I was itching to open a bottle of the Novello. The first time we received Novello from Italy it must have been 1983. I filled up a truck with the whole lot of it and proceeded to drive around town, vowing not to stop until I had sold all of it. We were in Reagan’s era, interest rates were 16% and there were a lot more poor people than now. But I drove around to all the sorry little Italian spots and wrote out invoices on the spot. Finally I had 10 cases left and no one was buying. I rolled into a French Wine Bar, La Cave and asked Francois if he was interested. He must have taken pity on me. Or maybe he felt just a little pang of guilt for giving me so much grief over the container of 1978 Bordeaux that he pestered me over. I never got a penny of commission and him; well let’s say he did just fine. Anyway. The Frenchman bought more of the Italian Novello than any of the Italian places. C'est la vie.
Yesterday we popped a bottle or two and walked around the place hawking like we were selling the cure-all. Not too bad, very Merlot-esque, very fruity, a label my mother would love. What’s not to like?
Along the way I found some of the new Limoncello from Danny De Vito. By now most folks have heard about the romp De Vito and George Clooney had on The View, where they claimed they stayed up all night and drank Limoncello in preparation for their visit to the program. As it turned out, it might have been a set u p. Some enterprising merchant decided to capitalize on the notoriety and voila, Danny De Vito Limoncello was born.
One complaint. The gift pack has this kitschy ceramic decanter to go along with the product. Now anyone who has gone to the Amalfi coast knows there is a preponderance of mighty fine cermaiche. Vietri is one of the towns along the way. They even have a building for the ceramic industry, designed by none other than the famous Paolo Soleri. So it would only seem likely that some marketing genius would include the decanter as part of the product pull. Unfortunately the “ceramic” decanter is straight out of some factory in China. Mannaggia.
What else? Dr. J has been documenting last week's raiding of the wine closet. More to come? We took him and Ms. B to the Grassy knoll in commemoration of the 45th anniversary of the dreadful day in Dallas on November 22, 1963.
As if we haven’t taken every solemn and tragic event and turned it inside out a group pulls up dressed in masks like JFK, Jackie and the Secret Service detail, God knows what their deal was. Straight out of a Borges dream sequence, that’s my take. Bizarre. The young ones were Non Plussed. But hey, they’re still in the fog of love. Stay in the fog, kids. As long as you can.
Before then. what? Back from Austin last week I stopped in Taylor Texas to try the BBQ at the Taylor Café. Not bad, but Louie Mueller will be my next stop in Taylor. Something about a place making BBQ and if the tea tastes like it came out of a mix, makes the whole thing suspect. Like someone might be cutting corners. Anyway, I didn’t care much for the counter talk, very throwback to the era before the one we are stepping into.
I’m not much for derisive jokes about what the new President and the new First Lady are going to do with the Rose Garden, too g.d. cynical for me. I’m a believer. I want the world to be good.
Back in Dallas we took the young ones to the Twisted Root. Dr. J might mommy blog the meal, so I don’t want to take away from that post. But the sign in the men’s bathroom was my takeaway, so I be sharing it with you.
And that leaves me with my last crop in the garden and that would be the Pequins that we harvested over the weekend. The little peppers are hotter than a two-peckered dog in a city pound, as we say in Tejas. And that is my story.
Heading to California soon, to spend some time with my 94 year old mom. We are going to Paso Robles and Palm Desert. I’m also having dinner with my film-studio bud. Forget the book deal; let’s cut straight to the movie rights, eh?
And with my mom in tow, I’m sure I’ll be mustering up the Mother of all mommy blog posts in Old California. Stay tuned.