Amarone della Valpolicella


what:

DOCG
Veneto, Italy
made from partially dried grapes
primarily Corvina, but also Rondinella and Molinara

where:
Ristorante Antico Martini
Campo Teatro Fenice, 2007
Venice


when:
late winter

 

character:

Say you come across a picturesque little antique shop, on some hidden little by-street in Venice, no bigger than a living room but filled with the most beguiling array of objects—tiny gilt frames, ornate lamps with beaded silk shades, an elaborate beaux arts lady’s hand mirror—each showing the refined taste and discerning eye of an expert aesthete. You are no doubt expecting the tiny Italian gran in her black shawl to appear at any moment. You find, instead, an enormous man with broad shoulders, a full beard, wearing a rough tweed suit and smelling strongly of a thick woodsy cologne (and not a little of it, either). Meet Signore Amarone, the proprietor. On the one hand he seems to barely fit in his own shop, always on the verge of sending this or that priceless object shattering to the floor; yet he handles each piece with a delicacy—oddly suggestive of sweetness without actually possessing a sweet demeanor—that reveals an unaccountable artistic sensitivity. He is machismo, sotto voce, as much a curiosity as the objects around him.


tastes like:


Sitting by a small warming fireplace on a gray and rainy late-winter afternoon.


pairs nicely with:


T
he eight windows depicting the Miracles of St. Thomas in Canterbury Cathedral, Kent; the sleeper car on an overnight train, a sturdy worsted wool suit, sleeping in said worsted wool suit on said overnight train, and any European city in which ‘Ruins’ are listed as an attraction; the rose window at Lausanne Cathedral, all the windows of Chartres Cathedral, and the entire Kölner Dom; coming home from a tour of European ruins, and sitting with one’s father on a gray and rainy late-winter afternoon, offering poor explanations regarding the creation of said (non-European) ruins; and a hunk of Parmigiano-Reggiano, preferably from the a wheel aged in the cellar of an Italian gran who has carefully treated it with homemade olive oil for many many months.