Sitting, Waiting, Wishing...

So today, Friday 13th, has been the second and final day of the 2019 Vendemmia for the organic Syrah wine of the Doveri Cantina, near to Cortona. An early six o clock start saw us sipping coffee and munching creme- pastries, a usual pastime before a busy morning in the vineyard....and was it busy, wow....In the cool of the morning I watched many big strong, rough looking girls and boys scurrying up and down the rows, snipping away at the bunches of ripe grapes as the morning sun came up and before long the crates were overflowing and were being loaded on the awaiting truck.

I thought it best, as a non paid-up union member, not to get too involved so I took on a self-appointed overseeing management role otherwise I’m sure I could have lost a finger or two or worse, at the bottom of one of the longer rows where no-one would have heard my pathetic whimpering screams.
So, after an hour or so watching (managing) this impressive spectacle of organised labour the boss and I returned to the cantina to prepare the machinery for the subsequent arrival of the 🍇 truck.

The machine, the ‘Di-Raspatrice’, so named as it removes the grapes from the stalks or ‘Raspi’ and ‘trice’ pronounced ‘treechee’...well that’s the machine bit, ok?

 Anyway it takes two to tango or operate, one to stand looking cool and tip in the grapes and another to operate the stick below. The ‘tipping’ job is ok and the boss took this so I got the ‘Nobs job’, sat on a crate, rooting about underneath with the stick to prevent the blockages with the grapes and sticky stalks role.....well let’s just say that the novelty wears off quite quickly!....

This work, although deemed as ‘Molto Importante’ by the smiling gaffer was in fact a pretty crap job and even got demoted during our discussions to the title of ‘Lavoro di cazzo’....so as I sat there waiting and wishing I had a proper job it was with great relief when I saw his lovely elderly father, Benito,  rock up wanting to help out. He was very swiftly interviewed, trained and employed full-time under the job title ‘Head Stick Operator’ (HSO). In turn, I was automatically promoted to (HPO) ...a highly skilled job with responsibilities involving a Hose-Pipe, crates and a soft brush for the rest of the afternoon....Happy Days!

Once finished and cleaned up we enjoyed another of Mums home cooked, home reared 4 course ‘piatti’ extravaganza on the big table in the cantina including crostini,lasagne, roasted rabbit and chicken with potatoes and veg and a fig and nut cake , baked and provided by his sister....all washed down with the 2016 and 7.

 A Great end to a great Vendemmia....🍷

https://youtu.be/IhTvifGShw4

Today’s blog track comes from the old surfer dude, Jack Johnson from an old 2005 album I used to like called ‘In between dreams’....enjoy the link.

Pearly Dewdrops Drop...

There are probably a number of folk out there that have a fair bit of wine knowledge but as some wise old scabby pigeon once told me “you never stop learning...” so I thought I’d share my wine experiences and knowledge with you as this week we had the Vendemmia...the Italian word used only for the harvest of grapes for wine production.

Per vendemmia si intende la raccolta delle uve da vino, in quanto nel caso delle uve da tavola si usa semplicemente il termine raccolta.

This in short is the day when the grapes are declared as ready for harvesting as they can be, the moons is in the right phase and the man from Del Monte has said  “YES”. 

At this point in time you need a crowd of folk to pick them, some clean plastic crates to put them in and a big truck to take them back to the ‘Cantina’ for processing...and just for all you wine romantics il just quash this notion right now....it’s hot, sweaty and hard graft to fill up the crates in the hot sunshine, lug them about, discarding the smelly ‘Muffa’ riddled bunches while trailing up and down the endless rows of sloping vines in a typical Tuscan vineyard.....but also it’s good fun!

muffa

(ˈmuffa) 

feminine noun

1. 1. (biancastra) mildew
   2. (verdognola) mould
   fare la muffa to go mouldy 
   avere odore di muffa to smell mouldy

Back at home we unload the crates and start the processing on the roof above the Cantina ...I may lose you here with some technological terms but try to keep up...

The bunches of grapes are tipped into the top of the ‘squishing machine’ by the ‘tipper’, a key player with strong  but steady role. The auger and rollers in the machine then miraculously separates the grapes from the stalks and spew them out into the awaiting ‘stalk bucket’. The sweet, dark grapes then fall out of the bottom of the machine and are funnelled down a hole that allows them to drop further into awaiting tanks below. As the funnel starts to get ‘bunged-up’, the responsibility then lies with the ‘stick operator’ to keep the flow going by ‘poking’

The stick operator 

 v. 1. the act of making quick or abrupt thrusts with a sharp object 

and without doubt......a role of utmost importance!

Here is the part where I explain about the ‘legs’....

Some call them the wines ‘tears’ and others link them to the quality of the wine or the signature of the alcohol content but I know that these beautiful droplets or streaks that form on the inside of the glass have a more sinister explanation...let me divulge my knowledge here...

As you savvy old wine guzzlers will know it is normal to see folk initially swilling their newly poured vino around their large crystal glasses and passing comment on the colour and complexity, the vibrant hue and the effects on the nose but then they usually delight in the interesting fact of the wines ‘legs’....so, let me explain first hand as to how a wine gets its impressive ‘legs’.

The squisher

As the bunches of newly picked grapes are tipped in to the machine, so are a variety of   grape-dwelling insects including flies, spiders, ants, earwigs and the odd centipede. All these bugs collectively have a great many legs so as they all get mashed up by the ‘squisher’ their bodily fluids combine forming a sticky visceral substance resembling pearly dewdrop drops thus giving a wine the desired and much appreciated by the discerning drinker, the ‘legs’....

Anyway, I digress...

The stalk bucket

Now with the grapes securely in the large steel vats the fermentation process can begin which is a long , uncomplicated drawn out process that has to happen before you can taste the stuff so I won’t bore with these details at this stage...you will just have to wait for perhaps another update at a later date!

"Pearly-Dewdrops' Drops" is a single by Scottish post-punk band Cocteau Twins, taken from their 1984 EP The Spangle Maker. The song was written by Cocteau Twins, and recorded at Rooster Studios in London.

https://youtu.be/s-5Xgw6d3h0

August and Everything After...

Im sorry Father but it’s been nearly a year since my last confession...well 9 months or so...the time it takes to make a baby👶 , grow an avocado 🥑 , mature a wine🍷 , develop an ulcer🤷🏿‍♀️....errr, or none of the above. 

Yes, I returned to the sunshine state of Tuscany 🇮🇹in the deep south of the Mediterranean homesick blues and have been here that long, contemplating and capitulating life as we know it.

So now, as we head out of the summer sun and into the autumnal shade I thought that maybe it’s about the right time to put finger to keyboard again and spend a small amount of my loose time lolling about with my creative thoughts to blog critical comment and witty repartee as and when the mood takes me.

So I looked back at my last post for a reference point to start from and saw the world at the time of my last post was being slated for being in such a mess, so, a good nine months on I’m glad all that is now behind us and the future is now looking incredibly rosy with peace and harmony across the waters of the world as all the economic and humanitarian issues have been resolved, blazing fires and riots quelled by strong intelligent leaders with all the lessons of the past learned to provide us all with a stable, positive future for years to come....tick✅☯️🤯🤮

That’s a load off my mind then and I feel foolish about my past criticism!🙈🙉🙊

Anyway, I’m back on the blogs, for now at least.

So, to recap the story so far...the sun has gone down on the last of the summertime Sagra’s, great local events promoting all locally sourced foods, cooked and served by locals on local village fields washed down with copious amounts of unlabelled wine and spirits distilled behind closed doors in secret Cantina’s that will remain undiscovered....unless you are invited!

Sagra’s explained....

Sagra’s are for everyone and in abundance in this area serving an array of plates of food on a theme over many weekends throughout the summer evenings from pasta, fish, steak and pizzas to Cinghiale, frogs, snails and rabbits to name but a few. The procedure of these events have been unchanged for years. First you need to arrive and park in a nearby field, as close to the entrance gate as you can facing the exit in case of the onset of intoxication later and then, along with everyone else arriving at the same time, in an excitable throng , you clog up the entrance by standing in front of the makeshift ticket desk manned respectfully by two of the oldest, slowest and most inefficient owd fellas from the village who in turn ask you to choose what you want to eat, hand write the order with a pencil then take payment, often without having any apparent change...a simple process that defines Italian bureaucracy. 

Deafness dictates that when it gets to your turn you need to speak up, make the order in Italian while remembering the plates of food that you and all your party want while adopting a patience that is a virtue and necessity around these parts. Now, finally armed with your food ticket you need to squeeze on to one of the many long, busy trestle tables and dangle you legs over one of the large pews claiming your position and hand over the order to an attentive serving wench(or Hunter)....following this the table will rapidly start to fill up with wine bottles, paper mats and an astonishing array of single-use plastic ware. Foods of choice then follow very quickly so it’s best to take an initial swig of the unlabelled vino, pour some water then get munching on the bruschetta and prosciutto because you can be sure that the pasta courses and the meat plates won’t be far behind...........Buon Appetito.

Right that’s all for now ....I’m off to the Donkey race!

Today’s blog title comes from a Counting Crows album title, a good one too so check it out and give it a listen while you wait for the next instalment.

Keep on Rockin’ in the Free World...

What is wrong with The world these days?

The whole place is in turmoil...

I have just turned the idiot lantern on again for some uplifting festive cheer and there is Old MotherTeresa, the leader of the free world, stood there looking very old and grey and sporting a pained expression like she had just passed a big milestone...her backbench backstoppers voted her to go through to the next round but already I can hear the dulcet tones of Sir Allan of Sugar telling her ‘“It’s with great regret, but I’m going to be quite blunt...You’re a lightweight....You’re Fired! “

As temperatures plummet across Europe the vultures are circling and no-one seems to be in control of their own destiny?

The Italian mafia have said that they are not going to supply any more drugs for the festive period unless Arch angel Angela of Mirkleshire stops sending them migrants. 

In retaliation she has posted a selfie on Salvini’s Facebook page from the late night fling they had at the last G20 summit in Hamburg.

In The Netherlands, all the dykes with all the butt-plugs can’t even stop the hard Brexit from being shoved up to the backstop....and them boys know a thing or two about sticking things in holes...

The Spaniardio’s are having a quiet siesta after hastily making up beds for all the old wrinklies from all the cold, frosty EU countries to migrate there for their winter suntans, to drink copious amounts of sangria and save a bit on their hiked-up winter gas bills.

It’s also cooled down now in French France, after the heat of the summer sparked the ‘Ark de Triumph’ riots that were swamped with them pesky ‘Yella-bellies’ jumping around, complaining about the environment and the extortionate price of croissants in Paris which is now causing a backlog of Brie and triggering another amendment to give more bouts of indigestion to the festive constitution.

Across the pond, in the Islamic States of America the Red-knecked Trumpers have already snaffled the turkey for the Thanksgiving giving day and will be thanking the lord again when they get that fence up to stop them meddlin’ moustachio’d Mexicans....Amen brother!

In Ireland a backstop is not just for Christmas...but no-one knows what it is or where to stick it?...maybe ask a Catholic priest?

And as for the the Un-United Kingdom of Doom, the annual budget is on the Barclaycard, the Queen is dead....is she?,...well nearly! Are we in? are we out? The big bake off has buggered off while the Brexit bandwagon rumbles on with a clueless bunch of part-time drivers heading us into our own made oblivion.

As the snow starts to fall festive revellers in high spirits with high levels of intoxication had better watch out, and better be ware cos’ without a ‘Withdrawal agreement’ they risk office party pregnancies and higher taxes on childcare come the New Year, that is if what is left of the government ‘remains’....

At this very special time of the year lets just have some hands across the water, eh?

First let’s raise a glass of French toast to ‘No Brussels’ at Christmas. 

Then why not sink a few negronis in Naples instead of migrant boats, 

have a sneaky Bellini with a Belgian, sing a Christmas carol with a Canadian,

Share a a box of ‘Novichoc’ chocolates with an Oligarch, 

Pull a cracker with a Croat,

Roast your chestnuts with a Chinaman

Eat pie with a Thai

Play twister with a Transylvanian transvestite,

Have an Absinthe with an Albanian 

Wrap tinsel round a Turk

Bring coal to a Pole

Dine with a Dane

Basically, just try to get on with folk....its not that difficult.

This is not just any world,...this is our delicious, diet-free, drizzled canapé of a capitalist, screwed-up world...brought to you exclusively by Donald T for Turkey Trump...

 

Peace and Love ....

‘Keep on rocking in the Free World’....a monster of a track that if turned up loud enough will make all this shit go away...please try it. Thanks to Neil Young once again...a great man with morals....and great rockin’sojgs with timeless lyrics.

https://youtu.be/TnAgc1kgvLc

Drink the Elixir...

elixir

/ɪˈlɪksə,ɪˈlɪksɪə/

noun

1. 1. 

   
   

   a magical or medicinal potion.

   "an elixir guaranteed to induce love"

   
   

   

   synonyms:

   potion, concoction, brew, philtre, decoction;

When you have collected all the olives you have to get them to the local frantoia.

These places are dedicating to processing the olives into oil and can get very busy. You need to book a slot so that you know the time your olives will go through the system so that you can be ready to collect the ‘Elixir’ at the end. 

We arrived early and had the first slot.

The weighed olives are tipped down a hole and sent up a belt to have any leaves blown away, then washed and augered up into several macerators before finally being pressed to death to make beautiful green peppery olive oil.

For every 100kg, (quintale)of olives you get about a 14% ratio of oil, so about 14 litres.

Bon appetito...

RIP Pete Shelley...always great to hear ur stuff!

Drink the Elixir was by a nice little Britpop indie band from 1995 ‘Salad’, which would be perfect for drizzling Tuscan olive oil on....see what I did there?

I used to love the scratchy guitars on this.....enjoy again here.

https://youtu.be/vV8QvsC68lk

Shaker maker...

‘Raccogliere le olive’

For the uninitiated, the olive harvesting in Tuscany goes on from October to December every year and peaks around tupping time, November 5th when absolutely everybody, whether they have olives or not, get out their nets, boxes, trailers and stand under their trees. It’s in their blood here and they can’t stop doing it and talking about it....everybody...everywhere!

All the olives that are picked here are for processing, usually at the local frantoia, and pressed to turn them into a delicious green, peppery oil and it’s big, big business. You can forget that crap stuff you buy at the Lidl, this is the real deal.

You need a few tools to do the job:

Paletti = stakes for holding the edges of the net to stop the buggers rolling away.

Cassetti = boxes take about 25kg and this year, with a bumper crop, one decent tree can fill 3 of these!

Rete Olivastra= a bloody big net!

Rastrelli = little rakes to use by hand to strip the olives off the branches.

Carri Carri = a cart or a donkey(chooka)...that’s the one on the left!

And lots of energy....it’s tiring work!

Today we are high up in the olive terraces again, in a beautiful garden with about 90 more trees to go...

We are averaging about 30 trees per day.

For the purists among you, turn off now because unless you have a spare two months there is no way that you can pick this many olives by hand so we have to have get the big power-tools out to give a helping hand....so to speak!

The ‘macchina di olive’, A mechanical aid connected to a battery with strong fingers that flick up and down and shake, rattle and roll the olives off the trees.

Today’s first weapon of choice is the ‘Tickler’ with a sleek, long slim shaft giving fast, long, deep strokes, perfect for teasing off the olives from the smaller trees, a snip at about €500 and does a pretty decent job.

For the bigger jobs we have the ‘climax’, a more heavy duty model that is better suited for the ‘larger lady’ as it’s carbon fingers are more powerful, and it’s 33 voltage can flick your olive off very easily and it comes with the added bonus that it doesn’t get stuck in a thick bush the same.....that’s worth the extra €300 dobbers!

Both models give a fully enjoyable experience for the user as long as you have a powerful battery, a firm grip and steady hand...

One downside is that by using a ‘tool’ you are more likely to get ‘tanti foglie’, which sounds like an STI but it just means that you just get loads more leaves and twigs in your nets, and this unfortunately just can’t be helped!

A quick word concerning health and safety........there, that’s that sorted then, but then saying that, if you get one in the eye from a great height you will know about it...been there, got at least half a dozen ‘T’ shirts.

Once the olives have flown off the trees in every direction the next job is to collect up the big nets and fill up the boxes.

The olives are emptied through a machine here that separates them from the leaves 

as they fall past a fan and you are left with a nice, clean crate of olives ready to go to 

the frantoia.

Lunch or ‘Pranzo’ is a welcome break and is always a ‘celebration’ with a table full of local food, bread, meats, cheeses, fagioli, salsicci, bruschetta, panettone, birra ,vino, grappa and good banter.

Frantoia blog next week.....hopefully!

‘Shaker maker’ is a great track way back when Oasis were great, this one off the first album.

https://youtu.be/LiAK3AD_HsU

Hey Hey, My My outa the blue and... (into the black)

Here you find us today in the Upper reaches of the Okavango delta...

....through the morning mist a rare glimpse of a native hornbill and the eerie haunting call of a young lonely male Orangutan can be heard in the misty distance....

Ho..ho...only joking...not really....high up but still in Umbria. Quite atmospheric with the clouds still hanging about after all the recent rain...it’s been as wet as a tramps vest for the last few days!

As the year starts to close, the wine and the oil has been pressed and bottled, the warm sunshine has retired and the vast woods have started to change to a golden colour, while large flocks of birds gather to fly off for their holidays and we find ourselves winding down with the clock...

It’s quite a change from the summer and sorta feels quite sad....

Still...there’s more to the picture than meets the eye....

But look on the bright side....It’s Black ‘feckin’ Fridey!!.....Whoop, ‘Feckin’ Whoop!!

You can’t escape the Black Fridey madness...it’s gone absolutely crazy here today with unlimited free entry into the mercato in the little piazza for everyone!

Folk have been queued all night, three times around the parcheggio, for a whopping 20% off all porchetta butties, Prosecco under half price, New olive oil at knockdown prices, Massive savings on huge Panetone’s, Unbeatable Deals on great big lumps of Parmigiano, a total mental frenzy on Grappa and Nutella, Amazing one-off, never to be repeated offers on winter logs and cardigans. You like Pizzas?...get this....any size, any topping..half price!....wow!...and that’s not all....Reduced and ‘locally produced’ mozzarella prices are slashed, with fresh celery and parsley discounted and for one day only they are giving away hot-roasted chestnuts and an unbelievable buy one - get one free deal on all incense sticks and candles until Sunday...while stocks last!

Conditions apply and finance available so you can buy everything now and pay for it for the rest of your sad, weary life...sorry, but migrants'. need not apply!

...they give you this but you pay for that....

If you don’t believe me you can check out all the latest offers here....

https://camelcamelcamel.com/

Absolutely no camels were hurt in this gluttonous shopping frenzy...

And remember...a camel is not just for Christmas!

...and once your gone you can’t come back...

It will probably end up being a Black Saturday too here...the Azzurri take on the lesser known team the ‘Nuova Zealanda’ tomorrow in the Olympic Stadium in Rome and I don’t fancy their chances much....still, we once beat them!🔥!

...it’s better to burn out than to fade away....eh Peter?

https://youtu.be/0O1v_7T6p8U

This is quite obviously Neil Young and with his band ‘Crazy Horse’ with a full on guitar fuelled version played with passion as it always should be...always brilliant...enjoy!