Glorious, glorious grapes.

Soo... I hate to do this, but I must compile these two experiences into one blog just to catch up. Things... are dramatic in a very fantastic way here, I'm slipping this post in as fast as I can whilst my roommates argue over who buys the wine tonight (they both want to buy, I want to sit back and laugh at how this is my biggest problem at the moment, aside from Fedex).

The tiny barrels above are full of ambrosia, leaked from Jupiter's secret vault into the Tuscan countryside and labeled with tiny placards that gloss over the true beauty of the contents within. I could wax philosophical about their contents and history for several pages, but alas, I will make a feeble attempt at an overview.

We've all heard of a yumm-tastic substance called balsamic vinegar. Some of the more culinarily inclined may even be thoroughly familiar with a balsamic reduction. But the minute centurion vessels pictured above are filled with Acetico Balsamico Tradizionale, a product so unlike the balsamic vinegar any of us are familiar with. Only two producers that use this ancient technique actually produce enough to release a few bottles for sale, the rest hoard their liquid love for their families and most beloved friends.

The piccolo barrels are made of not only oak, but also chestnut, cherry, and acacia woods. The vinegar from this producer is made from the must of first pick, top-quality Lambrusco grapes.

Then there's these barrels, also 100 years old, that the vinegar actually develops in, before transitioning through the smaller varied barrels. The must (mushed up grapes with the stems and pips removed) is placed in these 5 guys, then every year, as evaporation lowers the levels of the liquid naturally, the small barrel is topped off from the barrel before it, and the larger barrel's contents are scooted into the next smaller barrel. Once the contents have undergone enough evaporation to fit into the small barrel, the acetico (vinegar) is thick, like a reduction, or essentially the texture of warmed honey. Only after this natural, slow process is the vinegar tasted, then the flavor adjusted by moving it in progression through the various types of wood, each one selected to add richness, fruitiness, sweetness... or whatever the maker decides is appropriate. After 29 years, it is bottled. Yeah, it's older than me.

Normal balsamic vinegar is also made from grape must, but usually the second pick, and the flavor is enhanced by additives, caramel for color, and sometimes preservatives to help it keep. It's still quite tasty, and aged balsamic vinegars can run into the couple-hundred-bucks price range. This stuff kicks all those to the curb and chokeslams them while they're down. Yeah, it sounds exaggerated, but one little plastic spoonful caused my brain to melt and fly into an acidic euphoria equivalent to a kick on the magic 'shrooms. Okay, I'll admit that it may not be that intense, but it's damn good (note to parents: of course I've never had 'shrooms, it's simply alliteration. Note to friends "Duuuude, you gotta try this!!!)

Then there's these barrels, filled with every one's favorite grape derivative, vino! These belong to an awesome (and loaded- cha ching!) lady named Donatella, who makes both Brunello in Montecchino, and Super Tuscans on her villa in the Tuscan countryside.

Brunello is the DOC/DOCG wine from the Montecchino area, and is made of Sangiovese grapes. It's made of happiness as well, a nice, bold, peppery red that does need some maturation to open up, but develops into a complex and refined powerhouse vino rosso that compliments game, red meat, and other hardy meat substances like salumi quite well.

Super Tuscans are technically "table wines", as they're made of grapes not approved for the region by the consortzio, but they're amongst some of Italy's very best wines, and are quite vogue on fine dining menus. There's some of both on the way to your house, Mom and Dad, so I'm sure you'll find the appeal on your own.

The really interesting part of Donatella's wine empire is that her vineyards are staffed by women only, as Italy is still a somewhat sexist society, though not as much as in the machismo (is that a word?) times of yore. She does a lot for the community, and the vineyard had been in her family's possession for over a century- passed down to the first born daughter. It makes for a great story, great history, and damned impressive wine.

We also had a super awesome seven course lunch at her resort's restaurant. Once again, it's a hard life, but I'm determined to make the most of the meager experiences I've been receiving. Ouch, the sarcasm hurt me there for a minute.

The guy talking to chef Polegri above is a transplanted Sardinian shepherd who travels though the Tuscan countryside grazing his antique breed of sheep. The lambs were really adorable and looked tender and tasty. He was holding up our bus so that we wouldn't disturb his flock.

And here's Janene and Michele smiling at the beautiful Tuscan backdrop at the last stop on our journey. It may be the prettiest countryside on the planet. It sure felt that way.

Ciao, ragazzi

Tomorrow I will write more, as I spent the day in Roma wandering about and garnering the easiest internship cred ever. Until then, my roomies just decided that they'd both buy the wine, so I have to go :)