From the Alps and Apennines, to Sicily.

My dearest Cape Chef,

Dear Abby may currently be living in isolation, but news arrives even to the most remote of ranches. She has heard many stories about your vast knowledge of wine, but your inquiry about Italian Wines struck her like a hurricane!

My dear Cape Chef, Dear Abby is pleased to see that not only are you an ingenious cook, but you do not forget our younger generation. You wish to share your knowledge of the grape with them, do you not? Dear Abby cannot otherwise explain this sudden interest, which coincides with La Luna di Marzio...The Moon of March when in Italy the wines are bottled.

Zut alors!

So, my pets. Put aside those average books, such as the Oxford Companion to Wine. M. Cchiu, do not torture Google, my dear. Dear Abby will share her precious life experience from the not-so-remote days of her youth, in an attempt to help Sir Cape Chef with his educational duties.

From the region of Piemonte, Dear Abby would suggest you, Cape Chef to look for the following varieties:

Barbera
Gavi
Dolcetto d'Alba
Griniglino del Monferrato Casalese

Of course there are many more but these varieties may be represented by some very powerful vintages.

Dear Abby would choose to introduce someone to the Barbera variety with a Rosignano Monferato (of her amico Carlo Cassini who used to be in love with Dear Abby, but she does not kiss and tell). Very inviting, well balanced with a fruity bouquet! Your client, Cape Chef, will no doubt enjoy this wine.

Dear Abby would choose the Gavi variety to explain to the children that the Italians make the distinctions between white and "yellowish" wines. There are many vineyards for Gavi, none related to Dear Abby.

A Prunnote (Dolcetto d'Alba), with its distinctive harmony in acidity in a perfect comparison with a flowery bouquet, will inevitably bring to Dear Abby's memory a night under the stars of the Piemontese sky, the music of the violins of Paganini burning in her ears. Ah, but Dear Abby digresses.

Lastly, my love, Dear Abby would propose to a chef of your calibre to try to cook even once with Tortona. Facing the danger of the slippery path of melodrama, Dear Abby would declare from the bottom of her wounded heart that the old Latin quote: "Sine vinum, nulla Venus" (without wine the Goddess of Love won't visit you) was inspired by this nectar.

Dear Abby feels tired. The memories of Italy inspired by these wines both touches and breaks Abby's heart. She must rest.

She will come back with her adventures in the land of Tuscany, where she went to pick up flowers so as to create her personal parfum.

Au revoir. Or perhaps she should say, arrivederci.


Abby

Ciao mio Cape Chef!

Dear Abby thanks you for your kind response. She is a woman of her word so now she will give her humble input regarding the wines of Tuscany. Athenaeus, my dear, do not torture your eyes searching for answers to Cape Chef’s questions. Let those with more experience talk.

Trying to survive a heartache (before her dearest George, you understand), Dear Abby once joined an archaeological expedition to Tuscany, Italy. The expedition was a rather hopeless attempt to solve the mystery of Etruscans. Although the origins of the Etruscans may remain unsolved, archaeological excavations have provided us, the contemporary gossipers, with useful information regarding their everyday life.

The Etruscans, as you must know my dear Cape Chef, were an agricultural people. Their presence in Italy coincides with the arrival of the grape plant from Greece. So, the Etruscans learned from the Greeks how to make wine! But Dear Abby will share a detail which has not yet been published. Her source must remain anonymous though. As mentioned above, Dear Abby may kiss, but she does not tell. My dearest Chef Talk members, please understand that Dear Abby is allowing you to have access to information before an official announcement.

As you know, excavations in Etruscan cemeteries have provided us with most of the available information regarding this mysterious civilization. Recent excavations in an “urban” area have revealed their wineries. The Etruscans were pressing the grape and the grape juice was placed into large clay pots that they were buried to the soil. A good fermentation, of course, requires stable conditions. The soil provides those conditions.

I hope that this nearly secret information will have satisfied dearest Cape Chef’s uncontrollable appetite for History.

Dear Abby, wouldn’t want to be in Sir Cape Chef’s shoes while he chooses between the wines from Toscana, the Land of Divine Chianti to propose to his clients.
- Chianti
- Rosso di Moltalcino
- Chianti Colli Senese
- Vernaccia di San Gimignano

Cape Chef is a certified connoisseur of Italian Wines do he doesn’t need Dear Abby to comment on the misadventures of Chianti Wines during the last years. It is well known that the excessive demand of those wines from our country resulted in a dramatic fall in their quality.

Dear Abby though, after a visit to beloved and Bella Italia, is happy to inform you that the Chianti producers have made a delightful recovery. At last! The days of yellowish liquids of high acidity that were sold as Chianti wines seem to belong to the past.

Try this little gem, the Conte Zandotti of her dear friend, Marco Ciarla, who had quite a presence in the Grand Prix du Lyon last year. Quite a harmonious bouquet, the high for Dear Abby’s palate alcoholic degrees (12,5) play respectfully with the distinctive flower bouquet of Toscana.

Arrivederci e la Fortuna Buona,

Abby

Oh, dearest Cape Chef.

Dear Abby has made one of those dreadful faux pas so common to the internet forum. Athenaeus, will you ever forgive Dear Abby? Of course you have probably studied many books on the subject of the Etruscans. You and Dear Abby should share thoughts in more detail one day, my pet.

The truth is, of course, that Dear Abby did not want to share the attention of one Cape Chef.

She is devastated to have to admit this.

Avec l'honte.

Abby

I see Dear Abby that the forum is facing the risk of you commiting harakiri.
So let's forget about the whole issue :)

I have some objections regarding your posts but it's terribly late for my Internet persona and me to explain how they were fermeting wines on Santorini Greece in clay pots burried under the soil in the year 3000 BC.

Judging by the syntax of the sentence typed above, I must go to bed :)

My dear, forgiving, Athenaeus,

Dear Abby thanks you so kindly for your forbearance. One day, my love, Athenaeus and Dear Abby will sit down over a nice glass of wine and discuss all!

Kiss!

Abby

Of course, Mr. Cape Chef,

Dear Abby meant no harm. She looks forward to reading more of your interesting thoughts on the wines of Tuscany.

Abby

Dear Cape Chef.

Our dear friend, Kyle's agony to find an appropriate dessert for his friends touched Dear Abby's heart. She has been busy providing him with Henri's lovely torte recipe. You understand that she must often copy these recipes in the dead of night! So, she has had to place her memories of Tuscany on temporary hold, but she is now back at your service Monsieur Chef of the Cape.

Oh The Isle of Elba. Dear Abby, of course, makes it a point to visit the island every year (when at all possible) on the 5th of May. She feels obliged to participate in the Memorial Service of un Grand Homme: Napoleon.

Maybe the wines of Elba are not so good, Monsieur Chef of the Cape, because of the tears that fall in them. Tears of mourning for glorious days of a country that used to be great.

Have you ever considered that?

Dear Abby had the privilege to taste Candia dei colli Apuani in Lyon's Grad Prix last year.

You, Cape Chef, know better than Dear Abby, those wines are exceptional indeed. Be certain, however, that you can provide your client with this wine on a regular basis as distribution is often difficult.

You mentioned Trebbiano. Dear Abby is not persuaded that the definition of an exceptional wine coincides with Trebbiano. Since you insist, she suggests Trebbiano d'Abbruzo. Yellowish, with a bouquet of vanilla that you enjoy may very much.

Voilà!


Abby

My dear friend,

You raise some intriguing points, M. Cape Chef. Dear Abby will need to ponder these thoughts most closely.

Cutesy you say? Dear Abby declaims, no, merely overly sentimental. You understand, of course?

Abby