011 by David Flaherty
What is this hill in the Northern Rhone called? I plan on scaling it tomorrow morning if you’re free to join.
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