Many-Layered Toledo

A 25 minute train takes us to Toledo on Day 113 of our EU Austerity Drinking Tour.  The ancient city lies South of Madrid, and although not known for wine, should get us drunk on culture.

We walk from the oddly Moroccan-looking train station, along the river, to the citadel’s bridge.

Toledo Tracy Aaron

Gorgeous day,

Western walls crowned with Christian churches and Renaissance pavillons make Toledo look like any old, mind-blowingly impressive, European citadel.  But then we cross the bridge.

Islamic arches and ornaments interweave with the stone and brickwork.

Western?

Western?

Imagine your Ford truck with a Chinese dragon statue where the chair should be.

Three centuries of Islamic rule paint Toledo.  We climb then weave through city square, alleys, and paths.  Toledo’s massive yet intricate Cathedral demands a tour.

It's intimidating because you can never stand back from it.

It’s intimidating because you can never stand back from it.

With headphones on, this looks like any other magnificent, fabulous gem of the High Gothic.  When Christians took over, they replaced the central mosque with it.  But look closely and the patterns and traditions of Toledo’s Muslim-trained artisans persists.

Jesus?

Jesus?

The Bishop’s chambers and chapter house look like hooka bars.

Eye-watering

Eye-watering

However, amidst Muslim motifs layer in clearly Christian art.  We even find some obscure Noah sculpture with “symbolic” grape vines sprouting from his…well..neck:

What the???

What the???

We probably need to brush up on our medieval symbolism.

The whole place shimmers white with limestone curves. We spend our whole time looking up (probably their intention).

Like some sort of sea creature.

Like some sort of sea creature.

After a bedazzling collection of El Grecos and minor works by Italian masters. We re-enter the sunshine.

Even after Christianity purged Toledo of Islamic rule, Mosques continued to coexist.  We find one survivor built directly atop the slabs of an old Roman road.

Brick brilliance!

Brick brilliance!

We also pop into a Jewish temple, a Roman bath, and a few other churches.  From the city’s edge we view the Roman Amphitheater.  By days end we get tired and a bit lost in this brick labyrinth.

Brick-tastic!

Brick-tastic!

One string running through Toledo is its love of detail and color.  Even more recent glazed tiles are packed with void-fearing detail.

Double-headed eagle. Russia?

Double-headed eagle. Russia?

We enjoy this drinking hiatus.  Toledo’s marzipan is delightful.  We skip buying their little boxes and fine knives.  We spend the entire day milling about its narrow streets.

Toledo’s strange balancing act of cultures seems natural.  It almost makes modern cultural clashes seem unnecessary.  However, these old, calm bricks hide centuries of lost bloodshed.

We fall asleep on our train back to modern Madrid.  Check in next Monday for our last day in Madrid (and maybe a bottle or two).

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Thirsty Thursday: Mother’s Day Rosé Cliché

Mother’s Day is at bay.  Now you could get creative and buy her Single Malt Whiskey (could work).  But honestly, Spring is also here (well, mostly).  Flowers bloom.  These warm-ish, sunny-ish days call from something fresh, fruity, and friendly.  A bellowing cabernet might distract from those lovely conversations about why you haven’t had kids yet.

So embrace that marketed cliché: buy rosé for Mother’s Day!

But since you might drink it as well, why not stretch her and your boundaries with a region too often lost in the pink sea of white zin and Provence: Bardolino Chiaretto

Bardolino Chiarretto Map

Bardolino Chiaretto: the red blotch with the lake view.

Tucked around lake Garda’s shimmering banks, deep into Italy’s north (actually just south of last Thirsty Thursday’s Nebbiolo) sits Bardolino Chiaretto DOC.  The appellation only makes rosé.  Once it was a convenient by-product bled out to concentrate their reds.  But today Rondinella, Mollinara, and Corvina grapes (typical of Valpolicella, Amarone, and Bardolino) are grown separately.

Why? Acidity. Growers harvest Rondi and the Corvinas weeks before their reds in mid-September.  Alcohols also end up lower because of less sugar.  That makes for a brighter, tighter, and lighter wine.  You will want something refreshing and easy, when she asks when you got that tattoo.

Tonight’s Thirsty Thursday offering to mothers the world over is Santi’s “Infinito”, Rosé, Bardolino Chiaretto, Italy 2013:

Hi gorgeous!

Hi gorgeous!

Appearance: It’s pretty as all get out: a bright, fiery, clear rose quartz.

Aromas: Mild aromas of light kiwi, fresh cream, and strawberry ice.

Palate: Although dry with crystaline, mouthseeking acidity, and low 11.5% alcohol, the body does not dissappear.

Flavors: A nice round lump of white melon fruit drops on your tongue’s doorstop. Then flint, salt, strawberry, and lemon juice shred it apart like mail left to your neighbor’s dogs.

english_bulldog

Ok, that metaphor went astray. But either way, Santi’s rosé enters pleasant and unsuspected then perks up to nab your attention.  There isn’t much meat to it.  But that’s its goal: to be bright and snappy and less than $15.

Drink it now, young, with maternal company, and/or food company like a mozzarella, tomato, arugula salad with a little parmesan, sashimi, or those fantastic cold finger sandwiches at high tea.  Happy Mother’s Day

 

 

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Mellowing Madrid: EU Austerity Drinking Tour Day 111

This Monday’s installment of our EU Austerity Drinking Tour finds Tracy and I 111 days deep into Europe.

Bedazzling Barcelona broke us.  Constant sight-seeing, drinking, and planning had turned into a chore.  Shoes, ipods, clothes, health, sanity were all tattered.

If our trip had a mascot...

Icon of our trip: empty wine bottle and broken shoes.

With winter coming even to Spain, and without a car, we decided on an end date and streamlined our visits to major cities.  Although I love Port,  it became too difficult to reach cheaply.

But we had to visit Madrid.

EUmapNewYorkMadridDay111Our bus cruises through Barcelona’s industrial outskirts.  Soon we enter Penedès: home to Spain’s sparkling wine: Cava.  The nearby Mediterranean keeps this land green.

Sleepy rolling vines.

Happy vines.

Village-sized wine facilities like Freixenet break the lazy roll of vines and shrub-land.  It looks so much like central coast California, we feel our first pangs of home-sickness.  But the jagged Serra del Garraf mountains remind us we are far from Cali.

Insane mountains.

Serra Del Garraf

I can hardly believe Cava, Spain’s austere, citric bubbly, comes from such a warm, easy place.  They must pick very early.  The region’s ripe, oak-aged reds make more sense.

Guess who the main employer is...

Guess who the main employer is…

Further on the land flattens, dries a ruddy brown, and gets really boring.  Mars must look like this.

AridInlandSpain

Surreal.

We climb up a mountain range for an eternity.  Our ears pop a thousand times.  We crest the cloud line and only see grey.  Then we descend into a new landscape:

Those windmills are massive.

Those windmills are massive.

It takes a lifetime to traverse sprawling Madrid.  We switch to the Metro, loop town, and huff it to our home stay.

An odd, converted shed on a deck becomes our new home.  Our hosts seem young and affable.  They feel the recession only slightly.  Since we must cross their deck to use their restroom or kitchen, we eat out more. Awkward!

We spend the next day exploring hall after hall of the Prado Museum, only stopping to eat pizza.  The guards get fed up and herd us out.

PradoMuseumThere’s nothing to report drinks-wise.  Our livers need a break.  So tea suffices.

 

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Thirsty Thursday: Nebbiolo, Nino Negri, Quadrio, Valtellina Superiore DOCG, Italy 2010

Think Nebbiolo and hopefully your heart flies to Barbaresco or Barolo: famed homes devoted to the grape.  Their wines range from light yet tannic, austere yet floral, to rich, dark, and chewy.  They are usually complex, age-worthy, and deservedly expensive.

But unknown to a world before DNA, Nebbiolo spread its fingers up valleys, reaching into the Italian Alps.  It crept into land-locked Lombardy, rooting in the canyon valley of Valtellina.

valtellina

Steep…that yellow line on top is Switzerland.

Today’s winery, Nino Negri, is a 20 minute drive from Switzerland.  Their vineyards span a 25 mile strip of Alpine terraces reaching 2,400-3,000 feet above sea level.  It is so steep that once hand-harvest finishes, a helicopter has to lift grape crates to the winery.

Vertigo inducing.

Vertigo inducing.

Founded in 1897, Nino Negri has thrived since 1971 under Casimiro Maul.  I met his daughter Sara yesterday.  She loves defending his work and wines.

So let’s start with their entry model:

Nino Negri’s “Quadrio” (named after the 15th century castle it ages in).  This 2010 is 90% Nebbiolo, softened by 10% Merlot.  18 months in massive 80 hl Slavonian oak vats age it to readiness.  But how does it fill the glass?

Nino Negri Quadrio Nebbiolo Valtellina

Nice day for a Nebbiolo.

Appearance: The wine looks a medium intense, clear, garnet color. It is dusky, rusty, but pretty.

Aromas: Moderately intense aromas of dried violets, black tea leaf, brown licorice, and wood hide a core of black bramble fruits, plum, and orange peel.

Palate: A dry, tannic, acidic grip holds the warm, medium body in check.  When compared to most Nebbiolo, this may feel pillowy thanks to the dash of Merlot.  But that’s the point.  Still the taught, chunky texture is undeniably Nebbiolo.

Brown LicoriceFlavors: A rush of spices, licorice, wild berries, dried fruit and florals wash forward, reach a decent height of pleasure, and then fade me into a clean barn of well sanded wood.  Its warm light is passing.  Tidy animals crunch slowly on dry gold hay.

Conclusions: Nino Negri’s Quadrio won’t please Nebbiolo purists.  But its goal is get us on board.  It does so quite well.  This is very good wine (4 of 5) for under $20.  It manages that tough balance of being drinkable alone, yet remaining structured and interesting.  Have it with appetizers and lighter fare, for heady sauces or spices will overwhelm it. Well done.

 

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Barcelona Brakes and Beer: EU Austerity Drinking Tour La Cervesera Artesana

106 days in, and our EU Austerity Drinking Tour has taken its toll.  Barcelona gleams sunny and beautiful but seems cursed.

I dropped my iPod: home to all my wine notes, photos, and videos.  Also, superglue has stopped holding my fancy Vibram shoes together.  Worse, Spain’s economy cracks around us.  Pickpockets swarm our outings.  Financial tensions rile the (otherwise lovely) international couple that hosts us.  But worst of all, Tracy’s stomach decides to stop working.

She becomes bedridden.  All she can eat are prunes, water, and…well…Cava.   So like any good husband, I leave her.

Gaudi

Gaudi-licious!

I tour Barcelona, draw Gaudi buildings, get new shoes, and hand my iPod over to a local geek to fix it.

By nightfall, my wife musters energy to catch a quartet in the Art Nouveau gem, Paulau Musica Catalana:

Stained glass inverted dome.

Stained glass inverted dome.

We make the next few days “easy” on her with trips to Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia, which looks like an insane, beige, corral reef outside:

Gaudi Sagrada Familia

Somehow it is coming together…

But inside, it is a future forest of white stone:

Sagrada Familia Interior

Makes Star Trek look ancient.

After adjusting to Gaudi’s frantic geometry lesson, we take an elevator up its tower.

Barcelona Below

Trepidatious.

Construction clanks and rattles.  Cranes whir above us.  All of it does not make standing still easy.  So we race back down through a maze of torquing modernism:

Smiling in fear.

Smiling in fear.

A steep spiral staircase sends us underground to a vaulted church dedicated to Gaudi’s never-ending project.

Tracy Model Sagrada Familia

BEST. TENT. EVER.

Endless models and fragments divulge his evolving designs, all of which only modern technology could finally realize.

The next day sends us hiking to another Gaudi masterpiece: Guell Park.

Grotto.

Grotto.

Instead of conquering the divine, Gaudi attempts to mesh and meld with nature. At times it feels forced and Disneylike, but it works.

Tourists, couples, trinket sellers, and parrots all lounge about the park’s meandering paths.

BarcaParrots

Adorable!

Gaudi lived here for nearly twenty years before moving into Sagrada Familia.  His home brims with organic curves, yet feels far more cozy and modest than his urban showcase apartments:

Gaudi House

Who needs television?

We exit the park backwards: passing through his hyperbolic Greek temple:

Park Guel Aaron

Footfalls sound amazing here.

Once past the mosaic steps and iconic rainbow gecko, we tumble back into town.  We pass this, not-Gaudi, but gorgeous apartment:

What? There were other architects in Barcelona????

What? There were other architects in Barcelona????

Nearby we find La Cervesera Artesana: yes, a brewery, in Spain.  Actually, this was Barcelona’s first microbrewery.  Since 1996 Cervesera Artesana has forged a path of deliciousness.

Adorable

Adorable

Small, wooden tanks fill a back room.  The interior feels hip.  The beers taste modern and international.  From Stouts, to smoked beers, to IPAs (Iberian Pale Ale), the beers are bold, flavorful, yet pretty well balanced and rounded.  Sadly my iPod is still under surgery so no notes.

110 days into our trip and we finally buy a flight back.  We had budgeted for a ten month (or maybe more) drinking adventure.  But visiting vineyards and museums every day has worn us and the little we carry.  Cultural fatigue has set in.  We don’t feel homesick, just exhausted.

So we have three months to go, and have only dipped our feet in Spain.  The Languedoc, Rhone, Burgundy, Germany, Austria, Czech Republic, Holland, Belgium, Flanders, and Champagne shall all be conquered.  Like Napoleon or Hitler (but tipsier), we shall crash as much of Europe until our glasses empty.

See you next Monday.

 

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