An under-$20 old-school Chianti reminds me of Italian wine’s endless discovery.

Chianti by Cantagallo first came to my attention thanks to my friend Giacomo Butera of the Gruppo Butera importing and distribution company here in Texas. Giacomo graciously donated some of the wine to our Hue Society event last month in Houston.

I loved the wine so much that I organized a tasting with owner/winemaker Dario Pierazzuoli (above) at Vinitaly earlier this month.

His wines, which come from the Montalbano subzone near Florence, are old school all the way: large cask aging and the classic slightly under-ripe flavors of lovingly grown 100 percent Sangiovese. This is that marvelous kind of wine that you find in the taverns that dot Chianti country.

But the thing that really blew me away about the wine was that it lands in my market under $20!

Yes, it’s true: there still are value-driven finds like this wine, wines that genuinely capture and express the place where they are grown and reflect the people who raise them. Dario, for the record, is a Tuscan through and through, including his love of and talent for wit.

Dario’s focus is Sangiovese in a broad spectrum, from fresh and extremely food-friendly to rich and meditative. He also makes fantastic Carmignano at his other farm, Le Farnete.

Meeting and tasting with Dario reminded me of the Italian wine world’s endless journey of discovery. No matter how much wine you taste, no matter how many wineries you visit, no matter how many Vinitalys you attend… there is always something uncharted, unknown, and wonderful to stumble upon, as I did with these excellent wines.

Thank you, Giacomo and Dario, for taking time out to taste with me. And the best news is that the Chianti Montalbano is available here in Texas.

Buon fine settimana a tutti! I hope you drink something great this weekend!

Happy Italian Liberation Day! A great day to renew our commitment to fight Fascism!

Today is April 25, Italian Liberation Day, the commemoration of the end of Fascist and Nazi rule in Italy in 1945.

Like every year on this day, I take time out to browse the wonderful Archivio Luce, Italy’s historical photography and cinema library. The editors always do a 25 Aprile feature in the days leading up to the national holiday.

It’s also a day that I think back to my early years as a student in Italy in the late 1980s. Many of the parents of my friends at the time were already young adults by the time war arrived in Europe.

Many of the fathers had been soldiers in the Fascist army. They told me stories of prisoner-of-war and concentration camps where they were confined after they were captured in Russia or Africa. My professor’s father was killed by the Nazis in the terrible Cephalonia massacre in occupied Greece.

One of my early mentors in Padua, the great philologist Gianfranco Folena, had been held as a political prisoner in a concentration camp. I would sit rapt on my classroom chair as he would talk about teaching Greek to his fellow prisoners, many of whom were intellectuals like him.

There is war on the continent today and Fascist politicians continue to rise on both sides of the Atlantic. Italy’s current government is its first “post-Fascist” coalition and it openly traces its origins to Mussolini’s party.

I can only wonder what professor Folena would say today.

Just like every year, I scan the faces in the photos and try to imagine what it felt like to taste freedom after more than two decades of murderous authoritarian rule.

And every year, I renew my commitment to fight Fascism. This morning my Instagram feed is filled with posts by Italian friends and colleagues who proudly declare themselves “anti-Fascists.”

Happy Liberation Day! Long live the anti-Fascist Republic and long live our commitment to fight Fascism!

Screenshots via Archivio Luce.

Taste with me in Atlanta, Houston, Vancouver, Los Angeles, and G-d knows where else!

The crazy season of tasting is upon us!

Please join me in the following cities for events where I’ll be speaking and pouring. Thanks for your support! I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. Thank you!

Abruzzo Seminar
Houston
Tuesday, April 30

I’m leading a guided tasting of Montepulciano d’Abruzzo for the Abruzzo consortium. Even if you’ve attended my Abruzzo seminar in the past, you might be surprised by how I’ve expanded the talk. Here’s the link to reserve.

Abruzzo Dinner
Atlanta
Thursday, May 2

I’m so stoked to return to Atlanta, one of my favorite places in the U.S. Please DM me (jparzen [at] gmail) if you’d like to attend the Abruzzo dinner we are doing at Chef Pat Pascarella’s Alici. He’s doing a killer Abruzzo menu. The event is open only to trade and is free. This will be a super fun event.

Friuli Seminar
Houston
Tuesday, May 7

I’ll be pouring a wonderful flight of Friulian wines at my new Houston wine bar home, Vinsanto, on the west side. There’s a nominal fee of $30 (the wines aren’t cheap!). 7 p.m. start time. Please DM me to reserve (jparzen [at] gmail). I’ve only done one of these so far but the crowd was lovely.

Top Drop
Vancouver
Monday-Tuesday, May 13-14

I still can’t believe that I’ve been asked to be the keynote speaker at this year’s Top Drop festival in Vancouver. SO looking forward to this trip and immensely grateful to the organizers for including me. My talk is Monday, May 13, and then I’ll be hanging at the grand tasting all day on Tuesday, May 14. Let’s taste! And wow, feeling #blessed. Click here for info.

Sicily Dinner @ Rossoblu
Los Angeles
Wednesday, May 15

It’s meant so much to me to work with Rossoblu in LA where I was wine director when the now landmark restaurant opened way back when. We have an amazing flight of Sicilian wines lined up and Chef Steve Samson (my great friend since college) kills it when it comes to Sicilian cuisine. This will be another super fun one. Here’s the link to reserve.

Thank you for your support!

A prayer for peace this Passover.

I pray for peace this Passover.

It is clear that the Israel response to the Hamas attack last fall has been a catastrophic failure.

Hope for the return of hostages has dwindled. Hamas military remains active.

Israel’s response has achieved none of the declared goals.

And this must be said: the Biblical disproportion of Israeli retaliation has wantonly denied yet another generation of Palestinians its basic human rights — through fury and violence.

Whether you are an anger-filled student occupying your university campus or a late-middle-aged father seething quietly with grief for a fallen ideal, it is also clear that Israel’s moral standing in the world — its very right to exist — has been soiled by its leaders’ extremism, self-serving agenda, and disastrous lack of vision.

I pray for peace this Passover.

This season always evokes memories of my brother Aaron. He died in 1972, when he was around 15 and I was five. In the world he knew, Israel was in a golden moment of its history. Born the child of trauma, it was then a beacon of hope. The 1973 war was unimaginable.

In the years that followed that conflict, kids like me sent pocket change to groups that would plant trees in Israel — in the memory of a lost family member. I wonder if that tree still grows today.

May we all find inspiration in the Passover story and its tale of suffering and redemption.

May we all find moral strength and spiritual clarity in the community bonds we celebrate as we gather for the holiday.

May we all pray for peace in the Middle East and beyond.

Be good to Vinitaly. It’s been good to you.

It’s hard to explain the “rush,” the adrenaline you feel when you’ve got an agenda that includes ten stand visits in one day. You navigate the listing crowd of socializers and boozers who could care less that some of us are there to do business and get shit done. It’s exhausting, exhilarating, and rewarding for those seeking meaningful connections and dealmaking.

It’s Vinitaly. It never changes. And I wouldn’t miss it for anything. It’s where you see so many of your contacts, personal and professional, each year. And it’s where you make meaningful connections for the year ahead.

One of the new trends at the fair this year was the interest in low alcohol and alcohol removed wines. I was surprised to see a number of producers showing zero alcohol classic method sparkling wines.

I also tasted more than a handful of classically vinified (i.e., containing alcohol) pét-nat wines at the most unlikely of stands. In a couple of cases, well-established conventional winemakers told me that the restrained alcohol in “re-fermented in bottle” wines strikes the perfect balance for the shifting market. All the pét-nats I tasted were clean and fresh and delightful. It made me think about how important the natural and progressive wine movements have been and their positive impact on classic winemakers.

Another highlight was visiting the Slow Wine stand where I got to visit with so many old friends. They do a great job of simply celebrating their ethos: on any given day of the fair, you can find any number of “Snail” wines to sample.

Perhaps an echo of the not so optimistic outlook, some iconic producers skipped the fair this year. But most of the biggies were still there.

My Vinitaly ended beyond the fairgrounds. The last day I enjoyed a wonderful lunch at Lini 910 where I interpreted and did a talk for my client, the Lini family, super great friends.

For all there may be to complain about the fair, it brought the Italian wine world together once again. And I, for one, am glad for that. Thank you, Vinitaly.

9/11, financial crisis, Covid, world turmoil: Vinitaly, this too shall pass.

As I did my morning run along the ridge known as the Bricco di Nizza (in the literal heart of the Nizza DOCG), I remembered how my 2001 began in New York City.

I had just quit my job as an editor at La Cucina Italiana, I had a burgeoning freelance career, and I had just landed my first big copywriting client.

And then, well, we all know the tragedy that was about to happen in lower Manhattan. I ended up taking a job as a researcher and interpreter at an uptown gallery. I could barely pay my rent.

By 2007, the Italian gastronomic renaissance was in full swing. I had a job as the marketing director for a Manhattan restaurant and importing group. I was making decent money and loved the thrill of it.

And then, well, we know what happened. Thank you, Lehman Brothers!

By 2020, Tracie had been a stay-at-home mom for 10 years and I had a wonderful portfolio of clients that gave us a solid middle-class lifestyle.

And then, well…

As the Italian wine world gathers for this year’s Vinitaly (the trade fair held annually in Verona), storm clouds loom on the horizon: sales are down, interest in wine is waning, costs are soaring, and global warming is a growing menace.

I stopped along my run to have a look at the first buds of Barbera that have appeared on the vines. Nizza is a sea of yellow flowers and wild creatures right now, all enjoying the warming temperatures and sunshine.

Those buds have no knowledge of the wine industry crisis that’s taking shape. Those vines will continue to grow unaware as they ready to bear their fruit this fall.

Vinitaly, if we could get through 9/11, the financial crisis, and Covid, we can make it through this moment, too! And we will. Things will be different, sacrifices will be made. But we will make it.

If you’ll be in Verona next week, hit me up and let’s taste! Wishing everyone a great Vinitaly.

Slow Wine mourns the loss of one of its brightest stars, Paolo Camozzi.

Slow Wine mourns the loss of one its most beloved figures this week.

Paolo Camozzi, 39 years old, passed away unexpectedly last week from a sudden illness. He was the guide’s deputy editor and its leading expert on the wines of Oltrepò Pavese. He was also a professor at the Slow Food University of Gastronomic Sciences, where he had previously completed his own studies.

“We called him the ‘Big Soul,'” said Slow Wine Guide editor-in-chief Giancarlo Gariglio in an interview with Gambero Rosso — a reference to his two meters in height and his warm personality. “The nickname was inspired by his work in the field. These two words reflect how much we admired him and what a great friend he was.”

He also served as a project manager at the Adolescere foundation, a youth outreach association in Voghera.

He is survived by his partner Annalisa Sivieri and their three children.

“Tonight I’ll drink a Pinot Noir in your memory,” wrote his colleague Valentina Vercelli, another top editor for the Slow Wine Guide.

Sit tibi terra levis Paule.

(Image via the Slow Wine Facebook.)

Taste with me in Nizza, Verona, Houston, Atlanta, Los Angeles…

It’s the thing I enjoy most about my career in wine: sharing the joy of our work with like-minded souls.

Next week, my client Amistà will be hosting me at their Country House agriturismo Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday (April 10-12) in the heart of the Nizza DOCG.

The pad lies right on the Bricco di Nizza, one of the best crus in the appellation. Check it out here. It’s badass!

I’ll just be chilling and hanging out, pouring wine for anyone who wants to stop by and chat and taste. If you’re on your way to Langhe before the fair, you’ll literally drive right by. Stop and see me for a glass or a bite. There will even be a guitar hanging around.

On Sunday and Monday of next week (April 14-15), you’ll find me at Vinitaly, the mega trade fair in Verona.

Ping me and let’s taste. I’ll definitely be spending a lot of time in the Abruzzo pavilion on both days. Hit me up!

But then wait, there’s more!

Dallas, Monday, April 29: I’ll be tasting (although not pouring) at Gambero Rosso.

Houston, Tuesday, Apri 30: I’ll be leading an Abruzzo seminar in my adoptive hometown. I’ve been developing this presentation since I first did it at Texsom last summer. I think people will find it compelling.

Atlanta, Thursday, May 2: I’ll be hosting/leading an Abruzzo dinner in one of my favorite cites in the U.S. Can’t wait to get back there.

Los Angeles, Wednesday, May 15: I’ll be leading a Sicilian wine dinner at Rossoblu with my friend (since junior year abroad) Chef Steve Samson.

There are other dates on the horizon and I’ll share them when they come into focus.

In the meantime, I hope I get to connect with you in coming months. Thank you, as always, for the support.

See you on the other side next week!

A new definition for natural wine: it’s the people who are “natural,” not the wine.

One of the most compelling and thought-provoking visits of my year so far was my stop at Emidio Pepe in northern Abruzzo in February.

Chiara Pepe, the current generation of this legendary wine family, is now vineyard manager and winemaker. Her embrace of her family’s literally epic viticultural legacy would be a subject for a book. Those are no small shoes to fill.

But it was her philosophical reflections that were so captivating that day. That’s her in the vineyards checking in with the workers who are about to begin pruning. Note the moka coffeemaker on the portable stove.

She talked at length about how vineyard managers tend to focus solely on phototropism, the reaction of plants and animals to light. Geotropism, she explained, is equally important: the reaction of plants and animals to gravity.

Increasingly, she explained, our understanding of geotropism and solar radiation in the soil should be reshaping the way we approach grape growing.

One of her major long-term projects is planting woods around the family’s vineyards in order to regulate solar radiation. She’s thinking of the generation to come and the impact of climate change over coming decades.

There was so much to savor in our conversation. But the thing that really got me was when I asked her the simple question, would you call your wines “natural”?

Her answer: It’s not the wines that are natural. It’s the people, the winemakers who live their lives in balance with nature.

Alice Feiring once told me that she defines natural wine as an ideal, as in a Platonic ideal to reach for.

Chiara’s brilliant answer to my dumb question seemed to dovetail with what Alice told me so many years ago. It really captured, at least in my mind, the ethos of the natural wine movement.

Thank you, Chiara, for one of the most fascinating visits of my career. Your wines are yet another reason I can’t wait to get back to my beloved Abruzzo, a region I am proud to represent as its U.S. ambassador.

How a Muslim and a Jew bonded over wine. Generous Ramadan and happy Easter. May peace be on earth.

Something remarkable happened along my Uber ride from downtown Denver to Denver International Airport earlier this week.

Are you from Denver or are you heading home? the driver queried.

Back home to Houston, I replied.

Were you in town for business? What do you do for a living?

I work in the wine business.

What’s the best value in wine today?

Chilean.

Is red wine really good for your heart?

No.

What kind of wine do you like to drink?

Mostly Italian.

Why do Christians believe that wine is the blood of Christ?

I’m not a Christian, I said politely. I’m a Jew. But I believe that the Christian tradition comes from the Jewish tradition, where wine is a miracle.

A silence followed. I think both of us were eager to find out what would come next.

He was a Persian who grew up in a religious family in Afghanistan, he told me. No alcohol was consumed in his home or community. But he was curious to learn more about wine, he shared.

We talked about the city of Shiraz in Iran. We talked about Turkish wine.

And then — I’m not sure how we got there — we talked about the war in Gaza.

Our tone turned somber and introspective. We agreed that our religions all seek the same thing — to be closer to G-d. Politics and personality cults are what lead people astray from the divine word, whether the Torah, the Quran, or the New Testament.

When we got to the airport, he got out of the car to help me with my bag. We shook hands warmly.

I enjoyed our conversation.

So did I.

Generous Ramadan and happy Easter, everyone. May peace be on earth.

(Photo: the Brown Palace Hotel in downtown Denver.)