Virtual Gourmet

NEWSLETTER

❖❖❖

IN THIS ISSUE
TEN THINGS THAT NEVER GET
OLD ABOUT A BISTRO
By John Mariani

NEW YORK CORNER
LOVE AND PIZZA
CHAPTER 44
By John Mariani

NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR
TENUTA DI ARCENO Q&A
By John Mariani

❖❖❖

On the next video episode of Celebrating Act 2 on January 27, I will be speaking with hosts John Coleman and Art Kirsch about the topic of "Do Corporate Restaurant Groups Offer Better Quality?" Go to: CA2.

❖❖❖

TEN THINGS THAT NEVER GET
OLD ABOUT A BISTRO

By John Mariani

         “Fashion,” said French couturier Coco Chanel (left), “is made to go out of style,” and as I read about how insects are the hot new menu item or about a restaurant in Brooklyn where dinner is held in total silence, I wag my head and consider that, like pizzerias in Naples, pubs in Dublin, and dumpling houses in Canton, the traditional French bistro has never been out of style, because, like work boots, they were never deliberately stylish in the first place.
         I owe a great deal to the French bistro, where I ate my first meal in Paris, alone in the Gare du Nord at the age of nineteen. My high school French allowed me to decipher little on a menu listing suprêmes de volaille, potage Saint-Germain, quenelles de brochet, and tripes à la mode Caen, but I spotted blanquette de veau (right), which sounded like a homey veal dish.
     When the pudgy, black-jacketed, white-aproned waiter brought a large ceramic casserole to my table and lifted the lid, the steamy aroma of cream, veal and green beans hit me with the force of tear gas, but the tears were of joy, not pain. The ingredients of the dish melded in such exquisitely simple flavors that I realized I had never had food this good. Accompanied by a paper-wrapped baguette and a carafe of Beaujolais, I experienced a true epiphany that, without my knowing it then, would someday set me off on a career writing about good food and wine.
         The pleasures of a French bistro—however twisted the meaning of the word has become to describe just about any small restaurant of any stripe—have never waned, even if the term covers a lot of non-bistro restaurants and the food has nudged somewhat towards contemporary taste And here’s why they’ll never get old.

1. Bistros are neighborhood restaurants, set on a corner or in a cul-de-sac, not on grand boulevards or in malls. They are family places—often mom-and-pop owned—where other families dine on Sundays or special occasions, and where the older aunts and uncles are assured they will have their favorite dish made as it was years and years ago.

2. Bistros are built for sheer comfort: Lace curtains hang in the windows, the floors are of colored tiles, copper pots hang on the walls, the tablecloths are stiff, the chairs sturdy, the banquettes always red or brown leather and the old mirrors are slightly tilted to give everyone a better look at everyone else. There are newspapers for the solo diner to read and catch up. Always lively but never raucous, the ambiance of a bistro is the epitome of bonhomie. Everyone is happy for a little while.

3. Before you even read the menu, there will be good crusty bread and abundant butter on the table, along with a pot of fresh flowers, or one single flower. A votive candle will be lighted at night. You may be offered a complimentary apéritif—a little white Port perhaps, a finger of vermouth.

4. Bistros are fast paced, for, while there’s no reason you can’t spend hours there over coffee and cognac, the service is always brisk, the food starts coming out moments after you order, the wine cork is popped and the wine poured as you break off your first morsel of bread; the check is delivered within seconds of your asking for it, and the staff’s thank-you’s and au revoirs are proffered without feigned flourish.

5. Bistro menus change their specials daily—depending on which region the owner comes from, it might be cassoulet on Monday, choucroute on Wednesday, or bouillabaisse (left) on Friday—but the basic menu is always pretty much the same in season, so that each dish has been perfected by long practice, day after day, six days and nights each week. So, even if one bistro’s onion soup gratinée doesn't taste quite like another’s, it will always taste the same in each. The crisp-skinned roast chicken will always be from an impeccable source, the frites cut fresh, the snails will always arrive sizzling in their shells with an intense perfume of garlic and parsley. The filet of sole will be sautéed then lavished with brown butter as it leaves the kitchen. The tarte Tatin will be abundant with soft apples, thick with caramel and mounded with crème fraîche.

6. Bistros always serve charcuterie (right), not always made on the premises but bought from a neighborhood store that makes saucisson sec and saucisson chaud, andouille, boudin noir, cervelas, rosette e lyon, and crêpinette, along with pâtés and terrines, sharp brown mustard and tangy green gherkins.

7. Bistros serve plenty of offal, from calf’s liver (below) to kidneys, brains to tongue, head cheese to tail, and the fish is delivered to the back door fresh from Rungis market, where it was unloaded in the middle of the night with seafood from the Mediterranean and North Atlantic.

8. Bistro wine lists are both dependable and modestly priced, with a few rare bottles the owner keeps for special guests. There will be plenty of vins de Pays, regional wines from the Loire Valley and Provence, and some will be offered by the carafe.

9. Since bistros are neighborhood restaurants, most do not dare charge exorbitantly, except Paris tourist traps like L’Amis Louis, where the roast chicken for two runs $130 and everyone eating there is either American or Chinese.

10. Most good bistros have a story behind them, usually involving artists, musicians, theater and movie people who became their habitués over decades—because bistros are not fashionable, not trendy, not flanked by paparazzi. In Montmarte it might have been Picasso and Braque, on Montparnasse Hemingway (right) and Dos Passos (far right), in Greenwich Village Eugene O’Neill and Tennessee Williams. There are good stories beyond those doors, and they usually begin with a platter of iced oysters and a half-liter of Chablis

❖❖❖

NEW YORK CORNER

LOVE AND PIZZA

Since, for the time being, I am unable to write about or review New York City restaurants, I have decided instead to print a serialized version of my (unpublished) novel Love and Pizza, which takes place in New York and Italy and involves a young, beautiful Bronx woman named Nicola Santini from an Italian family impassioned about food. As the story goes on, Nicola, who is a student at Columbia University, struggles to maintain her roots while seeing a future that could lead her far from them—a future that involves a career and a love affair that would change her life forever. So, while New York’s restaurants remain closed, I will run a chapter of the Love and Pizza each week until the crisis is over. Afterwards I shall be offering the entire book digitally. I hope you like the idea and even more that you will love Nicola, her family and her friends. I’d love to know what you think. Contact me at loveandpizza123@gmail.com
—John Mariani

To read previous chapters go to archive (beginning with March 29, 2020, issue.

LOVE AND PIZZA

By John Mariani

Cover Art By Galina Dargery

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

         New York’s weather both fascinated and astounded Marco di Noè. On January 15 the temperature dropped to eight degrees—the coldest of the year. For a Neapolitan like Marco the cutting frigidity of the air was startling, and more than once he asked himself how people in New York could live this way. Then three days later the temperature hit 63; starting on the 28th snow fell for four days in a row.
         His job and his painting were going well, though the former demanded little that month because the Harrisons had gone off to Colorado to ski. So Marco was able to spend time painting and seeing Nicola, who did indeed invite him up to Belmont. On one of the warmer days, he took the train from Grand Central up to Fordham, where Nicola met him, then they walked along Fordham Road, past the university, then turned onto Arthur Avenue.
         Within two blocks Marco began commenting on similarities to Naples. The buildings were lower and the streets broader than Spaccanapoli’s, and the streets had all English names, left over from the original Anglo and Dutch settlers of the Bronx. But when he began seeing all the Italian names on store signs, he had a sense of being far closer to home than he did on Fifth Avenue.
        He was not surprised that some of the merchants put out their refuse onto the curb, especially since clearing away the snow had been hampered by cars parked on both sides of the street. He saw no Fiats; instead, there were mostly big American cars—Buicks, Oldsmobiles, Mercurys, Lincolns, Cadillacs, along with smaller Japanese models, Toyotas, Nissans, Subarus.
         The first thing Nicola did was to bring him to her family’s apartment.
        “See,” she said, putting on false airs, “I live in a duplex too!” It was the middle of the day, so only her mother was home, and Anna welcomed the Neapolitan warmly in dialect—hers was much better than Nicola’s—and apologized for not making him lunch.
        “Nicola said she wanted you to see our son’s restaurant, Alla Teresa, so I was forbidden to cook this time. But you come back and we’ll have a big family dinner. You look a little skinny.”
         “He’s a starving artist,” said Nicola, holding Marco’s arm.
         “Okay,” said Anna, “we’ll fatten him up.”
         With that, the couple left the house and walked over to Alla Teresa, where Tony’s first words to Marco were, “I hear you’re the best cook in Italy.”
         Marco said, “Ah, maybe just on Capri. It’s very, very small.”
         “Well, I hope you like how we cook here. It’s a little different, Italian-American, but it’s good food. So, we start off with a pizza?”
         Nicola was thrilled by the prospect of showing off Alla Teresa’s pizza alla margherita, and Tony, winking at his sister, sat them right under the photo of her made up like Claudia Cardinale, which Marco looked hard at.
         “Nicolina, is that you?”
         “That’s me. My first modeling job in Milan.”
         “You look almost as beautiful as Claudia Cardinale as you do Nicola Santini,” he said, framing her face with his fingers as if taking a photo.
         The pizza arrived and Marco eyed it critically. “Hm, looks very good,” he said, serving Nicola the first slice. “But it’s so big!”
         Nicola told him that in America everything is big, including the pizzas. “You’re supposed to share it.”
         Marco took his first bite, then another, shaking his head and saying, “Nicolina, c’e perfetto! The crust is very good, a little soft in the middle and with the burned bubbles. I love this pizza!”
         Tony had joined the conversation. “So we make a pretty good pizza here, Marco? Nicky told me about the one she had in Naples.”
         Marco began to clap his hand softly. “Tony, I thought I would never say this—because I’ve had some pizzas in New York in the past month—but nothing like this. Bravissimo, Tonino! Bravissimo!”
         Tony took a little bow and said, “I hope everything else lives up to the pizza. Lemme go see how things are going back in the kitchen.”
         While waiting, Marco looked over the menu, reading dish after dish he’d never heard of and looking very confused.
         “Nicolina,” he said, “what are these dishes? I’ve never heard of chicken parmigiana, clams Posillipo, mussels Golf di Napoli, penne alla vodka. Are these Tony’s creations?”
         Nicola explained that they were dishes that the immigrants named when they opened restaurants in New York. “Most of them had never eaten at a restaurant in, say, Naples, but they were good cooks and so they adapted what they knew to American ingredients and named them after their hometowns.”
         Marco was still puzzled and, when the first dishes began to come out from the kitchen, he was startled by the enormity of the portions. “Are these for two people?” he asked.
         Nicola laughed and said, “No, but that’s another part of the story. The immigrants found that food was pretty cheap here, and since they never had enough to eat in the Old Country, they took advantage of their good fortune. Plus, Americans have always been used to huge portions.”
         Marco enjoyed the food—a cold octopus salad, spaghetti with vongole clams in their shells, and shrimp scampi. This last caused him to comment, “But these are not scampi; they’re shrimp.”
         Nicola further explained that true scampi—prawns—were rarely available in American fish markets, so they used jumbo shrimp. “I know it’s a silly name, but it’s come to mean shrimp cooked in garlic and white wine.”
         Tony also served the couple a sixteen-ounce New York strip steak with garlicky sautéed broccoli di rape. Marco pronounced the steak to be the best beef he’d ever tasted.
         With the meal they drank a good bottle of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. The couple was too full for dessert, so they just had espresso, which came with a lemon rind. Marco held it up and said, “Why do they give you this?”
         “I don’t really know,” said Nicola. “I heard it’s because the coffee used to be very poor quality, so the lemon cut the bitterness. At least that’s the story.”
         Marco found this very odd but shrugged and said, “I have a lot to learn. You know, I’ve been to a couple of so-called ‘Northern Italian’ restaurants in New York but they also have all these dishes I’ve never heard of. And why do they all serve salmon, salmon, salmon? Italians don't eat salmon.”
         Sensing Marco was frustrated by what he’d seen and tasted, Nicola was a bit anxious asking him what he thought of Alla Teresa’s food. “Be honest,” she said.
         Marco finished his coffee and said, “It’s good. The ingredients are good quality and the food tastes fresh. The shrimp maybe not so much.”
         “All the shrimp you get in restaurants in the U.S. are frozen.”
         Marco looked shocked. “Frozen? My God, c’e terribile! Why don’t they have fresh shrimp?”
         “Because it’s easier to grow shrimp and freeze it than to ship it from down South because it’s so perishable.”
         “Then they shouldn’t serve it at all,” said Marco sternly. “Please, I hope you and Tony are not offended. It is just that where I come from they would shoot a cook who used frozen seafood. But, Nicolina, the food is good here. It just lacks refinement, finezza. The chef is not cooking from his heart.”
         “Believe me,” said Nicola. “I know. I’ve tasted the way you cook and I know what you mean. But, Marco, you cooked for, what, 40 people on busy night? In America, you have to cook for twice that many at least just to make a little money.”
         “Allora, Nicolina, I won’t say anything more. I very much enjoyed the meal. Now I don’t eat for another three days!”
         Nicola wished so much to go to bed with Marco that evening, but it was out of the question at her house and Marco completely understood.
         “But next time I see you, you come to my apartment and spend the night.”
         Nicola leaned in and kissed him sweetly. “I’m sure I can arrange that without too much trouble and without my father and brothers killing you afterwards.”

❖❖❖

NOTES FROM THE WINE CELLAR

THE WINES OF TENUTA DI ARCENO ARE
CHANGING OUTMODED VIEWS OF CHIANTI
By John Mariani

         The success of the Chianti Classico appellation in Tuscany has been accompanied by aggressive, sometimes antagonistic, arguments about how breaking long-established rules of what grapes may go into Chianti Classico would allow producers to make wines from 100% Sangiovese, perhaps adding Cabernet Sauvignon to the blend. The result was a fad for so-called Super Tuscans—never an official or sanctioned term—and led to the establishment under Italian wine laws of the I.G.T. appellation, which gave such wines a nod as being “typical” of the region.
         Since then, producers within the larger Chianti zone have sought to re-design its map in order better to focus on regional terroirs, a label term called “menzioni aggiuntive” that recognizes the biodiversity of the region. Leading this movement has been Tenuta di Arceno, whose history began with the Del Taja family in 1504, followed by the Piccolomini family of Siena in 1829. In 1994 Tenuta di Arceno was acquired by American wine producers Jess Jackson and Barbara Banke, one of the first estates the Jackson Family purchased outside of California.
         I interviewed Arceno’s American-born winemaker, Lawrence Cronin (left), about the winery’s commitment to evolution in the region.

How did you come to be the winemaker at the estate? Did you think it was a short-term project?

I arrived to the estate from Anderson Valley in California with just two days notice. Originally, the position was for two months to set up the lab and put things in place for the harvest. It was June, 2002, and at the time my grandmother was still living in Sicily. I grew up spending summers there, so adapting to the culture in Tuscany was not a dramatic change for me. I had previously made wine in Sicily, and had international winemaking experience from harvests in New Zealand, Australia, and Chile. As summer quickly transitioned to fall, the founding winemaker, Pierre Seillan, asked if I would stay for harvest, and you can imagine how the rest of the story unfolds. I arrived on a Wednesday and never left!

What did you find needed to be done at the winery to improve the viniculture?

When I arrived at Tenuta di Arceno in 2002, I had the opportunity to work under Seillan. With his decades of experience, Pierre conducted detailed studies of the soil, topography and climate to gain a complete understanding of the land. He mapped elevation changes and differentiation points between the estate’s ten mesoclimates and diversity of soils. It was according to these data points that Pierre established new vineyard plantings and implemented a micro-cru approach to winemaking—parceling the estate into more than 60 single blocks with the intent to farm each individually. In Tuscany in the early 2000s, this approach was still very avant-garde for the region. So, while much of the legwork had been completed by the time I arrived, it is also where the story begins. We harvested the first fruit off the vines in 2002, and the approach has remained consistent through the years in our focus on the vineyards. In terms of the steps to improve, this has been a process over the last two decades of gaining a better understanding and intimate knowledge of each block – then listening, observing and farming according to the nuances and personality of each.
The knowledge we bring to the wines today has been accumulated over the last two decades of hands-on work in the vineyards. Alongside the vineyard manager, Michele Pezzicoli, who has been with the winery since 1995, we have tended the vines together for nearly 20 years and use this experience as we approach each new vintage.

How would you describe the terroir vis-à-vis other Chianti estates and California?

    The estate is located in Castelnuovo Berardenga, which is the southernmost commune of Chianti Classico. It has a continental climate and is comparatively warmer than other regions within Chianti Classico, with cooler temperatures as the hillsides rise in elevation.
    The estate comprises 1,000 total hectares (2,500 acres) within the region, and only 10% of the land is planted to vine (220 acres). The expanse of the estate allowed us to be selective in the planting process and to choose the most optimal sites for the vineyards. The estate has ten distinct mesoclimates and is home to a diversity of soils—from clay, galestro, sandstone and basalt—with elevation ranges from 350 to 600 meters. This variability in elevation, soils and temperatures, allows us to time the picking dates for each block and variety as they reach optimal ripeness. In this sense, the diversity of our terroir is an important contributing factor that allows us to produce the best possible wines.
    Of Chianti Classico’s nine communes, the wines of Castelnuovo Berardenga are stylistically distinct and often considered riper and rounder as compared to their counterparts to the north. A common reference locally is that the Chianti Classico wines from Castelnuovo Berardenga are “brunelleggianti,” a reference to their resemblance to the great Sangiovese wines of Brunello, or “brunelleggiare,” in how they behave and act like Brunello wines.

How have the wines evolved over your time with the winery?

    Tenuta di Arceno was established with a long-term vision to make wines that rivaled the best in the world, and this evolution has been 20 years in the process. When we embarked on this journey for Tenuta di Arceno, we were fortunate to have the resources to set ourselves up for success in our micro-cru approach. Though the winemaking approach has largely remained consistent over time, we have changed in the process. It takes years of trial and error to understand the details of each block. Like people, each block has its own personality and needs in the vineyard and winery. By farming each block individually, we’ve been able learn these nuances of the terroir in extreme detail.
    Our Sangiovese wines have evolved to showcase three distinct expressions of the variety—from Chianti Classico Annata, Riserva, and now 100% varietal Strada al Sasso Gran Selezione. Each preserves the bright red fruit and playful energy of Sangiovese, while also revealing its layers of complexity.
    With our three Toscana IGT wines, the intent has been to showcase the world-class potential of these varieties in Tuscany, particularly the high caliber of Cabernet Franc and Merlot. With our flagship Arcanum and Valadorna wines, the evolution has been a gradual progression to 100% varietal expressions, while continuing to refine the process that yields their longevity in the cellar.

How do you envision the winery and wines evolving in the next 10 years?

    One of the most exciting developments will be the release of Arcanum 2016 and Valadorna 2018—marking the move for both wines to 100% varietal Cabernet Franc and Merlot, respectively. This has been a long-term vision for the wines, and we are excited to arrive at this moment of sharing them with the market.
    We are constantly experimenting with new sites, varieties and single vineyard expressions. We’re hoping to plant our first white variety at higher elevation in the hillsides of Castelnuovo Berardenga next year, and exploring new single vineyard expressions from the seven “grands crus” sites on the estate.
    Finally, sustainable farming continues to be a focus going forward. We have employed sustainable practices at the estate since 1994, and it is increasingly important for the long-term preservation of the land to prioritize soil health and vitality, and we believe it yields positive benefits in the resulting wines.

How has COVID-19 impacted work in the vineyards?

Nature remains indifferent to a global pandemic, but the constant progression of a vine’s lifecycle was a source of comfort and consistency. Though we closed our tasting room, vineyard work continued with appropriate safeguards and precautionary measures in place under legislation, and we feel fortunate that our team has remained safe and in good health.

How has it impacted sales and export?

Italy was one of the first countries to lock down in the early part of 2020, but fortunately we continued to maintain sales and fulfill orders while also growing exports. Although we miss seeing our tasting room guests and buyers in-person, virtual channels have allowed us to keep in touch with our customers and created a new avenue for engagement. As part of the Jackson Family Wines portfolio, we have access to a broad North American and global distribution network, which has been an incredible asset during the pandemic. The United States and Canada continue to be our primary export markets, supported by Australia, Switzerland, the Netherlands and the United Kingdom.

The rise in alcohol levels in red wines around the world is nothing short of astonishing, with 14.5% becoming a norm. How much of this is due to global warming and how much to winemakers who deliberately seek to boost their wines to higher levels?

    The threat of climate change and its impact to the wine industry is experienced at a global level. Certainly, there are winemakers who pursue a style, and as part of that may seek higher alcohol levels. But across the region, warmer weather has moved harvest dates earlier and yielded incremental increases in ripeness and alcohol levels.
    Fortunately, Sangiovese is a late ripening variety and so the negative effects of climate change are delayed. At this stage, it’s hard to know if we’ll ever return to the days of 12.5-13% Sangiovese. In the years ahead, it is likely for the wines to remain around 14% and possibly to approach 15% in very hot years. In the short-term, riper Sangiovese has not been a negative thing for Chianti Classico, and the last several years have produced some of the region’s most exceptional wines. With other varieties, we can adapt by ensuring the correct varieties are planted in optimal soils, and through meticulous canopy management to create shade for grapes like Merlot that are more sensitive to heat.
    But the impacts of climate change in Chianti Classico are not only in relation to ripeness and shortened hang time. Like many global wine regions around the world, Chianti Classico has struggled with unpredictable weather patterns and severe drought and these factors impact yields, fruit set, ripening, and risk of rot and disease.

What is your feeling about wines at 14.5% and above?

My feeling about wine at any percentage of alcohol is that it must be in balance. There are many wines above 14.5% that show a low perception of alcohol, and equally wines below 14% that lack balance and integration. In my opinion, quality wines aim for harmony between the fruit, acid, alcohol and tannin, and pursue a sense of balance as guided by variety and place. Throughout many years of tasting, I’ve enjoyed wines across the spectrum of alcohol levels, and have been so often surprised or mistaken in my assumptions—that is one of the great pleasures of wine—that I’ve learned to avoid broad generalizations.

As the non-Classico Chiantis are now better made and becoming better known, what today are the distinctions?

    Chianti Classico is in the heart of the Chianti region and considered the historical birthplace for quality wine from Tuscany. The region was one of the first delineated wine appellations in the world and set a global standard for quality wine production. For many people, the Gallo Nero still symbolizes this commitment to quality and excellence in the glass—not to mention more than 300 years of tradition!
    There are general distinctions as it relates to production differences for Chianti DOCG and Chianti Classico DOCG. For example, Chianti DOCG has a lower minimum requirement for Sangiovese (70% compared to 80% in Chianti Classico), permits the use of white varieties, and allows for higher yields as compared to Chianti Classico.
    Stylistically, the wines from Chianti Classico are marked by their acidity and often come from vineyards planted at higher elevation, as is the case for the wines from Tenuta di Arceno. While Chianti can come from across the region (excluding Chianti Classico), the wines for Chianti Classico remain committed to a precise geographical zone rooted in the historic heart of the region.
    For the most, Chianti wines are still intended for early consumption, but the debut of the Gran Selezione category has allowed producers from Chianti Classico to showcase complex and age-worthy expressions of 100% varietal Sangiovese. Like the Strada al Sasso Gran Selezione, many of these wines are also single vineyard expressions.

How has the label IGT affected Tuscany?

    Though global recognition for the Super Tuscan category did not arrive until the mid-2000s, Tuscan producers have been experimenting with international varieties since the 1940s. The category was created with a sense of freedom and determination to pursue the best quality possible—without restriction or limitation.
    The producers who continue to pursue Toscana IGT are dedicated to quality and believe that non-traditional varieties can produce not only worthy, but world-class expressions of the Tuscan terroir. Today, many of the most valuable and sought-after wines from Tuscany, and possibly the world, are comprised of Cabernet Franc and Merlot—wines like Sassicaia, Le Macchiole, and Masseto.
    For Tenuta di Arceno, the vision for Cabernet Franc and Merlot began in 1994 with a detailed understanding of the estate and the potential for these varieties. Our progression over the last 20 years has been about refining the process, and culminates with the move to 100% varietal for two of our flagship bottlings—Arcanum (100% Cabernet Franc with 2016 vintage) and Valadorna (100% Merlot with 2018 vintage).
    The recognition of the Super Tuscan category allowed Tuscany to compete on a global stage. But understanding the category today, and its evolution, means recognizing its diversity. The category allows us to express the full capacity of the land and expand the biodiversity of both native and non-native varieties. And yet, within this range of expressions, the best wines remain true to an identity and personality that is undeniably Tuscan.
    Like most things, the Super Tuscan, or Toscana IGT, category moved too far in one direction, only to come back again. The category was flooded by wines capitalizing on a trend and favoring “style” over quality, varietal expression, and sense of place. Understandably, it sparked a reinvigoration and recommitment to the region’s history, traditions and native varieties.
    But the story for Tenuta di Arceno—and I believe for Tuscany—is not of one or the other. Since our first days, Tenuta di Arceno has been dedicated equally to the production of Chianti Classico DOCG and Toscana IGT wines, and embraced both Sangiovese and international varieties. For us, it is a duality that is not mutually exclusive. It is an honest reflection of the region, its diversity and evolution, grounded in a relentless pursuit to make the best possible wines from our corner of Castelnuovo Berardenga.

❖❖❖

ARTICLES WE NEVER FINISHED READING

“Potatoes Will Make Their Triumphant Return to Taco Bell’s Menu” By Rachel Sugar, New York Magazine (1/14/21).

❖❖❖