Thank you mom and dad

I'm not sure if anyone has been reading any of the responses to my blog, but this one has got to be the best one I've ever seen. I don't even know which of my parents wrote this. I mean it's possible the Hadwey jumped up and wrote the thing himself!

Please enjoy:

The strange tale of the Tigga Toenails!!

By Hadwey

Tonight Tigga came out of the bathroom and said that one of her toenails had fallen out!

I said, "why did your toenail fall out, Mutha?"

Two hours later she said that another toenail fell out of the other foot!

How could such a thing happen?

Sometimes things just happen, don't they?

Oh Tigga!

I hope your toenails grow back soon!

Love,

Hadwey

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for reminding me of the family from which I came, and for assuring me that I'm kindof weird for a reason!

llkw

Love

Al

Also a kiss for my little dude.

Canzone della Settimana

The Verve has returned!

If there was one song you could hear in your head for the rest of your life, which song would it be?

I've struggled with this question many a time, however I keep coming back to "Bittersweet Symphony" by The Verve.

Well they have a new hit under their belt. It's called Love is Noise. I totally love that title.

Anyways it's playing on the radio constantly in Italy. Although it could never trump the love that I hold for "Bittersweet Symphony" I can dig it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmRJo8RQ5sA

How about a little wine with your spiders?

This morning I was in charge of rinsing the bins of Arneis after they had been dumped into the crusher. So I spent a good amount of time watching the grapes go through the crusher - and I could not help but notice the amount of spiders that were in the mix as well. They are almost like whitish-greenish daddy long legs. Anyways, they only show up on the Arneis grapes - I have yet to see one on the red grapes.

So I got to thinking. How many bugs/spiders/insects can you typically find in a bottle of wine? From what I saw, there has to go be a 1:2 ratio of bugs to clusters of grapes. I tried to save a few at first, but they are not very cooperative so I've decided to just let nature take its course. Well not nature, but the process of wine making. They must know what they're doing at this point, right?

NOT SO!

I googled "average amount of bugs in a bottle of wine" thinking SOMEONE had to have done some sort of study on the amount of bugs that are crushed along with the grapes. Close but no cigar my friends. I DID find a blog featuring a woman who had had a not-so-fab experience with a bottle of wine:

"Hi, everyone. I am new to the site. My name is Melissa. My husband and I were drinking a bottle of our favorite Chardonnay from a local winery here in Temecula (I won't name it!) and after pouring myself the last glass I noticed a few minutes later that there was something in the bottom of my glass. I looked in the light and saw that it was some unknown sediment as well as a small worm and a very, very small almost translucent spider! Has anyone heard of such a thing? I was horrified. I've drank a good amount of wine in my life and I've never had this experience before. Is this something that happens from time to time?"

ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!! A WORM AND A SPIDER IN YOUR WINE?

What are the odds of that happening??

I think I'm going to lay off this investigation for the time being.

Italian Roomates!

Roberto!

Alessando!

Con Gin Tonic (the best)

Silly Lizzy

Tourists? Nah...

Funny Italian Things

Fin Food Lube?

No comment :)

The Dog Days

(my pizza containting anything and everything that is salty.

Olives, Anchovies, Ham and Capers.)


While working here at Ceretto, we know that we have one assured day off per week. This day is Sunday, and we have aptly named this day the Day Of Gluttony ( which will be referred to as DOG from here on out). Ill provide you with a list of activities that may occur on our DOG days:

- Eating an entire pizza and a beer for lunch

- Shopping for rabbit fur coats and dresses to wear to upcoming weddings

- Consuming at least two gelatos (requirements: one must be fruit flavored, and one must be creamy/chocolate flavored.)

- Buying strange teas to aid digestion and general health

- People watching

- Visiting expensive stores such as Missoni and pretending that we can afford the gorgeous things we see.

- Wandering down small streets and encountering stores such as "Sex Shop Las Vegas".

(Dont worry - we will never go down that street again!)

The only required activity on the DOG is an appertivo to end our day. Whats so great about the appertivo is they bring out a delicious tray of assorted munchables. There are breadsticks with salami, and olives. Also, there are various slices of baguette with tapanade, cream cheese olives and tomatoes, and sometimes a little bit of the italian version of salsa.

It's AWESOME. Even though we are typically full from our gluttonous lunch and beer, we always find space to eat the delicious bits. I mean, it would be so rude if they presented us with food, and then we did not eat it!

Certo.

So, this past sunday we had our 2nd annual DOG. Although we started off a little late because Allie went on an uncontrollable cleaning binge of the bathroom and kitchen, we still fit in a whole mess of DOG activities.

The best part of the day, however, was when we were making the trek back to our house. We were taking our time to slowly make our way up the dusty driveway, when we saw two creatures head down the hill. It was just about nine o'clock, so it was getting pretty dark at this time.

We both jumped back with fright: assuming that these two creatures were out to get us, and that we had to run for safety. The following dialoge took place between me and Elizabeth.

A: Oh no... here come two dogs!

E: NO! The second one is a BOAR!

A: No liz, they are BOTH dogs!

E: NO allie, I swear to god, the second one is a boar; I mean ,maybe they are on a truffel hunt or something..."

A: Liz, I saw them both, and they are definitely dogs, but I think we should go hide amongst these trees to provide us with some protection, ok?

E: okay....

So we run alongside the road and find some large trees.

A: Okay here, hug this tree and be ABSOLUTELY SILENT, ok?

E: Okay...

Then the unknown animals slinked back up to the driveway.

A: OMG! They are back to get us! Liz HUG THE TREE!

Instead of hugging the tree, Liz jumps into the MIDDLE OF THE DRIVEWAY, directly confronting the unknown beasts. Meanwhile, I have placed my hand directly onto a monstrous thorn, however I'm too freaked out and scared of these beasts that I simply keep my hand on the terrible thorn.

I am busy screaming at liz to get back to the tree, when we see a man strolling down the driveway.

There was no boar.

They were not on a truffel hunt.

The "unknown creatures" were out on a casual evening walk with their owner.

Maialina

Okay. I'm pretty sure that I've got some sign on my back that is noticable to everyone but me, and that sign says "please make me the butt of your jokes".

Marco and Cipri (or Chippers as the Italians call him) are working the harvest at Ceretto. They are 23 and 24 years old respectively, and Chippers has been married for five years! Marco told me that people in Romania marry as early as 15, but he lies a lot so who knows.

Anyways, Marco and Cipri have a lot of fun picking on us, and the reassuring us each time that "EETS A JOOKE". I have no idea how Marco arrived at this conclusion, but yesterday he spent about thirty minutes trying to tell me that I'm like a MOTHER PIG. He started out snorting very loudly and stomping around. This was then followed by him motioning with his hands that he had many nipples on his body.

The thing is, this can be interpreted in many ways, right? They have, from the get-go, been very impressed by the fact that I clear my plate at lunch every day. So there's definitely an element of pig in there. However, Italians typically take offense if you fail to eat everything in front of you. So this means I'm really just sending my compliments to the chef, right?

Another reason he might feel this way is because every day I end up getting about five times dirtier than any other girl here. So what? The huge bin of stems needed to be compressed so I jumped in the bin and pounded them down with my boots. Wear a raincoat while powerspraying the press clean? Not my style. I'd rather get my hands dirty! Besides, then I can just toss all of my clothes after the harvest and buy a whole new wardrobe!

Just kidding, Dad.

Here's Maggie!

More to post later, but I thought I'd share with you this adorable-ist pic ever

So I come to you this thursday morning with some good news and some bad news. Well, I mean I guess its not bad news, but lets just say were hurting and tired this morning. We worked from 8am until 10:30pm last night. We did break for lunch, I'll admit, but this is a schedule to which Liz and are I NOT accustomed. Because it was a full day of sun, aka no Piogga, we crushed and pressed as many grapes as we could. We are estimating almost 100 bins.

The good news is we learned how to do a lot of new things. We learned how to measure the Babo of the wine. We got to help transfer wines from small tanks to large ones. We helped prepare the Levity treatment for the wines. I got to climb inside the pitch black press to blindly hose out any leftover skins and seeds. Most importantly, I got to use the power hose gun. After working for thirteen hours, it's a really great way to get out any lingering exhaustion and frustration.

Everyone except for Mimo is comfortable in asking us to help them with something or another. We have been making a concerted effort to show them that we're not afriad to get dirty, and that underneath our gap tees and seven jeans, we've got some serious muscle going on. Although the juvenile flirtation methods that they employ, such as throwing grapes at us and pretending it was not them ALL DAY LONG have almost crossed the line from annoyance to sheer anger, we figure thats better than them completely ignoring us. Wow. I think that was a really bad run on but I'm so braindead right now, I just can't find a way to break that one down. Sorry.

Here's a really interesting blog with information about Babo, as well as the difference between Babo and Brix.

http://bastianichwinery.typepad.com/the_buzz/2008/09/babo-not-babbo.html

Also there are pictures! Now who doesn't like pictures??

We are REALLY hoping we get some time off tonight - seeing as were out of food, shampoo, conditioner, soap, contact solution, diet coke, WINE and BEER - its dire straits, my friends.

I've got so many funny things to blog about, so check back soon!

The Sunscreen Song

My new favorite relaxation experience is taking long baths in the huge bathtub in our house. On sunday I found this AMAZING almond scented creamy bubble bath, and it's almost impossible for me to get out of the tub once I'm in immerssed in almondy goodness. I'm talking over an hour, folks!

Anyways, I recently found a way to enhance my bath, by bringing my laptop in the bathroom with me! I found a playlist on iTunes featuring various classical piano songs, and I made myself a fantabulous relaxation mix.

Upon compiling this mix, I came across one of my most favorite songs. It's 11 years old, and I don't think I had heard it in about 3 years, so it was a very special experience for me to hear it again. This song expresses so much of what I'm feeling now about growing up, living life, making time to enjoy the small things, taking care of yourself and the people you love.

I've posted the lyrics below - it's pretty long but I'd really like it if you would take five minutes to read and absorb the text. My favorite parts are highlighted in red.

Ladies and Gentlemen

of the class of ’97

Wear sunscreen

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists

whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable

than my own meandering experience…

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth;

oh nevermind;

you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth

until they have faded.

But trust me,

in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself

and recall in a way you can’t grasp now

how much possibility lay before you

and how fabulous you really looked….

You’re not

as fat

as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future;

or worry,

but know that worrying

is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation

by chewing bubblegum.

The real troubles in your life are apt to be things

that never crossed your worried mind;

the kind that blindsides you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing

everyday

that scares you

Sing

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts,

don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss

Don’t waste your time on jealousy;

sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…

the race is long, and in the end,

it’s only withyourself.

Remember the compliments you receive,

forget the insults;

if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters,

throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with yourlife…

the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22

what they wanted to do with their lives,

some of the most interesting 40 yearolds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees,

you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry,

maybe you won’t,

maybe you’ll have children,

maybe you won’t,

maybe you’ll divorce at 40,

maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…

what ever you do,

don’t congratulate yourself too much

or berate yourself either

your choices are half chance,

so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body,

use it every way you can…

don’t be afraid of it,

or what other people think of it,

it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..

Dance…

even if you have nowhere to do it

but in your own living room.

Read the directions,

even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents,

you never know when they’ll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings;

they are the best link to your past and the

people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go,

but for the precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle

because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew

when you were young.

Live in New York City once,

but leave before it makes you hard;

live in Northern California once,

but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel

Accept certain inalienable truths,

prices will rise,

politicians will philander,

you too will get old,

and when you do

you’ll fantasize that when you were young

prices were reasonable,

politicians were noble

and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you.

Maybe you have a trust fund,

maybe you have a wealthy spouse;

but you never know when either one

might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair,

or by the time you're 40, it willlook 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy,

but, be patient with those who supply it.

Advice is a form of nostalgia,

dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal,

wiping it off,

painting over the ugly parts

and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me

on the sunscreen

I need some dough

Liz calls every baked good - sweet or savory DOUGH.

Every day I hear liz worry about her consumption of dough for the day. She now claims that there is a part of her stomach that is reserved for the savory, and a part that's

reserved for sweet breads.

Bread stick? Croissant? Chicken in a Biscuit?

Nope. They are all just dough.

Truffels and Wine

It's raining again this AM, and no one is picking grapes. They might pick grapes this afternoon, but we wont know until after lunch. Bo.





So woe is us. We just had a wine tasting at 10:30 am, because were not up to much perque piova continuamente qui. Can I just tell you it was the most informative tasting I've ever had. We compared the Barbaresco and the Barolo. SO INCREDIBLY DIFFERENT. I guess I'm behind the times, because I did not know that Barolo typically smells of tartufo. As soon as our new roommate told me how much she could smell the tartufo, it literally jumped out of the glass and smacked me in the face.





Barolo and Barbaresco are composed of the same type of grape. Nebbiolo. So I asked Claudia how two wines could taste so different if they were made from the same grape. She said that it's totally dependent on the terrior, and clima (climate). There are designated Barolo plots, which are raised higher than the Barbaresco plots. The slope of the Barolo plots face towards the South West. It's a very hill-y region.





There is such a deviation in flavor between these two wines. The Barolo has a 1% higher amount of alcohol than the Barbaresco (14% versus 13%). And you can really taste it. Very bold, full bodied.

Here's a really interesting fact. The grapes perform better when the weather is super hot and sunny. Adversely, the truffles perform better when the weather is foggy, humid, and wet. Isn't that fascinating?

So pretty much this year, the truffle peeps are rejoicing, while the winemakers are anticipating a difficult harvest.

Also, they no longer use pigs to search for truffle because they cannot stop the pigs from eating them once they have found them!!! Instead they use dogs, and they don't feed them for a week so they will be super eager to find the truffles. Enrique, who bears characteristics that are more similar to a pig than a dog, would probably not make for a very good truffle hunter.

Song of the Week

On Saturday night, we went to dinner with Alessandro, his girlfriend, and 8 other people. We got there at 8:30 and did not leave the restaurant until 12:30! Wild. I guess we are just going to have to get accustomed to coming home at 3:30 every saturday night. An american girl's gotta do what an american girl's gotta do.

Anyways, on the way, our friend Adolfo gave us a ride to the restauant with his friend Paula. They had a FAB.U.LOUS mix playing in the car, and we were introduced to our new favorite song.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Speedy Gonzales by Pat Boone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WD4f28OECjA

Allie = Obsessed.com

Conversations con Mimo

Today after lunch, five of us piled into the company car - which is a two door Golf. Liz got in the middle seat, and then Mimo and I attempted to get in the back seat at the same time on opposite sides of the car. We both knocked heads pretty hard, and when Mimo finally sat down he called me a lucertola.

A lizard.

I need bread, and I need it now

Yesterday morning, Liz and I were out sampling Barolo grapes in four different plots. After we had finished sampling the second vineyard, we were headed down a steep street, when we passed by an old man carrying some items from the bakery. Franca pointed to the man and told us he was a “nonno” or grandfather. I attempted to make a fun conversation out of this statement by saying:

“Con il pane d’oggi!” (with his bread of the day!)

Franca told me she could not understand. So I tried to explain that he must have just walked to town to get his bread of the day. Our conversations went back and forth for a couple of minutes, when I thought she finally understood what I was trying to say.

Nope.

She thought I said “Voglio il pane veloce” (I’d like some bread really fast}

We headed into town to get a quick café, when Liz explained to me that she thought I was saying I needed some bread quickly. I told Franca that I really did not need bread, and that a café would be fine. Nonetheless, she walked us straight over to the bakery to get a baguette.

The real clincher? We had no money. Franca had to pay for our cafes AND our baguette. AND she bought herself a slice of Foccacia and gave 2/3 of it to us for our “quick fix”. And all this time we were giggling uncontrollably.

So I think were really doing some good things for our reputation!

I have a crush on Arneis

Here's a video I took yesterday of the Arneis grapes being crushed...

Creepy yet soothing all at the same time...

I'm an idiot

I was just chatting online with Jaclyn, and she thought she would one up me by telling me that Tara's birthday is next week. So I just wanted to let you all know that I KNEW THAT, and I fast forwarded in time to two weeks from now when I wrote the post.

FYI Tara - I went ahead and posted it so that Jaclyn and Caitlin would know that I BEAT THEM.

Liz is a wiz

Liz has a unique knack for embellishing lyrics when she sings.

Yesterday, she did a little ditty that was originally sung by Katy Perry, called "I kissed a girl"



Liz's rendition was: "IIIII kissed a girl, and I kiiiiinda sorta maybe liked it..."



Classic.

The spaz in action

I have a tendency to get myself into some pretty ridiculous situations. I swear to you, I am a magnet for trouble. I really do try hard to pretend to be normal, but I am finally coming to terms with it. I mean, It's better to put myself out there and be considered ridiculous than not experience life, right?


So I've had a number of mishaps within the past week and a half. and I figured that I would just clump them all together for one big mishap bonanza.


Last week Liz, Franca and I headed back into the vineyards around four to do some last minute sampling. We had two plots to sample, and were on the last one. When we were about four feet away from finishing, some sort of freak hybrid bug launched onto my forearm. The shouts that came out of my mouth were completely involuntary. All I know is there were about three of them, and I think the entire town looked around to see what catastrophy had taken place.


I was in such shock when this bug decided to say hello that I kindof blacked out and can't quite remember exactly what he looked like. The best desciption is a tarantula mixed with a grasshopper. The body was about two inches in length and it's ars spanned the entirety of my forearm. It took me a little under an hour to recover, however now Liz lives in a constant state of fear that something similar will jump on her, or that I will scream again like I did that afternoon.


The next spaz actually occured this very morning. Franca had dropped Liz and I among some Borolo vines for sampling. She had to run back to the winery to take car of some 911 situation. We were having a grand ole time; taking care to clip an impressive collection of grapes for the sampling. When we clip individual grapes, we collect them all in desposable rectangular alluminum lasagne tray.

We were on a particularly steep plot, and in order to step down to the next row, we had to step down about a foot in between the rows. Liz stepped down with easy and started clipping right away. I on the other hand didn't fare quite as well. I think I put too much pressure on the back of my right foot, and I slid down the entire slope, landing in what Liz described as a "lounging position". They tray of grapes FLEW straight up on the air, and time seemed to come to a standstill. Liz and I both turned our heads to the tray, and watched it fall approximately five seconds after I was in a fully seated position. I've never experience a moment of slow motion quite like this one. It landed flat on the ground, and more than 200 carefully chosen grapes bounced into the air, and into the long grass below.

All I can say is thank goodness liz the same appreciation for unfortunate/hilarious moments such as these.

Il compleanno ratto da Nashville

(aka the birthday rat from Nashville)

Happy Belated Birthday Ratar! The original Rat's birthday was last week, and I was negligent in

showing my love for my dear little rodent.

The rat is one of my most lovable friends. Tara is one of those people that everyone knows and loves. We tease the rat often because of the random southern-sugar-coated accent that she takes on every once in awhile.

My favorite is when Tara calls 411.

"Hello Maam, How are YOU doing tonight?"

"Oh I am doing GREAT! Thank you SO much for asking! I was hoping I could get a listing for..."

(even though it's the person's JOB to give her the address, Tara treats them with the utmost respect and charm"

"Oh thank you so much darlin', and I hope you have a wonderful night!"

For all we know she could have been talking to an automated system. But that's just Tara.

Of all things, I love how genuine my rat is. She has a heart of gold, and will do anything for her best friends. Tara and I do not talk nearly as much as we'd like to, yet somehow everytime we get a chance to talk it's as if we had just talked an hour ago. I love that about our friendship. I know with complete faith that we will be friends for life.

Tara, I love you so much, and hope you had a fabulous birthday.

Tell Bresenden I say whats up.

Whoa, dude!

This morning we were visited some Barbaresco vines. I was looking out the window, when I suddenly felt as if someone had slipped some halucinogenic drugs in my morning espresso - the leaves were electric blue! "WOW!" I shouted out, and asked Lizzie if she could see what I saw. Yes she said. Darn. I mean phew.

I asked Alessandro about it a bit later, and he informed me that they use COPPER as a treatment for some kind of "powdery mildew" or fungus. This fungus is widespread, and copper is used to keep it under control. Copper! What will they come up with next??

L'ultimo auto da Ryan Thanos

Ryan! Ho visto il tuo sogno auto oggi!

An orange BUG!

It's so you, dude.

How 'Bout Dem Figs

Enrique Phelps - Eat your heart out.

Mi Piace Ridere

So Liz totally cracks me up. And I can never really explain what she does that I find so funny, but I do the same thing with my mom. I think it's because they are so cute, and I find every innocent thing that they do to be just adorable. Is that weird?

Anyways, sometimes lizzie has a bit of a hard time navigating the super steep vineyards that we truck through each morning. And I do it too, but for some reason, when lizzie has a small mis-step or loses her footing, it just cracks me up. Yesterday Lizzie managed to stumble upon a hole that measured about a foot in width, and a half a foot in depth. Of course when this occured she was mid sentence with Franca and in order to cover up the fall, she simply tried to keep on talking - her voice waivering in a way quite similar to a Donken's. I could tell it gave her quite a scare, and this is probably not right, but I just lost it. I could not control my giggles. Lizzie was trying to ignore me and keep her serious face on, but I could tell she was in for it as well. Honestly, it took me ten minutes to calm down.

The worst part about these uncontrollable giggles, is that they only hit occur in innapropriate situations. People tripping (eh hem rachel lilburn), people sneezing (eh hem mom) - I find them to be absolutely hilarious. I know I need to shut my trap and be serious, however that only encourages me to keep the giggles going.

This summer, Caitlin and I went with her mom Debbie to help set up for a Labor Day party at their yaught club. Upon arrival, we were surprised and excited to see that margaritas were being prepared. It was 2:00 in the afternoon. Caitlin and I proceeded to have two margaritas each, which spun us into a tequila induced giggle fest. We could tell that people thought we were in the bag, and that Cait's father was getting perturbed be our behaviour. That only made it worse. I mean, we thought the concept of tortillas being rolled up to make wraps was the funniest thing we'd ever seen. And the Pigs in a Blanket that the poor woman next to us couldn't seem to figure out? Don't even get me started.

We were just beginning to sip on our third margarita, when Cait's father forced us to pour our the remainder of our cocktails. Cait snuck one more sip in, and I attempted to do the same, but instead, the icy beverage came shooting out of my mouth.

I know I can be innapropriate. I know that many people cannot take me seriously. But moments like these are my absolute favorite. My mom and I have our own ridiculous language that we think is hilarious, but no one else has a clue what were talking about. I can button it up when I have to (maybe) but instead I choose to relish such situations. I think laughter makes the world go around. Oh wait, isn't the expression love makes the world go around?

Whatever - Love is cool too.

La Possente Uva

On August 15Th 2008 a widespread hailstorm hit Alba. You can see where the pieces of hail punctured portions of the grape leaves. Once again la Madre Natural astounds me. When the hailstorm hit, the grapes were still young enough to resist any damage caused by the sharp pieces of ice. It's as if the weather patterns in Alba, or in Italy at large, occur in conjunction with the growth of the produce!

Lizzie and I have a newfound appreciation for "piogga' It's like the rain is healthier here! Were even tempted to stand outside in the middle of a thunderstorm, in hopes of obtaining some sort of natural facial! I'd totally be down to roll around in the clayish mud as well, but I think Lizzie will require a fair amount of coercing.

Most of the clusters of grapes in Alba resemble the continent of Africa! Unfor-tunately I chose to photograph this cluster on the wrong side, but you get the picture!

Conversations con Mimo

Today Mimo decided he did not like us. We have no idea why, but when this happens, its best to zip your lip and let Mimo talk about us super fast so that he thinks we don't understand. It really toasted his hazlenuts today that Liz didn't want to eat the two cups of raw ground beef (its an albanese specialty, and of course I manage to eat the entire thing whenever it's served) that he had as our first course but then, he happily cleared both of our plates.

He is a very perplexing person, that Mimo. ANYWAYS, after we had worked for about two hours in the vineyards, I ran back to the winery – eager to use the restroom. I opened the door to find Mimo zipping up his pants. VA FANCULO! Which basically meants “f*** off” in Italian. I was so stunned I didn’t even say I was sorry and simply closed the door and walked into the other room to share this unfortunate experience with Liz. Mimo walked in, and in broken English said to us “In Italy, we knock before we enter. I don’t know how it is in America…” and then continued walking away from us and shaking his head veeeeeery dramatically.

Okay. I understand that there are certain customs that one must follow in countries other than their own. But honestly? WHY NOT JUST LOCK THE DOOR IN THE FIRST PLACE! This would alleviate the possibilty of akward situations such as this.

I was explaining what happened to this adorable wine maker from Australia, who is here with his wife and 4 year old daughter Lilly. His name is Lance, but no one in the cellar can pronounce his name, so they simply call him Laurence.

A: I dont think Mimo likes me

L: Why's that?

A: Well, I just accidentally walked in on him in the bathroom...

L: Are you kidding? He probably planned for that to happen!

It's nice to know that Liz and I are not the only ones who think he's a big of a pig. Or maybe even a Donken, which is our new name for him.

Feel the Rush music video

Shaggy's lost his marbles!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjspxBtxFXg

Canzone della Settimana

This if for you Dad:

I know youre a huge fan of Shaggy's work.

Feel the Rush (Club Mix) by Shaggy.

(I couldn't figure out how to post a song - if anyone knows please tell me!)

Many of you know about my love for abbreviations. Totes; Awktown; Chubberton - you get the picture. WELL! It seems I've encountered another fan of abbrevations. Today, we got a ride to work with Andrea.

After we said "Grazie",

he answered with "Pregs".

"Pregs?"

"Si, da Prego, come la sua "thanks". (Yes, like the way you say Thanks from Thank You.)

Very cute.

Ciao Tutti!

Ummmmmmmmm how impressed are you that I created my OWN BLOG!?!? Admittedly it's one of the easiest things to do. I just uploaded a whole week's worth of clips that I wrote last week. I hope you enjoy! Elizabeth and I have had so much fun and it's already been a wild ride.

We started working at 7:30 am on Monday morning. We arrived at 7pm on Sunday. Not the best planning on our behalf in terms of dealing with jet lag, but we survived. Here is the email I sent to my family during Lunch that Monday:

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I arrived in Italy and we have somewhat settled into our new place. With all of our stuff not yet properly unpacked it looks like hurricant Hanna hit our room. We are living with six boys and three girls. Liz and I have our own room, with two closets so we are happy. There are two showers, but our other female roomate Rita told us to use only one because she cleans it herself... so our showering technique for the next two months will be sitting in a tub with a handheld faucet. Kindof fun actually! We had THE MOST DELICIOUS meal last night. An enologist here named Andrea (I almost told him that was my moms name but thought that might make him feel weird) took us out to dinner at the restaurant that Ceretto owns. So basically - the first dish was ground RAW beef - a big mound of it - with fennel, carrot, and a slice of parmesean cheese, all drizzled with olive oil. I was totally expecting the sort of ground beef we have in the states, but this was just clean, healthy raw beef! Such a thrill. Then we had three beef tortelloni with pork, rabbit, and I think beef. Equally as delish. We shared a bottle of their best white wine called Blange - and it is 100% arneis. SO refreshing. OH and we had a digestif of grappa last night and I acutally kindof liked it! Kindof a rosey finish... Liz got terrible heartburn. So we got up at seven thirty this morning, to begin work at eight. Today, we have unwrapped new french oak barrells, and are now painting the middle of the barrells with "bad" moscato wine - which is the varietal that they use to make their grappa. They do this so you can decipher between red and white wine barrels. Then at lunch we had a tuna and egg salad (mom youd be in heaven) and I really wanted to ask for some salt, but a) I dont want to be rude and b) Ive got to try to break that habit sometime!!! We then had a pasta with meat sauce - and the pasta was green because it had swiss chard in it! I was tyring to explain to one guy how to say swiss, but he could only pull off SWEZZ SHARD. Very cute. Dad, we had this wine with lunch called Monsordo - which liz and I took to be their equivalent of our Insignia. Its a blend of Cab, Merlot, Syrah. and Nebbiolo. So delish - and Im working hard to pull out aromas from wines - today I pulled brown sugar?? Liz could not concur, but who knows! Have you ever smelled brown sugar in a wine??

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Here's what happened the next couple of days

1. We were given a car. The car was given to us on the day that we worked from 8am to 10pm. It took us an hour and a half to get to our house. It usually takes 20 minutes. Lizzie was not familiar with european stick shifts. Just as we were pulling up our long and rocky driveway, we hit a rock and punctured the oil tank. The next day, after the mechanic came to repair it, we were told we could not drive long distances, and should keep our speed to a minimum. We told them that we were okay not having a car.

2. We have helped Franca collect many varieties of grapes for laboratory testing. So far we've collected Arneis, Barolo, Dolcetto, Merlot, Syrah, and Barbera. We have learned that the largest crop of grapes they have is Arneis, but the Barollo is the most important in terms of their reputation and profitability. And the coolest thing I have learned is that there is no assisted watering of the vines!!! Every bit of water that the grapes take in is from rain. How cool is that??

3. We have learned that it is just fine for Italian boys to walk around the house in their "tighty whities" or boxer breifs. Literally, the boys in our house hang out in their undies. We thought it was just one guy at first, but no. Also, I had to take out some laundry so that I could put in a load. I hung all of the boy's things on the drying rack and I came across.... a man thong. It was purple, stretchy, and I will be forever scarred.

4. Looks can be deceiving. The man who's in charge of us is named Alessando. Alessandro Ceretto. He and Andrea invited us to a birthday party last saturday night. It was the wildest party I've ever been to. And Alessandro lead the whole thing! It was so cool to see such a serious business man cut loose and lead the party. There was a two hour cocktail hour with varoious cheeses and that meat that I'm so fond of. Oh and also stuffed squid. Bomb.com. Anyways, when we finally headed to dinner, there were two long tables. One was occupied by the "old" people, and the other by the young ones. For some reason we were seated at the old people table. Anyways, the old people got a loudspeaker, and began dancing and chanting old italian songs. After that, the young ones offered a rebuttal chant. People were standing on the table! People were kissing strangers! People were SHOUTING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS! It was a wild party, and we were there from 9pm until 3am. Lizzie and I then slept till noon.

I'm pretty sure that in addition to Henri, my true origins are from Italy. I'm way too loud and wild to be a German.

5. In most working situations in Italy, two people do the work while five people watch. We've been reminded of this expression about three times now, and are attempting to take on this new, slow paced work ethic.

Well, thats about it for now. Stay tuned, this will be a recurring column of all of our Italian learnings.

Bocci per tutti

For Boo Boo aka Lauren McEwen

Check it out – Blaupunkt!!!!!! They have blaupunkt radios in ITALY! Now your car is even cooler because it features a Blaupunkt. Don’t you feel special?

P.S. I Blaupunkt your mom last night.

This is for De Guillerm:

Today, after Liz and I had worked for ten hours and then decided to walk five miles for our dinner, we got into one of our favorite discussions: music. After declaring my love for The String Cheese Incident, Liz casually asked me

“So, how did Will get into Cream Cheese?”
Prettaaay, prettaaay, pretty good.

Non e Figa

First, a thought.

I’m starting to reconsider Henri’s true origins. We have always known Henri to be a French poodle. Also, many of you know about Henri’s pension for figs. Every fig season, Henri gains approximately five pounds, because he stuffs his little snout full of figs. He simply cannot contain himself. Figs are a natural laxative, so my mom has a hell of a time keeping after the little poop machine.



Honestly, why would a DOG have such an obsession with FIGS? Admittedly, Henri will eat pretty much anything that’s placed in front of him. However… the fig thing? It is an inert compulsion that no one has been able to understand… until now.

Alba is CHOCK FULL of fig trees. I’m talking figs the size of baseballs. Not only that, but there are the normal mission figs, AND white figs. I’m not kidding – I’ve honestly never seen so many fig trees in my life. SO what I’m thinking is, in a previous life, Henri was truly ITALIAN! I mean, maybe in his previous PREVIOUS life. Or maybe PREVIOUSLY he was Italian, but before that he lived in France. Whichever it is, I know that this obsession has some serious roots. European roots.

Now, a story
We have spent a fair amount of time in Franca’s car (she’s an enologist of 2 ½ months at Ceretto), spinning around roundabouts and hobbling over unpaved rocky roads. Somehow, it has become Liz and my Nirvana. The minute we get in that car, we are at peace. Personally, I have fallen asleep three times in a matter of six days. Two of which were in the same day. Gosh darn Jet Lag.

ANYWAY – I started noticing the fig tress from the get-go. It’s probably due to my inexplicable fascination with our dog Henri. The only way I can clarify how much I care for and baby this dog is that my “motherly” hormones have kicked in, and, without a husband OR a child, let alone a BOYFRIEND, I’ve adopted Henri as my “little dude”.

Once I had recognized this prehistoric looking tree I began racking my brain in hopes of recalling the name of the fig. Finally I gave up and asked Andrea what the fruit was called. Figo, he said.

The next day I was trying to impress Franca in the car by yelling out “FIGA!” every time we passed by a fig tree. After several of these loud proclamations, Franca finally broke down in hysterics. She tried to explain why she was laughing, but I couldn’t understand her. Finally she said “cuello e un FIGO. Una FIGA e…” and then she pointed to her lap. I had been yelling out the name of the female anatomy.

Way to go, Allie.

Conversations con Mimo

M= mimo
A= allie

m. “Ti piace il sandwich ha lo comprato ieri? (Did you like the sandwich that I bought you yesterday?)

a. So molto, era buffa, no? ( Yes, very much. It was beef, yes?)

m. No no. Era Donken.

a. Donken?

m. Si, Donken.

a. DonKEY?

m. ( After a 5 second pause) Danke. Danke Shane. Thank you. You are welcome.

Qui e Mimo!

Allow me to introduce you to Mimo. Mimo is the Cellar Master at Ceretto. Not only can Mimo speak hilariously broken English with us, he is also a terrific whistler. His favorites thus far are “La Cucaracha” and “The Barber of Seville”. I finally got up the courage to whistle along with Mimo, and he admitted that he was quite impressed. I whistled the main chorus of “La Cucaracha” and Mimo whistled the back up.
It was a very special moment.

We’ve yet to understand if Mimo loves or hates us. He has a tendency to joke around with us and ask us legitimate questions, only to do an immediate 180, and ask us why Americans are so stupid and why were are such silly little girls.

Here’s one example of Mimo’s feelings toward America. Mimo spent two months working in Santa Cruz, before he drove across the country with his “American Girlfriend” all the way to NYC. Mimo’s girlfriend made the unfortunate decision to throw her cigarette butt out of the car window, and out of nowhere a police car started flashing his lights behind them.

They were fined $300.

The reason Mimo was really upset is because he believes that his $300 went toward the funding of all the bombs that we, as Americans, drop. I tried to explain that he did something wrong, and that he should pay a fine. Mimos response was a 20 second stare down,

followed by him simply walking away.

Nonetheless, Mimo is a hilarious and slightly crazy person, uttering such English phrases as “Fuggettaboudid” and “Takeiteeezie”. We have a lot of fun spending time with him and hope that he feels the same way. :)

Marco!

I’m very excited to share with you all that I have finally arrived upon the perfect name for my first dog.. Marco. I know he will be a very handsome, charismatic, and flirtatious little guy.. Here’s the catch. He cannot be called MARRcoh. Everyone must pronounce his name in ITALIAN. Roll that R. Really get into it. MAHRcoh.

It really just rolls off the tongue, doesn’t it?

Maggie

Maggie is the winery dog at Ceretto (photo soon to follow). Maggie is 5 months old, and she was the runt of her litter. Maggie is very nervous and skitzo; but I’m determined to make her like me. I’ve even tried to say Maggie in my rendition of how an Italian would speak to her. MAH-gee!

Today we made some progress. She slinked over to me, veeeerry interested in smelling everything along the way. She walked up to my face and gave me one tiny puppy kiss right in the middle of my smacker. She then promptly ran away. She’s a real flirt, that Mah-gee. Or shall I say Bay-be, which is Alessandro’s nickname for the pup.