Apologies for the delay in the telling of our Italy story---life has gotten in the way with work and travel and events of late, but I'm getting back on track. Fair warning, this one is long. You may want to grab snacks.
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As we were planning our Italy trip, I knew that in addition to the big spots, I really wanted to try to see some of the Tuscan countryside, and we were both pretty enthusiastic at the possibility of wine tasting Italian style.
In Florence, where we had the most time and were closest in proximity to said countryside, we decided to explore our options. With the help of the amazing folks at the Four Seasons, we found ourselves hooked up with an all-day private driver to show us around and arrange wine tastings wherever we'd like.
It was a bit of a splurge, so we waffled momentarily on whether or not we should do it, before we finally looked at each other over a glass of pinot noir in the glamorous hotel bar and said "we're in Italy, why are we even talking about this, of course we're doing it!" And with that, we had our trip to the country and our wine tasting experience secured. We went to dinner and enjoyed a lovely Florentine evening, happy that we'd been able to fit this experience into the trip, and very excited for the day ahead.
Alessandro, our driver, was adorable, friendly and over-the-top eager to ensure we had the best possible experience. Before we even left the Four Seasons, he asked us questions and had a good idea of the places he'd like to show us. His English was terrific, but when he didn't fully understand, he'd respond enthusiastically with "yes!" no matter what you'd said. It was as charming as it sounds. We were so excited, and we had no idea how much we'd enjoy the magical day in front of us.
So you can really come along on this lovely little journey, here is Alessandro, conversing with the Husband:
Isn't he sweet? And here I am, consulting our map of "Chianti Classico," the countryside region that we'd collectively agreed was our destination for the day:
Italy makes what is arguably the best chianti in the world, and this specific region, just beyond Florence, is the heart of that production. The wine is made from the sangiovese grape, and the Black Rooster is the sign that marks a bottle of wine certified from this region. The labels are pink with a red circle for regular wine, and a gold circle for reserve wines. Here's a visual:
Having been suitably educated on the region and its wine expertise, we set out for the country. Within 20 minutes, the views outside our windows were stunning. If I had my pick of any place in the world to buy a vacation home, I think I'd be hard pressed to find somewhere that would beat Tuscany's countryside. We stopped many times, Alessandro expertly navigating our excursion and pulling over at the "best" spots to see the vast land and vineyards and Cypress and Olive trees that surrounded us on all sides.
We passed a centuries old church, maybe the smallest I've ever seen, and Alessandro dutifully pointed it out to us with plenty of warning so we could be ready with the camera. I easily imagined generations of villagers filling the pews to worship on Sundays, and was amazed at the intricate detailing of the tiny structure. It is evident that it was lovingly built with very skilled hands:
Now that we'd gotten a taste of what we were in for, Alessandro informed us that he'd called ahead to a good friend of his and gotten us into a half day tasting at a "great place."
We entered the grounds of Verrazzano, and from the moment we turned onto the drive, I was smitten and enthralled and head over heels in love. This is where the story gets really good.
Verrazzano is a family owned winery run by an amazing and spirited man named Gino with the help of his American wife and his small staff. We meet him immediately upon arrival and he warmly welcomes us, sniffling constantly due to his Cypress allergy. We also meet Maggie from New Hampshire and her parents; Maggie is living in Rome with her husband for a year, and runs her own wine and cheese shop back home. Her father is a surgeon, but his hobby is making wine of his own, so this is an excellent family to join for a wine tasting and tour. They are lovely and fun, and we banter back and forth all day, fitting easily together and very much enjoying each others company.
Elena rounds out our small group---she is a lovely woman who teaches American college students Italian, but having grown weary of that gig, is now training to work with Gino at Verrazzano. She takes notes in her little book all day long, and says "Brava!" every time I attempt a word or phrase in Italian. I can see immediately what a wonderful teacher she must be, and I develop a pretty strong girl crush as the day goes on. With our group fully assembled, we follow Gino on a tour of the outside grounds of the house and vineyards.
Everything is picturesque and lovingly kept up, and there is a graceful peace that envelops you when you arrive and stays with you long after you've gone. Not to sound cheesy, but the place has an almost spiritual feel to it, and it is obvious from the start that everyone who works there is passionate about the wine, the grounds, and each other.
Before we go inside, Gino tells us how important it is to love the land, to understand that the land gives you grapes which allows you to make and "bring wine to the world." Throughout the afternoon, he will say again and again, "the grapes were here first." As I listen to him, I can't help but think how amazing it would be to go to work each day with such passion in your heart and such love for every single aspect of what you do. Inside is warm and cozy and lined with all varieties of barrels---small, medium and large---hosting all sorts of wines in various stages of the aging process. It is overwhelming to see how immense the collection is, how complex and planned the process, how wine truly gets into the bottle that we so casually pop open and drink without much thought.
Toward the end of the tour, Gino makes me cry for the first of about three times that day when he gathers us together to "say a few words" before we head inside to taste and have lunch. He speaks again of his love for this special place, for the land and grapes and every single drop of wine. He talks of good years and bad, of the dependency on weather and other elements completely beyond human control. He recites a poem in Italian by Lorenzo the Magnificent and then translates into English. It is beautiful, and I try in vain to keep the tears from spilling onto my cheeks. [I am still begging Google to find this poem for me so I can post it here---no luck yet!].
He makes us all laugh when he says Italian children drink sips of wine regularly; he doesn't understand why it is forbidden in America until the age of 21. To him "wine is life, and life is wine." When he says it, we don't laugh and I think each of us actually believes it, so infectious is his generosity and passion. He thanks us for coming to visit them, and says, "my friends...eat drink and love---and don't be afraid of death." I'm pretty sure I can work with that advice, yes?
We head inside to taste the wine we've been hearing about, and encounter more stunning views as we go:
Inside, we wash up and gather around a beautifully set table and out of nowhere, wine appears in front of each of us. Gino teaches us to properly smell the wine, notice its patterns on the glass and understand what they mean, hold the taste in our palettes and pair with the perfect foods. The staff serves an amazing lunch; it is the best of the trip and to this day, I think longingly about that lovely plate of food.
Gino toasts us, thanking us for sharing our lives with him and wishing us well, and I hide my tears behind my wine glass as I wish him the same, and then some. We eat then, and drink our wine, and soon part ways with our new friends, after exchanging email addresses and promising to become Facebook friends. As we pull away from beautiful Verrazzano, I say to Beeg "I will always remember this day."
We explore more countryside, stop at a small winery for another mini tasting, and I can't get enough of their lavender scented everything. I wash my hands with their soap, and smell lavender all day long and into the night. We wander around a tiny village, mostly deserted, but lovingly cared for all the same. We stand atop a church that looks more like a castle, and wander the aisles of a tiny wine shop and the private cellar and wine collection of its owner. I stand on their tiny balcony and watch springtime exploding all around me. We visit an actual military fortress and I walk around in awe, half expecting armed Roman soldiers in full armor to come around the corner at any moment, and imagine an entire village seeking protection behind those high walls atop a gorgeous hill.
We load into the car and head for the freeway that will take us back to Florence, and we're lost in thought relishing our fabulous day. I have a sudden light-bulb moment, turn to BJ and say "OMG, babe right now I am literally under the Tuscan sun!" He laughs and we leave Chianti Classico clutching our bottles of wine, so happy with our decision to add this day trip to our itinerary.
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