Wine is More Than Fine by Barbara Quinn

Forget the water and bring on the wine. I’ve mentioned before that I was raised in an Italian-American household where wine was introduced without fuss during childhood. Fortunately, there were no alcoholics in my family and thus no fear that drinking could lead to alcoholism. Instead, we were able to enjoy our meals with every type of wine.

Back then there was a jug of Hearty Burgundy under the kitchen sink (oh no!)for our daily drinking. I didn’t care for it and was relieved when in summer we could slice the peaches from our yard into a pitcher of the wine to sweeten away the harshness. There was Cold Duck on special occasions and Vermouth before dinner. There were Chiantis, the ones with straw around the bottle. Most of the wines we drank were red, though I do remember my grandmother bringing bottles of Lacryma Christi(tears of Christ)a legendary southern Italian wine whose vines are said to have sprung from Christ's tears. My grandfather wielded a silver canister of seltzer to make us all the first version of wine spritzers. And he made terrible dandelion wine!

In college I drank the sweet stuff: Yago Sangria or Mateus Rose. As time passed I discovered the world of dry wine. French Chablis, Graves, Fumes, and Meursault, California Chardonnay, Italian Pinot Grigio. French Rhones, California Cabernets, Oregon Pinot Noirs, Spanish Tempranillos, Argentinian Malbecs.

It’s been a wonderful journey around the world via wine. My current favorites are reds: Pinot Noirs, Barolos, Barberas, Nero D’avolas, and Bordeaux (2005 was an excellent year so if you see any bargains from then snap them up!) When I do drink the occasional glass of white it’s likely to be a Viognier.

And the best thing about wine? More and more studies show that it’s good for your heart and may prevent ageing. So drink up. It's good for your health! And I am grateful for the grape.

Salud!

Slowing Down Mid-day by Barbara Quinn

In Sicily they still shut down mid-day for about a 4 hour break. Other than restaurants and bars everyone is at home enjoying themselves between the hours of 12 or 1 to 4 or 4:30. Then it’s back to work again till 8 PM. That means there are four rush hours. Outside the big cities it’s not very crowded and the tiny roads are able to handle the rush home. How wonderful to be able to be with your family mid-day for a meal, a nap, and a little love. Life has a different rhythm. The dinner hour often begins at 10 PM and afterwards there is a “passeggiata” – a walk around the town square or along the ocean where all ages take a healthy, long stroll. I enjoyed joining the crowd walking along, studying the shoes which are the best giveaway to nationality. (We left the sneakers and baseball caps at home!)

As tourists, the mid-day hours were a good time to take a drive out to the countryside. We drove past shuttered shops and were often the only car in remote villages. Even the gas stations were closed. Luckily some of them have machines that will take your cash and allow you to fill up. One day we put in more money than we needed. The machine spit out a piece of paper that we stared at. A young boy on a bike came over. Eventually we understood that he wanted to help us out. He took the receipt to a closed shop where he knew the owner and returned with our cash. We were more than happy to reward him with a tip. Then we headed off to a local bar for an espresso and a chat with the few locals who were hanging out.

It’s fascinating to see how different cultures approach life and to learn that there are many ways to fill the twenty-four hours of each day. We commute too long and far to adopt this lifestyle in the States. Could you imagine the local mall shutting down between 12 and 4? But what a thrill and pleasure it was to be a part of it for a short time.

What They Gave Me by Nannette Croce

Like so many I am all too ready to blame my parents for what I did or didn’t do in life. Growing up with an extended Italian family I can spread the blame around to aunts and uncles as well. But in recent years, as most of them have passed away or aged, I’m softening my view and seeing what I gained from each of those people who played such major role in my formative years.

My Mom gave me my quick wit, heightened sense of justice, and fashion sense.

My Dad, the Engineer, gave me my organizational skills, my logical approach to problem solving, and my slightly more tempered ambition.

My Aunt Jeannette, the intellectual of the family, gave me a love of history and also entrusted to me all the important family papers and journals, even though I was not the oldest, but knowing I would most appreciate them. Uncle Fred, the only non-Italian, taught me how the rest of the world lives and that with an open mind and a big heart, you will never be an outsider.

Aunt Thelma, with no children of her own, told wonderful stories and taught me not to forget my inner child, even when I had one of my own. While her artistic ability skipped my generation, she passed it to two grandnieces. Uncle Bill, the “gregarious one” taught me how to enjoy good wine and the society of friends and family, and, eventually, how to accept death with grace and dignity.

Yes, there were drawbacks growing up with so many people poking noses into my business, but as the years pass on, I realize it’s the benefits that maintained the strongest hold.