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In the falling light of a hot July day in Tuscany , my travelling companion and I sat down on the patio of a small town trattoria for dinner . Cypress trees framed the scene , and lyrical voices of Italian customers were the soundtrack . It was the perfect end to a lovely day . We ordered a modest Chianti — a Sangiovese-based wine from the hills of Colli Senesi , by a producer I had never heard of .
I was enjoying myself . No phone was ringing to remind me of a deadline . No appointments were on the schedule — in fact , there was no schedule . A simple pizza came to the table , a freshly made crust topped with bufala mozzarella and a few slices of grilled vegetables . It was drizzled with extra virgin olive oil
Sylvia Jansen , Sommelier ( ISG , CMS ), CSW
and topped with fragrant oregano . The wine ’ s fruit and spice aromas floated above this simple meal in a little dance .
To ensure we would remember that dinner , we pulled out our cameras . Sure , I could see the restaurant staff staring at us while we took close-ups of food , the wine label , and water bottle . It was probably routine for them to see tourists taking pictures while dining in beautiful Tuscany . But for tourists to take pictures of wine and food , well , that was probably just a bit too weird . I imagined them in the kitchen , laughing that out on the patio people were doing a photo shoot of Franco ’ s little brother ’ s pizza . Well , I was willing to be their comic relief . I needed to make it real by connecting those lush flavours and fragrances with a place and time .
The trouble with travelling is that some souvenirs come back home more easily than others . Things are easy to bring . But that vacation taste — a wonderful dinner , a brilliant wine pairing , aromas — these are infuriatingly impossible . Sometimes we are tempted to find that exact same wine at home to recapture the experience . But a great wine memory , like any great memory , is evasive . Even if the same wine comes home , it ’ s not the same . The circumstances have changed . The light is different . Deadlines loom . The phone rings . The memory of that fabulous taste blurs into oblivion . So when I travel , I let myself look ridiculous by photographing wine labels . It helps .
More important , though , are details that help me remember the personality of the wine itself : the wine ’ s origin , quality , price , aromas , and the food match that made it beautiful . All of these will help me talk about taste without needing to pull the cork of the exact same wine — or going back to that same trattoria ( where they might still be talking about me !).
With wine , talking taste is remembering whether it was full-bodied and robust , or light and airy ; whether it was full-on fruity , or an aromatic mix of spice , herbs , and wood . Those bits of memory are infinitely more helpful in re-creating the taste than the frustrating search for a wine not available in our market .
That little trattoria in Tuscany helped me recall the simple pleasure of an honest , modest Chianti paired with a meal of a few ingredients , enjoyed in a casual atmosphere with good friends . It really doesn ’ t matter that I do not have that exact wine . I can invite a few friends over , open another nice Chianti , and stand in the kitchen nibbling on a simple pizza we made ourselves from a few good ingredients . Then we can talk taste , and take pictures of the food .
So here ’ s to you , with good taste memories . � www . banvilleandjones . com 59