An archive of notes from 2015—2019
Sure it’s been a little while since I’ve served up a Daily Pour. But I promised I wouldn’t send you any old wine and I meant it. It’s funny but I just can’t fake this sort of thing. And It’s better that way, because when I feel it it hits me hard.
I took one sip of this golden treat and its lime and lemon-melon-y curves took me on an easy ride, winding me gently downhill to take in whiffs of yellow flowers and summer fruits. It washed over me like an old friend.
I packed a bottle of this Soave (type of white vino but also Italian medieval village; I packed the former) in my basket bike (a 1984 Stumpjumper, the bike). We pedaled off in tandem to the new taco joint across the river (LA River, not a fancy one in Verona quite yet, but stay tuned…).
This is a white wine with smooth lines: gradual dips and turns that both allow you the opportunity to sprint your stuff and skid out like a showboat and also to coast effortlessly, the dragging buzz of the freewheel your sweet soundtrack – on cassette, if you will (#bikereference).
Like crickets in the night, that soulful, summer bike song squeezes me right in the heart muscle every time. I love it.
Wine in tow, once we got to the taco spot, parked our (gorgeous) bikes, waited for a free table (hot new joint) and sat down, the juice wasn’t exactly icy; when we poured ourselves the end of the bottle, it was room temp.
*This is actually ironic because the al pastor and potato tacos arrived piping not-hot-at-all; pretty cold, in fact. But being a new restaurant, we forgave, and they were so damn good anyway!
Then with the wine!? Ay dios mio.
Cold tacos, room temp Italian white, all things perfect in the universe. Delicious is an understatement: my mouth is watering as I write this thinking about the pineapple and pork tucked inside the best flour tortilla I’ve had in ever, washed down with its unpredictably perfect match: this Italian gem of a white wine that proved its ability to shake maracas and socialize with guacamole no problemo!
This wine is impossibly satisfying, and I discovered it totally unexpectedly, like the best meals, and things in life, really, seem determined to be.
WINE: Coffele Soave Classico, Veneto, Italy
GRAPE: Biodynamically-grown Garganega, from old vines, harvested by hand.
HOMETOWN: Soave, Veneto. Gladiator battles and medieval executions aside, Verona is an ancient city of love; Soave is also ancient itself – the volcanic region has grown grapes on its hills since Roman times.
TASTES LIKE: Fruit-filled with lime, white peach, and honeydew melon but clean and focused; lilac and yellow flowers like marigolds, too. Tastes like the smile of someone you’ve known for ages that you haven’t seen in a little too long, like whole a day. Where have you been!
GOES DOWN EASY WITH: Richer seafoods hold up well, and I’ve R&D’d the taco thing for you and it’s a flying-colors pass; anything with an Italian accent is just pure extra credit – gnocchi, pesto, scallops, risotto, polenta, pizza with anchovies, game on.
WEIRD FACT: Soave’s a city so famous for amore that people send love letters addressed simply “To Juliet, Verona, Italy.” Oddly, there’s a team of volunteers who’ve assembled to reply to these lovesick folk… if only they were sending them this bottle of this Soave instead!