Only in Italy

Last week I was lounging around our local; a members only wine bar in Bra with Luca and Jesse.  Lest that sounds very privileged and snooty, I should tell you that La Carbonaia is a small place tucked off the market square and packed with students and locals in the know.  And in fact, I don't have a membership yet, but if I'm asked, I'll sign up and pay the 5 euro fee for the privilege of drinking very good local wines for very good prices.  I cringe to think of the culture shock on returning to Vancouver when a truly excellent bottle of wine with friends will no longer cost under 15 euros, but substantially over 40 dollars.

But I digress.  Luca and I decided on one last glass of a local Barbera-Nebbiolo blend and were blown away by the balanced fruitiness, structured tannins and rich aromatics.  So much so, that we returned a couple of days later with more friends in tow to try a few more of the wines from this producer.  Ghiomo did not disappoint.

So today when Luca interrupted me doing battle with our broken washing machine (NOT the best of situations the night before a 13 day study trip!) and suggested driving to Ghiomo to check out the winery, my roommates and I jumped on it.  After all, I'm off to Bristol in three weeks for my internship, and I'm planning to bring several bottles of good local wines for my new flatmate. 

Tucked off a narrow country lane outside of Guarene d'Alba, we pulled into their driveway and were promptly greeted by a suspiciously peering nonna and a cheerful winemaker.  Ushered into a simple tasting room in the (large) farmhouse, and stepping over the large toy cars and tricycles that signified the presence of small boys, we sat down for a couple of hours of conversation and tasting.

As we tasted our way through a white and four reds, we were regaled with stories about the winery, the family history and the specific methods of production and inspiration for each wine.  When we asked if his father was still working on the vineyard, there was laughter and "my father IS the vineyard".  This kind of family linkage is so common here in Piedmont, but the genuine love and appreciation that was conveyed throughout the conversation was heart-warming.  It was reinforced when our host's two young sons came barrelling into the tasting room to say "ciao" to the guests and clamber all over any lap available. 

We walked out into the clear night air with a lot more wine than anticipated, and invitations to come to a major wine and art event next month.  We were even sent off with the magnum of '07 nebbiolo that had been opened for our tasting for us "to enjoy with our dinner".

Only in Italy can an impromptu Saturday afternoon winery stop feel like an afternoon with family.